#<3.writing

[lumiconic]

" even the sun is soft on the eyes "

✧ swimming with them at different times of day

✧ lyney, lynette, arlecchino ; fluff; it was supposed to have childe and freminent but i ran out of steam T.T

  lyney has a pyro vision, you know that; so his affinity for water must be nothing more than yet another magic trick. it doesn’t help that the golden sun, hanging high in the sky, practically blinds you with its light. when he flicks his hand and a spray from the river goes flying into your eyes, you consider dunking him if he likes it so much.

  “stop splashing me,” you protest, swatting him on the arm. “aren’t you supposed to be looking for rainbow lilies, or whatever?”

  “rainbow roses,” he corrects, wading through the river. his boots are on the bank and his pants are rolled up to his knees, but the vaguely expensive-looking fabric is already drenched, the stain spreading. he barely seems to notice, turning to you as he steps backward. “and if you aren’t gonna get in the water, then i’ll bring the water to – ”

  and then he’s gone with a massive splash, and you start laughing as you watch the flailing mass that’s his not-quite-able-to-swim self sink to the bottom of the river. and then you stop laughing and remember that oh yeah, he’s not quite able to swim. and then you start panicking and dive after him. 

  the water is freezing. it’s the hottest day you’ve had in ages but the deeper you swim, the colder it gets, goosebumps pricking up your arms that you’re barely able to see. you blink the blurriness from your eyes, chasing after lyney, who’s kicking furiously but still sinking with the weight of the heavy cape-thing trailing from his waistcoat. 

  he doesn’t look nervous or even slightly concerned yet. in truth, he could probably snap his fingers and magic himself back onto the riverbank. it’s ridiculous, but you can’t just swim away. at the very least, lynette would kill you. 

  he opens his mouth and a bunch of bubbles stream up towards the surface. his teeth gleam in the pale blue light. he seems to be able to see the scowl on your face, eyes crinkling; a school of gleaming silver fish whirls between you, and when it disappears, he’s on the bottom of the river, scraping into a gently waving anemone. 

  you want to shout what are you doing? but your voice won’t make any noise, much less travel to where he is, while in the water. you punch the water wildly, connecting with a fish exactly as lyney looks up. it squeals, darts away, and he looks at you like you’re a monster. you throw your hands up, floating in place for a moment, before paddling towards him again. 

  he’s still pawing through the fronds of a glowing mushroom-looking thing. you can see the shining blue powder collecting under his fingernails from where you are. he looks like he’s walking along the bottom, one hand clapped over his mouth and the other clenched on a rock to keep him anchored. you scoff, bubbles escaping your lips, and kick towards the bottom.

  “hey!” you hear him exclaim, though it’s more like a garbled shout than an actual word as you link one arm through his, tugging him away from the plants. this deep, it’s like you’ve plunged into a bathtub full of ice cubes. you have no idea how he’s dealing with the cold. “i’m – ”

  the rest of it is lost in bubbles as you brace your legs against the sandy floor, pushing downwards as hard as you can, and you go rocketing towards the sky. he makes some protesting noise, trying to wrestle out of your grip, but you hold on tightly. he would sink like a rock, and then you would have to fight him to come up again. you want to roll your eyes, but… you can’t force yourself to be annoyed. not really.

  you realize his vision is emanating heat. the longer he clings to your arm, the more warmth spreads through you. the river feels less like an ice cube, more like a hot spring. under his puffy sleeves, you can just barely feel his skin, as hot as a fire. if you held on for too long, you might get burned. 

  but right now, it’s okay. right here, when it’s just you and him.

  “i was doing fine,” is the first thing lyney says when his head breaks the surface. you let him go and swim a few feet away. he shakes droplets out of his hair, spraying in a circle; you can’t complain this time since you’re soaking wet too. it’s all you can do not to push him back under. “and i got a bunch of them!”

  “your sister would steal a gardemek and run me over if i just let you sink down there.” you glare at him, crossing your arms as you find a place to stand, feet barely scraping the underwater grass. “i’ve seriously had enough of you – how can you possibly live in fontaine and not know how to swim? and a bunch of what?”

  he digs in his coat, opening his mouth then closing it, a look of panic passing over his face. “w-wait – there’s no way i dropped it as i was coming up, right? after all that work?” he pats down his pockets, eyes going wide as plates. “i think i really did… oh, how could this happen! and i was so proud of myself, too.”

  despite yourself, your face softens. even if you’re annoyed, you have to feel bad at his rapidly mounting dismay. “what did you lose? i can go get it for you, if it’s that important.”

  his gaze whisks to you and you see the corner of his mouth turn up. he reaches towards you, scanning the water and the air around your face as you tilt your head up. “just – wait, i think i see it… aha!” he flicks the wet hair away from your temple and pulls a rainbow rose, shimmering and delicate, from behind your ear. “there it is.” 

