sensory overload

(literate oc krp) – A sense is a physiological capacity of organisms that provides data for perception.

[sensorv-blog]

( apologies for disappearing: i had troubles with getting my laptop to work, but that’s fixed now and i’ll be slowly making up for all the owed replies. have a lovely day, everyone! )

[youthsads-blog]

                                                selective. au. slice of life. found family.                                                                    bts. ot7 rp.                                                                     premise.

[sensorv-blog]

jongdangel:

“I’m not a kid,” comes the instant huff of a rebuttal, almost a reflex at this point. Seven knew he was young, but his reverberating baritone and stoic features most people associated him with led them to believe otherwise, and who was he to derail their train of thought? It had aided him in getting away with a good number of things since he’d come to Seoul and even when he was younger, but even then, no one cared what he’d gotten into as it was and he was just fine with that knowledge. He’d learned to take things in stride, learned to remain passive and indifferent. 

But everything was different with Kiyong though, and he found himself more often than not turning into a person he himself was unfamiliar with: one who smiled, one who laughed, one who had a genuinely good time with another human being, one who felt understood. 

And yet even then, he scared himself. 

He ignores his own musings in favour of listening to the other. It’s not something he’d personally considered, but it makes sense in the flow of things. He can’t help the snickers that fall from his lips at the thought of the elder tormenting his mother with overtly obscene noises, and it prompts him to think back on his own childhood, about what he’d wanted more than anything. “When I was an actual kid,” he pauses, giving the other a look before continuing with the beginnings of a grin, “around ten or eleven, I realized that no matter how many tantrums I threw or times I cried, my parents weren’t coming back, so I started fucking around with a lot of shit just to keep myself entertained. Played pranks on the housekeeper, experimented with electricity, found ways to destroy a lot of shit. I really liked sneaking around at night at the lake that was beside the house and I’d catch tadpoles and whatever else I could find to see if pain was the same across the line if you catch my drift. Of course I didn’t figure anything out,” he breaks with a snort, “but it kept my mind occupied and for a while I wanted to be a biologist. But that shit flew out of my mind the moment I came here and got into computers and figured out how much I liked breaking them down and building them back up about four years ago, and I guess that’s where I am now. I don’t know where to go from here, and I guess I never really cared enough to find out.” 

“Sure you’re not,” the older male bites back nearly instantly but it’s all in good humor rather than mocking, finding everything surrounding their age gap rather amusing. Kiyong had never thought that one of his favorite people in his life would become someone so much younger than him, and he often wondered if that meant that Kiyong himself was immature or, quite the opposite, Seven was way more mature than he should be for his age. Or perhaps age just really didn’t matter when it came to human relationships after all, and it wasn’t just an empty cliche repeated over the ages for nothing else but a sentimental value.

“And see, this just proves my point--you still didn’t change much from when you were the... actual kid,” he makes little hand gestures and changes the tone of his voice, leaving no doubts as to whether he made fun of the younger ot not. “The only difference is you don’t torture the poor tadpoles. They were probably in more pain than you could ever be,” there’s a chuckle that left his mouth at that, right in the moment when his hands started patting around his pockets to eventually pull out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The grey smoke is soon flowing freely up in the air over their heads, the package right there for the other to use if he felt like it; Kiyong liked to think they were way past the polite offers and even more polite thankyous.

“Wonder if we’d still meet if we went with these plans--you a biologist, me a racer. I’d probably be dead by now, too interested in experiencing a gruesome crash. And you? I bet you’d come up with some fucked up shit, some experiments on living subjects, or some biological weapons... Accidentally kill us all. Or not so accidentally. Bet that’d be fun.”

[goodbye--gone-blog]

if you ever wanna ship with me just come to my ask and be like “listen dick face we bout to fuck shit up with a ship ok.”

[sensorv-blog]

fluorvte:

「 ♡ 」 … *┊                               A SOFT POUT APPEARED on the small lips of the young man while he was looking at the other who commented on where the damp hair was coming from. Nature. It was so pretty and yet a nuisance. Was it so hard not to make his hair damp or produce all the dirt? This was really annoying. But Yongjin seemed to love nature for whatever reasons. Maybe he should think about this reason for a little bit longer in the future, but today Jaehyun wanted to savor the sweet time he was able to share with Yongjin and Kyu at the same time. You could say that those two have a special place in Jaehyun’s heart while the whole other world was just unimportant.

