viralobsession

[viralobsession]

Dorothy Koomson, Goodnight, Beautiful

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“Look at you,” he whispers. “My monster, come to find me.”

— Alexandra Christo, To Kill a Kingdom (via mashamorevna)

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PSA: Reasons Why I Didn't Reply.

I missed your reply.

Tumblr didn’t notify me.

I’m unsure of what to reply with.

My muse is being selective.

I was honestly lazy.

I am NOT ignoring you.

You are NOT annoying me.

You are totally free to remind me that it’s my turn in our thread, and I will not be upset.  

[viralobsession]

[viralobsession]

justanotherrpmeme:

nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back or their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders

bold which habits your muse has

[viralobsession]

When I came back I didn’t need a weapon, I was a weapon.

Janet Pluchinsky, Queen of Fillory (via queennmargo)

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Reblog if your muse is open for polyamory ships

(This is not meant as a tool to guilt-trip roleplayers into unwanted ships. It’s simply meant as an easy way to confirm to your followers which ships your muse’s character would be up to.)

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I’m like that. Either I forget right away or I never forget.

Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot (via the-book-diaries)

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i have a PhD in getting myself into really bad situations 

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person: calm down.

me: I was calm but now i'm going to throw this entire desk at you.

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self care is so damn difficult when you… don’t… care… about your own self

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introducing my fave bad guy………..willy b

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you fucked up

idk what you’re referring to but probably

[viralobsession]

v. it ends with fists dragging against the ribs of all our broken promises. knuckles like hungry bloodhounds, bite and claw. hands like matchsticks, striking against cheekbones and all the places love is supposed to go. strike here, are we home? strike there, or are we lost? we’ve dug ourselves graves with our fists, but we still swing. a final blow, marred by our star-written initials, etches our last breaths into the sky. we hang above the world, forever separated. iv. it is dark outside and it is dark inside. the light switch clicks, but the lights have all been burnt out. the monsters within us, clawed themselves from every bolted closet door and out from under every bed and rug they were swept. they ate us whole from the inside out, they made skeletons of our kisses and sins of our touch. we smiled and we were rotten, our insides hollowed out, like dead trees. iii. here goes the symphony, the clashing of strings on broken teeth and the crash of drums within the chest. do you hear it? this is where we go wrong; this is the moment they will paint into the sky, so we can be eternal examples of what not to do. they will label us as catastrophic explosions of ash and bone, brought on by the festering need to hold on. they will erect schools in our name and they will teach the world—how to let go. ii. like two lungs, we breathe, always together. we are comprised of two bodies and yet we only have one set of lungs and a single heartbeat. when one of us falls, the other follows, like a shadow. we are war torn and battle scarred, we are a house of flesh and bone, and though we try to convince ourselves otherwise, we are but simple mortals. a punctured lung, a bleeding heart, a last breath for one, and a single lung breathing for two. just hold on, we sing, as we go round and round on this resuscitating carousel. i. it begins by accident: a tragic map of destinies tangling like fingers around throats and wrists. we planted ourselves within each other’s hips and we grew mercilessly inside the other. our kisses, like seals on our caskets. a kiss here, i will ruin you. a kiss there, declares war. who are we, darling? that’s right, that’s right. we are both the gun and the bullet. i love you; we’re we’re loaded. i love you, too; we’re cocked. our triggered lips; bang, bang. we built homes in each other’s eyes, my love, and one day they’ll become our graves.

K.E. (via masochisticsadist)

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@godscrown

Maybe it was something childish of Birkin but he was still sore enough towards Wesker that he’d been deliberately avoiding the other tyrant as if late. It was a bad thing, even he knew, because the longer that a wound was allowed to fester the worse it was at fixing it.

But it didn’t change the fact that Albert had utterly shattered the thin fragile pieces of normalcy that the scientist had been piecing back together bit by bit since coming to Valkyrie Island. While the megalomaniacal bastard went off and did his own thing the scientist got better at avoiding him, for the most part lingering within the lab that had been provided to him.

If anything William leaned back in the chair he was seated in, eyes momentarily closing as blunt nails scraped the back of his neck as he tried to rub the kink out of it. How long had he been working this time? Days? He couldn’t remember the last time when he’d even eaten anything or slept which was probably bad in and of itself, but there lacked the rather distinct ability to care towards that.

It was better this way. To work himself to the point where he simply couldn’t think, where the bitter anger towards his, let’s face it, only friend couldn’t immediately dominate through his mind.

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tumblr has basically stopped notifying me about anything at this point so please don’t think I’m ignoring you if you tag me in something, I just haven’t been receiving notifications!

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G… My creation will save me.