  “you – ” you’re speechless, heat creeping up your neck. “where the hell… ”

  “a magician never reveals his secrets, etcetera etcetera.” lyney winks at you, peeling back his sleeve, and a whole pile of flowers falls into the water, bobbing there. the colors are iridescent, gleaming and fantastical. they looks like magic. though, maybe it’s not fair to compare them to magic, not when he’s right there.

  you search for words for a long moment. it’s harder than you would think, with his eyes on you. he shifts his weight forward, displacing the roses in the water. “... you know, you’re supposed to do that trick with a coin.”

  lyney clicks his tongue. “i thought you’d have figured out by now that i don’t do things the conventional way, my lovely.” the name makes your heart beat a bit faster. you swallow. he offers you the first rose and lifts his eyebrows. “go on, you can have it. put it in a vase and think of me whenever you see it.”

  “as if i need a reminder to think of you,” you mumble, taking it and rolling it between your hands. he seems not to hear you, humming as he turns, dragging the tips of his fingers through the surface. the petals are soft, yellow stamen dripping with a thick, sweet scented nectar. “but this is nice too, i guess.”

   you sit on the beach, gazing at lynette through your sunglasses as she skips through the grass a little while away. her boots don’t sink into the ground, moving like she’s lighter than air, despite the sun-softened, slightly damp earth; the tides washing up gently on the sand don’t seem to have any effect on it, either. or maybe she’s not really touching the ground at all. 

  she bends, scoops a glittering silver shell out of the water and pockets it. the water drips through the gauzy fabric of her leotard, and she twirls in place, skirt spinning out. water droplets spray in a circle, carrying through the air in a sudden breeze. she looks towards the horizon, seeming to watch the grass and trees sway in the wind.

  “hey,” you call out. “come here a second.” her ears twitch in your direction and she approaches you, tilting her head down. her hair blows gently back and forth, carrying the sweet scent of peaches and mint towards you, like a fragrant tea. you wouldn’t be surprised if that really was a flavor of tea she had been drinking earlier; you need to tell her sometimes to quit overdoing the caffeine. too often you’ve found her after midnight, reading with bags under her eyes and a teapot emptied ten times over.

  she sits down and you slide your sunglasses onto her head, pushing them down over her eyes. her tail twitches. “what are you doing?”

  “you shouldn’t look directly at the sun,” you admonish. “i know a boy who went out every day without glasses or anything and one day he went blind just like that.” you snap your fingers on the last word. her expression doesn’t change and she doesn’t make any noise, but you feel like you can feel an aura of disapproval radiating from her. you wilt, pouting at her. “huh, no reaction?”

  “you’re obviously lying,” she says plainly.  “i can tell from spending so much time around lyney.”

  “oh, of course,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips. you get to your feet. “come on, we’re here, so why don’t we go in the water? you know a lot of tricks, so you should show me!” 

  you can’t quite see lynette’s eyes through the dark sunglasses, but she shifts her weight to one side, leaning on her hip and unbuckling her boots hesitantly. “... they’re nothing special, but if you really want to see, then i guess – ” 

  “great!” you cheer, pumping your fist and tugging her over the ground to the shallows by the arm. you can’t help but shiver at the sudden chill, but she barely looks bothered, moving like the water doesn’t even exist. her steps are light, sending pale gold sand billowing through the waves, and she whisks away from you in an instant as though she’s dancing.

  she reorients herself, facing a marble pillar edged in gold that sticks out of the water. in a matter of moments she’s submerged up to her chest, and your view of her lower body is distorted as she heads towards the pillar. you clap your hands delightedly, scanning the beach and then racing towards a nearby boat a couple feet from the shore. you scramble onto it, heaving your frame up and over the side to sit with your legs dangling into the lake.

  “go, lynette!” you shout, cupping your hand by your lips to project your voice towards her. she leans her head to the side and looks at you, bright purple eyes glinting as brightly as the inside of an iridescent clamshell. the side of her mouth ticks up in a half-smile. she has your sunglasses clasped in one gloved hand and tucks them into another unseen pocket as she propels herself to the pillar.

  the marble is wet and slippery and from where you’re sitting, you can’t see any cracks or bumps in the smoothly polished stone that could possibly allow her to have such a steady grip, but she climbs easily, scrambling up the side to prop her legs on the top. lynette stares out over the lake, over the city; she feels miles away, coils of hair fluttering around her face. she looks picturesque. she looks like a painting.

  in a heartbeat, she’s on her feet and raising her arms over her head. you’ve seen synchronized swimmers before, with their elegant movements and expensive costumes, and her silhouette against the sun isn’t so far from theirs; with her frilled leotard, gaze sharp as needles and hands reaching towards the sky, she could be one. just another one of her many talents.

  she leaps from the pillar, fingers stretched out before her, and you want to applaud. applaud before she’s even done anything. then again, being with her always feels like a performance. like a dance. here you are, barely a few meters away, and – her eyes are closed. she doesn’t see you as she plummets from the sky to the sea. it feels like there’s something between you, like if you held out your hand you would meet something solid. a wall. or a curtain. 