Being in his own world of thoughts and memories, Jaehyun has quickly forgotten about the camera and Yongjin’s intentions of taking good pictures of him. It was a trait of the raven-haired young man that he was quickly able to forget or just remove unimportant details from his thoughts. It was a trait that many people would consider as weird but only because they had no clue how nice it could feel to let go of everything.

Slowly, Jaehyun was turning his head to the side to take a glimpse off Yongjin. Why was he not saying that he wouldn’t forget about Jaehyun? Was this really so hard to tell? “So, now that you have taken pictures of me, you won’t forget about me at all?” Or was his interpretation wrong now? A soft frown appeared on his forehead, the lips pressing to a thin line. He didn’t want to turn Yongjin into a doll just to keep him by his side, but when the other wouldn’t give him any other chance, then Jaehyun would have to do this.

“Let’s take a picture together.” The dark eyes of the young man suddenly started to sparkle. “Then we won’t lose each other as well when we have pictures together. Come on. I want to take pictures with you!”

Yongjin’s arms fell in a slow, controlled manner, lowering the camera held tightly in his hands and revealing the face that had found its safe hideout behind the sizeable equipment. Looking at Jaehyun with his own, bare eyes rather than the camera’s lens made him feel so much more real (even if, admittedly, still somewhat ethereal looking between all the dreamy, shadowy nature around), that for a second all Yongjin could do was stare and wonder just how used he has become to this. To them. How their odd friendship, based mostly on watching and following each other around in ways that to most woud’ve been just creepy, evolved to a piece of Yongjin’s life that he wouldn’t know what to do without. How it took such a short time for it to happen.

“Pictures aren’t really changing that. Whether I took them or not, I still wouldn’t forget.” He explained, hand itching more than ever to just reach out, to run fingers through the other’s dark hair (damp hair, he thinks with amusement and affection, lying now flat and a little sad on top of his head), to ruffle them playfully. He only caught himself from doing so in the last moment, hands squeezing the camera tighter insetead – the fear of pain surrounding the touch was way too strong, nauseating him even before he experienced it, the idea of physically recoiling away from Jaehyun too hurtful both for himself and for Jaehyun.

It was such an ugly curse, eating away at Yongjin’s heart and mind every day, bit by bit, making him miserable in times like these. He heard so many stories about the comfort that the simplest touch of people dear to your heart can bring you – and yet he never ever could fully experience it.

He’s torn somewhere between sadness and happiness when Jaehyun’s change of mood strikes yet again. “I’m not sure if we can do it with this camera…” He said with a dose of uncertainty, pulling it off his neck and turning around; even without trying Yongjin knew it’d be uncomfortable and awkward and the result will be far from a good photo – and yet he knew he wanted to do it anyway, not only because he’d go through with any of Jaehyun’s requests (he’s just a sucker for him like that, what can you do), but also because he wanted that photo too. It was such a normal, regular thing to do – and god knows they both could use a little normalcy.

Yongjin is careful when he gets close to Jaehyun, when his clothed shoulder bumps and rubs against Jaehyun’s, when he pulls the other by the fabric of his jacket to guide him into a good position, faces turned towards the light and close enough to fit–more or less–in the photo’s frame. “It’ll have to be a close-up, there’s no time releaser in this camera. Do we wanna look handsome or goofy? Don’t dare to play me here–if I’m the only bad looking one in the photo I’m gonna tear it without even showing it to you.”

[sensorv-blog]

jvngtaekwvn:

Taekwoon wasn’t trying to be mean, he wasn’t a bad person, or so he wanted to believe, but he saw no point in indulging the male’s anger, in his head, Taekwoon was doing him a favor. Perhaps Yongjin couldn’t see it that way thanks to the half amused half mocking expression that had latched onto his face. “You’re welcome.” He even had the audacity of remarking the male’s sarcasm, and he merely watched him stray away, with his head still comfortably in his palm, he was not going to beg him to stay, in the way the male would have probably liked him to do so.