  there’s barely a splash as she plunges through the surface, tumbling into the water. she disappears in a mass of glittering white bubbles. you lose sight of her, and then she reappears, and you want to jump too, duck underwater to see her fully. to take in every bit of her. 

  her tail flicks behind her, hands pushing through the depths as she goes deeper, less like she’s sinking and more like she’s falling through a clear blue sky. her hair flutters like a bird soaring in the air. she looks so gorgeous, so graceful. someday she will flap her wings and fly away from you. you know that as well as you know anything. when the inevitable deadly winter comes – she will be gone.

  but not yet. you can still keep your eyes on her, floating in the water. you can cup this moment and keep it close to your heart until it’s all you have left.

  lynette surfaces, pushing wet hair out of her eyes, the platinum color darkened to silver. she looks exhilarated, cheeks filled with color, breaths coming fast for a moment before they slow down, returning to her usual impassivity. she looks at you, barely kicking to stay afloat. “... what’s with that look?” she asks, one eyebrow arching. 

  you blink, lean forward to see your reflection. it’s slightly distorted by the soft ripples, but you’re smiling, eyes sparkling. eyes wet. 

  “did something happen?” she asks. her tone is slightly laced with concern. it makes your throat tighten. “you look… emotional.” 

  you lift your head, brushing one hand over your face, avoiding her gaze. “just looking at something pretty,” you say, eyes on the horizon. “that’s all.” 

  arlecchino’s face is cold and stony as always, like her features have been carved out of porcelain, but you think maybe you can trick yourself into seeing a hint of affection in her dark eyes. at the very least, she hasn’t drowned you yet, though her hands have twitched a few times towards your throat when you splashed her “by accident”.

  “it’s so cold,” you complain, dragging your feet through waving strands of seaweed. “it feels like winter.”

  “i don’t feel anything,” arlecchino says, hands laced behind her back. her voice is even, unbothered by the temperature. her suit’s train trails through the surface of the water, silken cloth fading in and out of ice-white, bloodred and gleaming silver. she’s tired today, unable to muster any more words than what’s strictly necessary.

  you tilt your head, smiling wryly as you step towards her. “probably because you’re the reason it’s cold.” it’s true, though she only blinks slowly at the remark; the water cools several degrees around her waist. you’ve made remarks before that she resembles a statue when she stands still, and now is no different – rising out of the lake with the sun setting behind her, hair gleaming like snow. 

  “why are we here again?” she questions. her heels are caught in the murky sand. “we both know that i’m not a swimmer.” 

  “just wait for a bit, until night.” your arms are wrapped around yourself, but you still manage an excited smile, an i-know-something-you-don’t smile. you’re the only person who ever looks at her like that; she’d bite the head off anyone else who dared, but… she just inclines her head. “fine. after that, i’m going home.”

  “okay, okay.” 

  the time passes leisurely. you float on your back, showing arlecchino rocks and shells that you’ve plucked from the sand. she doesn’t respond beyond a nod to most of them, but your pockets grow heavy with the ones that receive an appreciative blink. you snatch up a hermit crab and place it in her hand; when it pinches her palm, she threatens to crush and eat it, prompting a cry of outrage from you.

  the sun slowly drifts below the horizon; golden bleeding to red, then to dark orange, then a sedated gradient of blue. wind whistles through the trees surrounding the lake, and the cries of birds grow quieter and quieter. this secluded pocket of fontaine – far away from the city, the aquabus and anyone who could interrupt you – is somewhere arlecchino has never been. somewhere you’ve been begging to show her for a while now. so far she’s seen nothing remarkable about it, and if it was anyone else, she’d go home, but…

  but.

  the sun is completely gone by now, and the sky is velvet black and speckled with stars. you’re shivering, the shoulders of your gauzy shirt soaked through as you bemoan your decision to wear such thin layers. her face is cold, her eyelids are drifting shut; exhausted from days and days of nonstop work. a thousand duties for the tenth harbinger. 

  and yet you want so badly to show her, whatever it is that you’ve been waiting all day for. so she can stay at least a moment longer.

  the sky dims a bit more, and you push yourself up and onto the riverbank. arlecchino follows a moment after, and as the water laps at her boots, it feels like a shadow passing over her. she tilts her head up and sees that a cloud has drifted past the moon, dimming its silver glow; the air is cold and crisp like a peppermint. you’re sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest. 

  she sits beside you feeling like a child awaiting instruction, legs stretched out in front of her, and looks up at the sky. there’s a few heartbeats where the sound of your breathing fills her ears, shivering and frosty puffs escaping your lips, and then you make a delighted noise. “look, look,” you say, pointing at the water. “it’s glowing.”

  arlecchino glances at you, blinking slowly as if you’re playing a trick on her. but your eyes are riveted to the scene below. she tilts her head, looking down at it, and sees the bright blue sparkles, glimmering in the water like a thousand stars, fallen down from the night sky to rest in the sea. her breath catches in her throat. the river glitters as though it’s filled with gems.

  “isn’t it amazing?” your fingers twitch, like you’re going to try and reach out, touch it. she inches her hand forward inconspicuously, ready to catch you if you lean just a bit too far. you’re not looking at her, transfixed. “it’s beautiful. it looks like a dream.” 

  she peers at it. the azure gleam reflects in her black eyes, the red x-shape of her pupils standing out like fire in a field of flowers. she reaches out, stretches as far as she can, brushes her long, sharp nails through the surface of the water; blue light blooms wherever she touches it. her lips curve up slightly, then press into a flat line again.

  “it’s… ” she stops and blinks fast. “it’s just algae. it’s science. plants. it’s not… a miracle, or anything. there’s no need to fawn over it like that.” 

  you pull your knees up to your chest, touch the top of her hand. her skin is cold, dry and without pores, no marks in her skin anywhere. smooth and empty. you trace the silver lines threading over her fingertips like veins. “even if it’s not magic, it can still be a miracle. you know that, right?”

  she lets you run your hand over her fingers for a moment longer, then pulls it away. “... maybe. but it’s nothing exceptional. it’s a plankton. we could come back here tomorrow night and see it again. it’ll never go anywhere.”

  “that doesn’t change anything,” you say. arlecchino can feel your gaze on her. she looks down into the water, sees the fish swimming through the luminescence, tries to ignore your eyes burning like flames into the side of her head. it’s too pleasant of a feeling to her, who doesn’t understand pain. “just because it’s always there doesn’t mean it’s any less beautiful. maybe that makes it more special.”

  “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she hums. “you’d probably appreciate it even more if it disappeared for a while.”

  “i don’t think so.” you lean into her, slowly, tentatively. she doesn’t push you away, tucking her hands into her pockets. you shift your attention back down to the sea, as if you’re speaking to it when you say, the radiance of the water illuminated in your irises, “i’d rather have you here with me.”

© lumiconic ; please reblog and follow if enjoyed

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[dragonbleps]

what artists dont tell you is that every compliment is actually 100 compliments because they'll go back to re-read it 100 times and it'll make them feel fuzzy all over again every single time

[catmask]

when u go to write a mentally ill person in ur story you are presented two options. the first option is to write your mental illness realistically as you actually experience it with all the ups and downs and people who are like you will resonate with it and feel seen. except every person who reads instagram infographics on mental health that uses the phrase narcicisst for anyone who does anything that crosses them and unironically call themself a dark empath will call you scary and tell you that youre demonizing mentally ill people

the second option is to lie and write inspiration porn for those people to get hard to

[crimeronan]

god i wish i wouldn't have to explain the intricacies of the neopets economy to you guys to give the full context for this but. the new neopets team that took over from jumpstart pledged that they were going to curb the inflation of rare items, which is great because a lot of rare items are worth literally hundreds of millions of neopoints, they are unbuyable unless you've been playing actively for 20 years. they did this earlier with a site festival that included random loot boxes, some of which had Unbelievably Fucking Rare And Precious items worth 200 million neopoints apiece.

well.

today they have gone a step further. by releasing this year's trick-or-treat bags. and having the trick-or-treat bags be stuffed to the brim with unbelievably fucking rare stamps, weapons, paint brushes, defense magic, and other unbuyables. (all prohibitively expensive and in-high-demand types of items.)

jellyneo, the premier neopets website, has recorded prices of some items plummeting from 2,000,000 neopoints to 4,000 neopoints IN THE LAST THREE HOURS. this is when most people haven't even heard about the event or OPENED THEIR BAGS YET.

and of course. cherry on top. 20-year-old account holders are crytyping on the site events neoboard about how mean and cruel it is to make rare stamps part of the prize pool, because their entire identity hinges on being part of the neopian bourgeoisie, and they are having MELTDOWNS over their assets being devalued until they're part of the lowly proletariat.

this is a children's game for children btw.

none of the money is real.

i'm having such a good time.

[eridan-ampora]

i love it when characters are codependent. i love it when losing someone feels like losing a limb. i love it when two people "complete" each other so wholly and terribly that one can barely function without the other. i love it when the fear of losing the only person who understands them is so all-consuming they'll destroy anything to stay together, including themselves.

[fandom-trash-goblin]

i beg you to love me, say that i'm enough, but you tell me— why are you like this? i think there's something wrong with you.

for @shestrying

thanks to @acelania for finding the unknowns!

in image / desperation sits heavy on my tongue, tumblr user tullipsink / mary oliver, ‘north country’ / virginia woolf, letter to violet dickinson / in image / blythe baird, from if my body could speak / Alice in Bed: A Play' by Susan Sontag (link in comment) / lynee rae perkins, criss cross / elena ferrante, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay' (trans. Ann Goldstein) / rainer maria rilke, from rilke’s book of hours / in image/ in image

[hofudlaus]

also posting these two on their own :-) based on This post by @outpastthemoat

[tariah23]