“Don’t you feel better now, thought?” He added in his usual calm tone, although there was now an expectant look on his face, if anything, the male now seemed way less stressed than before he began to rant. “It was fun to see you lash out like that, yes. Is always fun to make you mad.” The provoking grin made it’s return to Taekwoon’s face, he had no problem being honest about that, “But i dare you to tell me that all the bad steam isn’t gone now,” he returned to the previous point of his conversation, finally sitting up straight on his chair. “what’s the point on continuing being mad? Let it go and move on, focus on enjoying better things.”

This is ridiculous, Yongjin thought to himself, listening to the other’s words with slight disbelief. Was he really believing that he was in the right there, acting like a major douche under the pretense of being helpful?

“No, I don’t feel better,” He said as honestly as he could, face contorted in grimace that was as far from happy, relieved or relaxed as possible. His voice was cut around the syllables with the sharpest of knives, words final and unrelenting. “Now I just feel twice as angry and sad, knowing that this is just fun to you.” Because really, hasn’t he been going through enough of mockery as it was already? Silly half-demon, not fully belonging anywhere, choosing the wrong priorities, all these things -- and now this too, another person he decided to, for some illogical reason, trust, turning his existence into personal entertainment. Demons were mocking him for being a mere imitation, but Yongjin personally thought he was more damned and cursed than any of the actual lilin creatures.

“And I have absolutely no fucking clue what better things you want me to focus on. I’m not even sure if I want to know, because your priorities--maybe they’re just too far away from mine for us to continue, after all.”

[sensorv-blog]

mvxnn:

a starter for @sensorv ( Hanbin )  ✧

                                      ❛ Are you going to spoil my taste buds today ? ❜

“Why are you asking as if you have any doubts about it? Have I ever disappointed you when it comes to food?” He glanced at the younger male over his shoulder, the look playful and borderline scolding, as he placed a big shopping bag on a kitchen counter. Some vegetables and wrapped meat werenearly falling out of it with how full it was, and Hanbin struggled to keep it all in check and not let anything drop to the floor. “You hurt me so, Isao. You hurt me deeply. Do I have to prove myself to you again?” He asked with a teasing whine to his voice, acting as overly dramatic as it was only possible.

[sensorv-blog]

— open starter.

         muse: yongjin (about)          open to: f/m, human          connection: potential love interest / victim / friend / hookup          plot overview: attracted to your muse’s energy, yongjin wants to have a taste; it gets a little out of hand though, which leads to side-effects being experieced by both of them and a potentially life-threatening situation (feel free to IM me for more details or plotting)

Their lips are so soft. So so so soft, and that’s all he was able to think of for an embarrassingly long time. If any other, actual demon saw him right now, they’d laugh at him, mock and ridicule, because it was the energy they were supposed to be after, a singular goal in every similar situation, not all the other nuances that came with it -- not the lips’ softness, not the sweet scent, not the overwhelming warmth.

But none of the actual demons had to deal with the pain that Yongjin experienced in that moment, either, so said actual demons can go fuck themselves, in Yongjin’s opinion. For him, every press of lips, every swipe of tongue, every finger grabbing onto exposed flesh, alongside the gently vibrating, addicting and warming pleasure, brought also intense bouts of pain -- real, physical pain, like dozens upon dozens of small, sharp blades pressing into his body, dragging along its surface, again and again. Pain and pleasure, for him, had long since became one, and the more of the pain he felt, the more of the energy he wanted to take to soothe it, which inevitably pulled him into a dead end.

At some point, it became impossible to stop.

He can feel them become weak underneath his hands, the support of the wall behind their back not enough to keep them up -- and yet still eagerly holding onto him, too blinded by the pleasure and pheromones that Yongjin can’t quite control. He can feel himself become weak -- but in much different way, where he feels as energized as ever, yet too physically strained, courtesy of all the pain, to use it to pull back, to break the temporary bond, to bring his sanity back to the surface.

“You need to go.” He says, voice rough and pained and so quiet, right against their neck, barely holding himself back from biting into the pulse point, from drawing more of the energy together with the fresh, warm blood. It was vague, too vague for someone who didn’t understand what was actually happening, for someone under such strong influence of things beyond the grasp of a mere human -- (why would I go if it feels so good? why would I leave if you want me?) -- but it was all Yongjin could offer, everything he could do before his hands slip under the soft fabric of their clothes, palms pressing against the hot skin, hitting him with pain just as intense as its warmth and cutting off another thread of his sanity.