The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

i'm begging you guys to start pirating shit from streaming platforms. there are so many websites where you can stream that shit for free, here's a quick HOW TO:

1) Search for: watch TITLE OF WORK free online

2) Scroll to the bottom of results. Click any of the "Complaint" links

3) You will be taken to a long list of links that were removed for copyright infringement. Use the 'find' function to search for the name of the show/movie you were originally searching for. You will get something like this (specifics removed because if you love an illegal streaming site you don't post its url on social media)

4) each of these links is to a website where you can stream shit for free. go to the individual websites and search for your show/movie. you might have to copy-paste a few before you find exactly what you're looking, but the whole process only takes a minute. the speed/quality is usually the same as on netflix/whatever, and they even have subtitles! (make sure to use an adblocker though, these sites are funded by annoying popups)

In conclusion, if you do this often enough you will start recognizing the most dependable websites, and you can just bookmark those instead. (note: this is completely separate from torrenting, which is also a beautiful thing but requires different software and a vpn)

you can also download the media in question (look for a "download" button built into the video window, or use a browser extension such as Video DownloadHelper.)

[lumiconic]

" first kisses "

✧ kunikuzushi, shikanoin heizou, yae miko, childe, collei, albedo ; fluff ; 5.6k words

✧ collei ended up being way longer than the others haha

  kunikuzushi has voiced his discomfort with touch many times, when you took his hand in the darkness of an underground cave, or patted him on the back after he negotiated out of a sticky situation, and every time you let go instantly without question, and didn’t touch him again for days and days. and yet now, he finds himself longing for the caress of your hand, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you.

   it’s a bit troubling, and he crushes the instinct every time, but it always comes back, wandering into his mind at the worst of times; in the midst of battle, you spin after lancing a treasure hoarder through the chest, and all he can think is how beautifully a spray of blood frames your face, leaving him motionless in the air for a moment, just enough time to be slammed to the ground, skidding through the dirt with the wind knocked out of him.

  you shout his name, panic lacing through your tone, and he curses himself for his stupidity as you spin a flurry of blows against his attacker before rushing to his side. he struggles to a sitting position, wincing as he fights to draw air in. how could he do something so dumb? to be distracted by you of all things while fighting? you, that stupid [name] who is so – who is nothing more than a hindrance, but –

  and then he’s struck dumb again as you kneel over him, inspecting for wounds without touching his skin even for a second. he wants to run his hand through the strands of your hair, left in a messy state and hanging softly around your jaw. you locate a bruise on his leg and dig for a salve in your pocket, unscrewing the top and handing it to him.

“jeez, what the hell was that?” you say, affection and irritation mixing in your voice. “how’d you get so unfocused, huh? we’re in the middle of a fight! you can’t just drift off like that and leave yourself open.”

the words wildfire frustration through his blood, anger that he can’t explain. how dare you act annoyed by his mistake when you caused it in the first place? “it’s your own damn fault,” he spits, voice more venomous than usual. he regrets it when your eyes widen and you look almost hurt, then confused. “wait, what? what did i do?”

  what did you do? he repeats the question in his mind. it’s more like – it’s just, it’s what you won’t do that’s driving him insane, and how you don’t even notice – how can you be so oblivious to his internal dilemma? the way he looks at you, even he knows it’s so far beyond the sharp rivalry you enjoy, or even friendship.

"you – i got distracted by you,” he says, and hates the way his voice cracks, hates how your face softens when you hear it. “because your face is – it’s – ” so unfairly pretty “ – so – so ugly, and – ” he can feel his blazing red blush raising. “ – and i couldn’t focus, damn it!” he finishes. “so change how you look or – or just shut up about it.”

  you look shocked for a moment, and then understanding appears on your face, the kind that makes him even more angry for reasons he can’t explain even to himself, and you half smile at him, hesitating for a moment before tucking a flyaway strand of dark hair behind his ear. he flinches away from the sudden touch and you jerk your hand back, mouth already opening, but then –

  then he catches your wrist, holding it where it is. and you both sit there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. your eyes, that are full of feeling and thought and human emotion, and he can only imagine that you see your reflection in his own fathomless irises, as cold and empty as a puppet’s black button eyes.

“kuni,” you say in a hushed voice. he can feel the pulse of your wrist, quick as a rabbit’s, and his own breathing is suddenly coming fast and shallow. the moment stretches out, some expression of surprise and hostility frozen on his face, and yet he can feel his own yearning. the pain in his chest as his eyes flick down to your lips. you swallow, tilting your head to catch his gaze. his face flames even brighter, but there is no mockery or judgement in your expression; just a soft, understanding longing.

“can i kiss you?” you ask softly, and his heart is in his throat, fear that mingles with aching, and there is nothing in the world he wants more in this moment than you. before he can think twice he gives a quick, tiny nod.

  you move closer, and he smells your gentle, clean scent that reminds him of rain or orange blossoms; the smell that curls through his dreams, and he has a second to think you even smell pretty, before you press your lips to his, and then he’s not thinking anything at all but there is a drifting, incoherent feeling of plain, serene happiness that he has not felt in a long time.

  shikanoin heizou has kissed people before; he’s kissed lots of people, more than he thinks is socially acceptable. he’s kissed most everyone he wants to. almost nobody can stand up to the full power of his charm and charisma, with his boyish good looks and the boundless intelligence behind his jade green eyes; sometimes just a single wink can do the trick.

  kissing is entertaining, for him, there’s no deeper emotion behind it. just something to do when you want to have some fun. he’s flirtatious, and maybe irresponsible, but it doesn’t cause anyone any harm, these shallow feelings that entwine with his playful, immature desire. he’s never wanted someone before. never felt a deeper pull than the one in the moment that can be satisfied with just a moment of contact.

  until now; until he met you; and now he is consumed by the dream of what your lips feel like. you are elusive, and enigmatic, and the most beautiful person he has ever met, with soft and sweetly knowing eyes that are earnest and yet unreadable to him in a way that no one he’s met has been before. it’s a foreign feeling, this yearning, and he wonders with a twinge of guilt whether he has taken this role for another person before with his casual inclination to flirt.

  he’s sitting beside you, leaning against a tree with his elbows balanced on his knees. you’re toying absentmindedly with a flower, tearing the petals off one by one, and his gaze is determinedly on the sky and not the way the light glints on your long eyelashes.

“do you think you’re a good kisser?” you ask suddenly, eyes still fixed on the flower as you open your palm and watch the soft petals flutter away in a breeze. his gaze flicks to you, and he’s taken off guard, but only for a moment. “depends on your definition of good,” he says evenly. “i’ve had a lot of practice.”

you laugh so hard you have to steady yourself, and it wounds his pride just a bit. he can’t tell if you’re making fun of him. you take a deep breath and then smile at him, eyes sparkling with some private joke.

“i’ve heard,” you say. “you’ve got no shortage of admirers here in inazuma, huh?”

“or anywhere.” he gives a small bow, and you laugh again. the sound sends a burst of satisfaction through him; a tiny victory, maybe. he always feels as though he’s accomplished something meaningful by making you laugh.

  you go silent, looking at him with a small grin that is, as always, indecipherable. he shudders as a tiny gust spirals up his spine, but keeps his eyes on you, trying to maintain his composure.

“what about you?” he questions, balancing his head on his hand, in as even and cool a voice as he can manage. “are you a good kisser, [name]?”

your smile grows. “good enough,” you reply easily, stretching out your legs and yawning. “probably better than you. why? do you wanna find out?”

  he swallows. his palms are slick with sweat, and he clenches his fingers into fists, taking a beat before he opens his mouth. you watch him without a word, looking more serious than you did before.

“yeah,” he answers. his voice is hoarse, but the easiness of the word is almost surprising. after everything, it was this easy? if he had known that – that the key to gaining this opportunity was simply to flirt like he did with so many others – ?

but no. you are different, somehow, almost off limits unless you initiated the interaction. he wants nothing less than to overstep with you.

  he repeats his assent, clearing his throat, and your eyes light up, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. you lean in, and he closes his eyes, and –

  and, your kiss sends him dizzy; you taste like the sweetest strawberries in the height of summer, and your lips are softer than he could have imagined. for that moment, there is nothing more than you and him in the world. he could float away on this high, like dandelions on the wind.

  you pull away first, and he fails to steady himself for a moment, face flushed with surprise and heat. you’re really so lovely, he thinks, barely able to put together that one clear thought; your face is knowing, and your mouth still slightly open. you swipe your thumb across your lip.

“i – ” he stammers. you smirk, tilting your head, and he swallows. “i’m definitely a better kisser than y-you,” he says, trying to regain his posture, but with you so close, your eyelashes nearly brushing his cheek, he can barely think straight, let alone speak with his normal wit and charm.

you roll your eyes at his attempt to recover. “you still think so?” there is laughter in your voice, mocking but not quite malicious. he nods, wiping the back of his hand across his face, and opens his mouth again – only to be silenced with a second kiss.

  maybe … maybe, you actually are better than him, he reflects silently as you cup his face, deepening the kiss. not that he really has a problem with that.

  yae miko wears the same teasing smirk every time you see her at the shrine, a smugly knowing expression of pure superiority that both irritates and captivates you. she takes every opportunity to demonstrate the sheer amount of knowledge she possesses over you, reveling in the way she’s able to shut you down with only a few words, then covering her mouth and laughing daintily, eyes crinkling with mirth as you scowl.

  of course, you can’t be entirely displeased with your situation, as she does instruct you properly in what to do. you know that there are many who would give their right arm to be in your place working underneath her, and indeed you do have a prestigious position as one of the attendants at the shrine. but she seems to enjoy exerting her power and intelligence a bit too much.

  you can’t decide whether you’re flattered or just plain annoyed by the attention she pays you, the way she seems to delight in your crestfallen face as she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a mix of condescension and disappointment that paints her in melancholy, but the sparkle in her dusky purple eyes gives her away.

  this time is no different; after waking up late, then sprinting as fast as you could from your small house in the countryside, then climbing the enormous mountain as quickly as you could to reach the shrine, you’re suffering through yet another lecture for the mistake you made while your head was still clouded with sleepy panic. you deserve it, technically, but – extenuating circumstances don’t seem to matter at all to her.