[sensorv-blog]

fluorvte:

「 ♡ 」 … *┊                               SOMETIMES JAEHYUN WAS TRYING to understand the other and his motivations. Sometimes, he was really eager to learn something, but then there were times where Jaehyun was just eager for attention and grumpy when he wasn’t getting what he wanted. Kyu already knew his little habits and mood swings, but Yongjin was accepting him just in the same way. This was the main reason why Jaehyun would leave his doll at home when he wouldn’t be fond of Yongjin. The other man wouldn’t leave him behind, right? No, he couldn’t leave Jaehyun behind, because Jaehyun would always find him again and turn him into a doll as well. No one was getting away from him and if they wouldn’t want to stay on their own, Jaehyun would show them by force why it was better for them to stay.

After putting Kyu on a branch, the raven-haired young man turned around towards the camera again with a bright smile. There was so much he could do and wanted to do, how should he choose? “Okay! Get it!” For a moment, Jaehyun looked around and ran a hand through his damp hair. “My hair is damp, why is it so wet around!?!”

Deep in his own thoughts, Jaehyun stepped away from the tree and finally couched down in front of a bush. He tilted his head to the side, then reached his left hand out and poked one of the leaves with his index finger to watch the drops of dew falling down on the ground. He was easily fascinated by little things and reminded of things he has done with Kyu during similar occasions. It has been dewy like this when Jaehyun turned Kyu from a human into a doll when they decided to spend their life together.

“Do I have to understand what you are doing?” he asked back without any further hesitation while looking back at the other. His small eyes widened a tiny bit, then a grin stretched on his lips again. “I want to spend time with you and watch you. Can’t risk that you forget about me and you’ll probably forget about me over your photography trips.”

“You’re the one who chose to stand under the tree... Of course your hair is damp, doofus.” Yongjin’s voice was hushed and the laugh accompanying it muffled, because as much as the situation made him want to make fun of the other, it was still done with a whole lot of affection. Even when overwhelmed by the need to laugh or coo over Jaehyun’s antics, he still didn’t miss the small windows of time to take his shots though; there were a few clicks of the shutter as the dark haired male looked up, as he dragged his hand through his hair, looking nearly modelesque in these simple actions that weren’t even actual poses. Yongjin was sure that at least half of the shots will turn out smudged -- but he didn’t care because he knew his mind will always link the blurry images back to the vivid memories of these moments.

When Jaehyun moved, Yongjin moved too, stepping a little closer to him, almost as if he was gravitating towards Jaehyun’s presence. He was careful in his observations and even more careful in capturing them: the quirky tilt of his head, the curious and wistful expression of Jaehyun’s profile, the delicate way he meddled with the nature he had claimed to have no interest in. Yongjin was close, so close that just a single sway of his body and he’d have knocked the lens of his camera into Jaehyun, when the latter picked on the bush’s leaves, making a cascade of dew drops fall down. It was close enough that Yongjin grasped the contrast of the droplets and of the tiniest details of Jaehyun’s face -- of his lashes, singular hair falling down his face, the reflection of the world in his eyes -- and when the drops cascaded down right in front of him, the dew was just milimetres away from kissing Jaehyun’s lips.

Yongjin had taken many beautiful photos in his life, but this one might just become his favorite.

“Forget about you?” He asked suddenly, brows furrowing behind the camera and he almost -- almost -- forgot to snap a photo of this new expression that was somewhere between surprised and smug, widened eyes not quite matching the curled lip. Here and now, the idea that Yongjin might’ve been the one to lose interest in Jaehyun felt... ridiculous. Yongjin was in no position to lose interest in anyone who expressed some in him, some that isn’t dictated by the use of his powers and demonic charms. “Photography is just a collection of small, passing moments--of memories. You’ll never lose to something like this, Jaehyun-ah,” he said calmly, gently, the affectionate suffix like the most natural thing to pass his lips in that moment.

[sensorv-blog]

jongdangel:

He offers a snort in turn, because even if he was feeling suicidal, Seven had never really had the guts to try; of course, that’s not to say there weren’t times where macabre images slotted themselves into his thoughts, and he found himself fascinated more than once with the feeling of a knife dragging across his skin while desiring the sting of laceration. However, he’d never thought of his tongue as more than that. “Not like I haven’t tried already; I wasn’t always able to feel pain in my tongue,” he grins; most of his masochistic tendencies as a child centered around exploring his tongue, seeing as it was the only place that offered him an outlet of relation to the world.

A somber feeling settles over him at the elder’s words, though it’s not as unfamiliar a feeling as the grin that scrawls across his lips at the sheer thought of Kiyong’s thoughts blossoming into scenarios in his mind. Bruises they couldn’t feel forming blues and purples across their skin, the smell of burnt rubber, the pair of them unstoppable. “Probably,” he muses, leaning his head back, “we would have been in trouble constantly. Either that or we’d never get caught, like a couple of backward ass vigilantes. Gotta admit it would have been fun.” Seven’s still fairly young, having only turned twenty a few weeks ago, and his childish impulsiveness causes him to lean over and sock a solid punch to the other’s arm. “Hyung. What’s one thing you always wanted to do when you were a kid?”

There was a comfortable, little snort of laughter escaping Kiyong’s lips at the other’s words, at how easily he picked up on Kiyong’s own musings; sometimes it still surprised him, how smart Seven was for his young age, how easy-going he seemed for his messed up condition. Or maybe it was just a characteristic of their relation exclusively--that Kiyong wouldn’t know, never bothering to pry and analyze more than necessary. It was easier that way, anyway. Enjoyable.

“When I was like--eighteen or nineteen maybe, I got interested in clinical death,” He started, a tale to be told in reply to the younger’s question. “I had this theory that maybe, after experiencing it and coming back to life, I’d be normal. There are those stories about people changing in all kinds of creepy ways after this happening, right? I wasn’t sure if that made any sense, but I was willing to try -- except that I had no idea how to put myself through clinical death without risking actually dying... So I never really pursued it.”

Something changed that day, Kiyong’s usually reserved manner of being, words minimal just like gestures, shifting into something more open, seeking interaction. Maybe it was an exceptionally good mood he had that day. Or maybe just feeling that comfortable. Regardless, after a short moment he continued, in that same, conversational, slightly melancholic tone of voice. “Other than that, I guess... I was too busy doing messed up shit to dream of things I’d want to do otherwise. My mother used to be so fucking worried about me not having a dream career, for example. I’d never had such plans for my far future. At some point, I declared I wanted to be a professional racer just to fuck with her -- but I also kinda always liked that idea, the speed and adrenaline and shit -- so she grounded me for two weeks and told me to rethink my life choices. Spoiler alert: I didn’t do much thinking and instead spent fourteen intense days of going through all kinds of porn and jerking off loud enough for her to hear. I was a nasty kid, what can I say. She didn’t bother grounding me anymore after that.” Another scoff of laughter, crooked smile in its rightful place on his lips. “What about you? Well--you’re still a kid, so; what do you want to do, present tense and all?”

[sensorv-blog]

continued from here -- @jvngtaekwvn

In that moment, Yongjin just deflated. While he had been all rigid and strained and full of anger just a second ago, all the air left his lungs right now, leaving them empty and nearly collapsing in painful manner. And he just stared, stared long and hard and a little emptily, because damn, if it wasn’t an incredibly cruel way to cut him off like that. Then again -- what else did he really expect?

“Thanks,” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm, shoulders curling inwardly and slumping as he instinctively shifted back and away from the male. The words and the hostile manner he acted around him wouldn’t affect Yongjin all too much, if only it wasn’t for that nasty, insulting smirk on his face. Was he really that funny? “Why would you ever pay me any mind if this is the kind of answers you always have for anything I tell you? Am I just that good of a form of entertainment for you?”

[sensorv-blog]

deperle:

* & @sensorv deserves a gift for their kindness ! ( this is for hanbin, please ♥ )

“I don’t like loud music too, it’s annoying. The soft and gentle melody of an acoustic guitar is much more pleasant to the ears than the extravagant and exaggerated sound of drums, for example. At least, that’s what I’ve always thought.”

He doesn’t say anything for a longer while. Minutes tick by, one after another, and Hanbin just sits there, legs bent in knees and crossed, the fluffy rug soft and warm underneath him, his back resting comfortably against the couch and eyes closed, muscles around them relaxed. It was a peaceful moment, the kind of a moment he always yearns for throughout the entire busy day at work – day where it’s loud, and bright, and stuffy, his senses constantly abused and making his mind squirm back into the darkest, farthest corner of his consciousness, just to get him through the overstimulation without going crazy. So even long after his company had gone quiet, Hanbin allows himself this piece of silence – save for the delicate, gentle melody of guitar’s strings being pulled at with care and practice worthy of an experienced musician.