“ah, [name], yet again you’ve brought the wrong talismans,” she says, tilting her head and cupping her cheek. “goodness, how many times will it take you to collect the correct ones? you’re acting shockingly unexperienced. i’m starting to wonder whether it isn’t on purpose. do you really value your job so little? if that’s the case, i may have to replace you … ”

  you can practically hear her honeyed laughter as you stare at her, pink lips quirked into a secretive half smile. you look away, then back, sinking into a deep bow and keeping your eyes squarely on the ground so she can’t see the anger bubbling in them.

“please, lady guuji, i’m sincerely sorry for my mistake,” you utter in as apologetic a tone as you can muster. “i promise on threat of losing my job that it won’t happen again. this morning was especially hectic, and i’m very sorry for it.”

  her eyes brighten and she nods, gesturing you up. you raise your head, expression steady, but there’s still a hint of frustration that must show, because her gaze grows a bit darker with displeasure. you brace yourself for another apology, but when she speaks she almost sounds saddened.

“oh dear, you look so troubled.” she closes her eyes, shaking her head. “you know i’m only hard on you because i care, right … ?” her voice is soft, and she twirls a lock of hair around her finger as she talks, “i know it must be frustrating having to hear my criticism all the time, but it’s not for no reason. i simply want to see you succeed, and i do believe you can achieve great things … with my help.”

you’re shocked by what she’s saying; she’s never praised you or offered any genuinely encouraging words before, and her tone is nothing short of caring. you can almost accept her words as genuine, if not for the teasing glint still in her eyes. “okay,” you say quietly.

she blinks. “[name]!” there is some blend of hurt and shock in her voice. “you don’t believe me?” you stay silent, which is apparently enough of an answer for her, and she presses one hand to her chest. “my goodness, have you thought i simply disliked you this entire time?”

  she looks genuinely disturbed and wounded for a moment at your silence, and then – smooth as silk, it melts into a knowing smile.

“you must know that’s not the truth,” she almost purrs, taking a step closer. “i have nothing but appreciation for your hard work, and hold you in high regard … truly, it’s so hard for me to believe that you were of such an outlandish opinion.”

you open your mouth, but she presses one finger against your lips. heat rushes to your face from the contact. her eyes gleam. “really, i don’t understand how it could have turned out like that with all of the special attention i pay you … maybe i should have been more forward from the beginning, hmm?”

  she leans in and kisses you, and your eyes fly wide open with surprise before closing as she presses closer. her eyelashes are long and tickling your cheek. her mouth is so soft. she tastes like – like some archaic tea blend, the gentlest sweetness and bitterly fierce at the same time, and you’re so shocked she’s kissing you that you can’t even think straight.

  and then it’s over, as suddenly as it began; a spark flicks over your lips as she pulls back, one delicate hand on her chest and giggling softly at your dumbstruck expression. you touch your mouth, and she laughs harder at the disbelief on your face.

“oh, [name] … such a naïve and unexperienced cutie,” she says, and this time hearing your name on her tongue and her calling you unexperienced sends not vexation but a shock of excitement down your spine.

  childe keeps his affection for you no secret. he never has; somehow, he missed the memo to be cagey and quiet about his feelings, and instead every person in the nation of liyue (and probably beyond) knows about his “love”, as he calls it, “for beautiful and elegant [name], for whom i would buy everything in the harbor just to win a single smile from their pretty face.” you have a suspicion that tonia is writing scripts for him.

  he is everything but quiet, loud and brash and bold in everything he does. to you, he is shining and happy and gleeful, always laughing and offering you things, endlessly smiling. you have never seen that expression leave his face once; he is a shallow man to you, nothing but a flatterer with all glitter and no substance. you have never felt anything romantic towards him, but he continues trying.

  you’re picking sweet flowers and jueyun chilis one day, shrouded in autumn’s gold and amber leaves, but the cover of the trees does not shield you from the sight of approaching fatui agents. one brandishes a knife, flickering in and out of sight, and another holds a cannon. both are outfitted in armor, while you have no weapon or protection.

“w-what do you want?” you stammer, holding up your hands defensively. the man with the knife’s red eyes glimmer. “pay your dues,” he snarls, and advances closer with swift movements.

you hold nothing but flowers, and your heart is thrumming in your ears as flame licks at your feet and arms, causing you to wince with pain. you’re caught, you don’t have any money, and there’s nowhere to run.

  and then, he appears; red half-cape thing you’ve mocked so many times billowing in unseen wind, his eyes glowing menacingly. for a moment, you’re afraid of him, but his face softens when he sees you, nodding as if to say he’ll handle it, and an unfamiliar feeling of relief rushes through you. then he turns his attention on the fatui, expression hardening back into anger.