Junghwan’s music caused Hanbin to relax – actually relax – and it wasn’t a very easy thing to achieve.

“It’s simple. It can be powerful, or melancholic, or heartfelt, or happy – but it always stays simple, and that’s where its beauty is. It doesn’t try to overwhelm you, shock you through sheer sensation overload, trick you into believing it’s some bigger thing while being just mere noise… Guitar is humble and kind to its listeners-- Hey, don’t–,” he said when the melody faded out sometime in the midst of Hanbin’s words, leaving his hushed voice alone and bare, “Don’t stop playing, please. Just a little longer.”

[deperle]

                             MULTIMUSE BLOG . SELECTIVE . NSFW . LITERATE . SINGLESHIP . OC                                             FOLLOW ( for an ask ) & REBLOG ( for a short starter )

[nottobecrossed]

Your “guardian angel” is actually a demon that protects you and hurts people that are mean to you.

[sensorv-blog]

jongdangel:

( @sensorv || continued from here with SEVEN ! )

“Well, yeah.” Seven gives the shorter version of the long winded answer circling his mind, because finding someone like you in a world filled with people who weren’t was like trying to find a needle in a haystack in the dark underwater. It just didn’t happen, and Seven had stopped trying. Not to people like him at least. So when he finds someone who is, it’s all Seven can do to keep him composure like he’s always done.

Seven’s not a man of many words, but he snorts at the other’s comment, a wicked sort of smile splaying across his lips in turn. “Wouldn’t that have been a damn good time.” He’s not sure how he would have turned out if he’d known him earlier, if his loneliness has been sated by the presence of even one companion who knew what it was like. “I’m pretty sure we probably would have wreaked a lot more havoc on the world than ourselves though.” 

His fellow companion’s words work like a challenge in Kiyong’s mind, turning and shifting until they produce the most deranged throughts possible, ideas dark and grim and somewhere between morbidly serious and inappropriately playful, just like his mood most of the time. “What, feeling suicidal now? It could still be arranged... I wonder if you could bleed out to death through your tongue?” He questioned with both awe and query in his voice--and perhaps a little bit of jealousy too, because in the end, even Seven had something that was still entirely unavailable to Kiyong.

“More than that, we probably wouldn’t be who we are and where we are right now, if we knew each other earlier. Probably ended up as deranged delinquents doing fuck knows what. Beating people up for money? Doing underground cage fights?” It was wishful thinking, mind wandering places where Kiyong wouldn’t let it go on a daily basis, not without having Seven’s ears to hear it, Seven’s mind to accompany it, the only one to ever really understand the meaning and importance of this real-time daydreaming. Kiyong was far too old to be a daydreamer, but here and now, he fucking deserved it; they both did. “Shit, that would be fun. Even if it sounds like something straight outta comic book.”

[sensorv-blog]

continued from here -- @sunsseo

It wasn’t like Hanbin wanted to eavesdrop, ears catching nearly every word and attention unable to stray from the scene. It wasn’t like he’d ever had that kind of intention, always being the one to strongly believe in concepts like privacy and minding your own business. But it was rather difficult, with how loud the two women were, (painfully loud, Hanbin decided, his ears ringing uncomfortably), with so many people already turning heads in their direction and commenting on the situation they were witnessing. The whispers made the tall male pull a bit of a face, a discreet flicker of annoyance expressed in a scowl, because it was just an argument of two people none of those observers really knew, so what right do they have to gossip and make downright nasty assumptions about either of the involved ladies?

He rubbed his hands together, skin unpleasantly dry after a few hours of work in vinyl gloves, screaming for at least a little bit of lotion and proper hydration, and made a small movement to continue going his way, wanting nothing more than a few solid hours of rest in a quiet, dim, comfortable environment. But then he chanced another glance in the scene’s direction -- the elderly woman disappearing from sight, surprisingly brisk for her age in that moment, and the other one, much younger, standing there, all still and, to Hanbin at least, seeming slightly lost and confused. Her shoulders sagged a bit and, looking at her from behind, she looked really small even in her high heels.

It was only after the words were out of his mouth that he stopped to think why exactly had he decided to come up to her. It was none of his business; and yet his caring, patronal nature ignored the brain’s beliefs anyway -- not for the first and definitely not for the last time.

“Oh,” He just said, lips forming a nearly perfect o-shape, because he’d really expected just a courteous yes and thank you, nothing else. But that--that sounded weird and wrong, and admittedly made cold chills run down Hanbin’s spine. “That sounds a tad bit worrying, if I may say so. It’s not something that could be potentially reported to the police, is it?”

[sensorv-blog]

fluorvte:

「 ♡ 」 … *┊                               WITH A SOFT MOVEMENT, Jaehyun let his hand run through the doll’s hair. After all those years, Jaehyun knew that Kyu needed some ministrations every now and then, especially when Jaehyun was paying too much attention to other people. But Yongjin was just too interesting to let him go without giving him any kind of attention. Sometimes, Jaehyun reached his hand out for Yongjin to hold, but for some weird reason, they have never touched. Maybe Yongjin didn’t like him? No, that was impossible.

“Nothing much.” Jaehyun lifted his doll up to look into Kyu’s little face for a second, then the young man laughed and pressed the doll against his chest again. “I would just have to leave him at home when I come to see you and then he would be mad at me, I guess.” Or maybe he would just force Kyu to come with him because Jaehyun wouldn’t let someone slip through his fingers when they were like Yongjin. Only when the other would be mean with dolls Jaehyun would be changing his opinion.

His eyes widened a bit when he saw the birds Yongjin was taking pictures of. Why would someone like birds and a grey sky? No matter how much Jaehyun was trying to understand the fascination Yongjin was feeling towards those sceneries, he just couldn’t understand it at all. There was just so much more colorful things for Yongjin to take photos of.

“But the sky is grey and misty…” Jaehyun puffed his cheeks out but soon enough his facial expression changed again to a cheeky grin. “I will pose for you!!!” Once he had Kyu under his arm, Jaehyun clapped his hands once, he almost ran over to a tree. “Here?” Carefully, Jaehyun made Kyu sit on one of the branches, knowing that his precious doll would be safe there. “Tell me what to do, I’m ready!!!”

Upon hearing Jaehyun’s words, Yongjin’s expression slowly, nearly cautiously, bloomed into one of happiness. Gentle smile curled at his lips and the unnaturally light, yellowish eyes that usually looked borlerline scary warmed up, becoming a reflection of his thoughts and emotions of that moment. With how attached Jaehyun was to his doll, it meant a whole lot to hear that, for Yongjin, he’d be willing to leave it behind, just for them to meet, to spend time together. It was so significant, and Yongjin, who wasn’t used to people thinking of him as particularly important, felt moved, touched and excited by the new idea that he meant something to someone.

The entire rush of emotions, along with Jaehyun’s own impatience, made Yongjin successfully lose the interest in the melancholic looking nature around them. He turned around in the male’s direction, nodding at his choice of background, as he fiddled around with some camera settings, adjusting them to properly capture the details of a person, rather than just the sky.

The thing is, Yongjin used photography as a way to catch and memorize the passing, volatile things of the life and world, things that would otherwise disappear the second you blink an eye. And he never wanted to see Jaehyun as something like that, something that would be there one second and be gone the next -- so he stubbornly refused to point his cameras at him, stuck in a belief that he was just another thing that Yongjin would soon only be able to look at on a photo. But maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe Jaehyun was a much more fixed part of this world than Yongjin had ever thought he was.

“Just... do whatever you want.” He said, softly, yet loud enough for Jaehyun to hear him through the distance, as he brought the camera up, successfully hiding his face behind it. It was a massive one, rather oldschool, the photos having to be processed and developed before anyone can see their final result. “Talk to me and move however you want, and I’ll be taking the photos, okay?” Yongjin suggested, snapping the first, tentative shot. If he was to photograph Jaehyun, he wanted it to be natural, showing what Yongjin saw on a daily basis, no artificiality and make-believe. He continued talking from behind the camera, taking just small shifts to the right and left to adjust the frame and angle. “Why do you always tag along when I go on my photography trips, if you don’t really like or understand it?”