"what is going on here?” he says, voice thundering with barely restrained fury. the fatui go silent and still at the sight of him, a fact that confuses and almost scares you, but you’re too busy scrambling behind him to think about it. the fatui drop to their knees. “lord tartaglia,” the hydrogunner says mechanically, “we were simply collecting mora from this citizen – ”

  he sweeps his hand, and the man instantly is quiet.

“leave, now,” he says. the fatui protest for a moment, but he flicks his wrist and a long blade made from glimmering blue water appears in his grasp. he spins it casually, with deadly skill, and says, “do you really want to test your skills against me? this is an order. i won’t ask again.”

  the fatui go silent, then bow and vanish simultaneously, and you both release a breath. almost immediately, his threatening aura is gone. your heart is still pounding.

“[name],” he starts, turning and rubbing a hand down his face. “are you alr – ”

  you cut him off by throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him; he makes some startled, half muffled noise and you have to choke back a laugh. once he recovers his balance, he leans into it, with the easy confidence you would have expected from him, and yet … something about him is holding back; you can feel it in the grasp he takes on your hips as you cling to him, his hold light and ready to let go at any time.

  when you pull away, he’s smiling with a tense mix of giddiness and anxiety. you’re suddenly struck with self consciousness, looking away and tucking your hair behind your ear. you can’t believe you just did that. he rescued you, in a way, and it felt like – for the first time, you were seeing him as more than just a bored friend with too much free time. like he actually cared about you. like you meant something to him, something important.

“does this mean you – ” he says. his voice cracks just a bit and he cuts himself off. you cross your arms over your chest, managing to keep your expression even, and thankful that your hair covers the sides of your head; you can feel fluster coloring your ears bright red. “it means whatever i say it means.”

“so? what do you say it means?” he asks, meeting your eyes with a rueful look on his face. there is some measure of resignation there, something that says i know how you’re going to answer, and you decide to prove him wrong.

“it means i like you, moron,” you say before you can hesitate, and as his eyes – blue as the sea, and empty as its cavernous depths, but archons they really are beautiful – widen you pull him into a hug and bury your face in his shoulder, still trembling slightly from the stress of the encounter.

  he says your name, and somehow this time it carries weight behind it in a way it never did before. but you only close your eyes, taking in his scent, a mixture of dried flowers and ocean spray, that you never found comforting until now; now, you hope you’ll never leave the embrace of his arms, and something about the way he holds you makes you think if that was what you wished, you could stay like this forever.

  collei has bright, sparkly eyes, the color of amethysts; she has a smile that appears on her rosebud mouth with the grace and loveliness of a blooming flower, and a voice like a sweet, chirpy dove. she is pretty; even beautiful, but – you could never say it, not to her or anyone else. maybe it’s the trust in those shining eyes when she looks at you. or the way she grabs your palm, her hands warm, as she pulls you to the newest patch of blossoming florets.

  it’s like she’s sure of the fact that there is no secret in the world you hold from her, even though this one – your heart pounding when you hear her laugh – is the biggest you could be possibly hiding. you won’t tell her, you swear to yourself, that you love her, because that’s what it is, really. it’s love, plain and simple. you won’t tell her, because she’s too good for you and she’d never reciprocate.

  but this furious heartache, leaving you staring into space to dry out tears, is – well. it’s far from pleasant, but as long as you keep seeing her smile, you …

“you’re zoning out again,” she scolds, waving her hand in front of your face. you startle, blinking, then bow your head and apologize sheepishly as her disgruntled expression comes into focus. “ah, sorry collei, i was just … thinking.”

“i’ll give you something to think about,” she giggles, irritation replaced by excitement. “how ‘bout that?” she points at the sky, and you look up at the gathering grayish blue storm clouds. “we’ve got a rainstorm rolling in!”

  she loves bad weather and rain for some reason you’ve never understood. you wrinkle your nose, pointing out it’s monsoon season. the storms can flood through entire sections of the forest; if you stay on low ground where you are, the two of you could be drowned.

“we’re too far from the village to turn back now, what should we do?”

she taps her chin, thinking. “let’s … let’s head to the deeper part of the rainforest and climb a tree, so we’re high off the ground and just wait it out.”

you salute, smiling at her quick thinking. “you’re the boss.”

  in the time it takes you to reach the thicker sections of the rainforest and locate a suitable tree, the rain’s already started, seeping through your forest ranger’s clothing. she quickly constructs a makeshift umbrella out of thick leaves and sap, sliding it into the crook of two of the tree’s limbs. you watch her work, fast and capable; she really has grown from the childishly fumbling amateur she used to be. you take a seat underneath when it’s finished.

  she sits cross legged, with her face tilted up to the sky, eyes closed as raindrops burst over her skin and slide down her cheeks. she looks peaceful and happy. you’re curled into yourself, the chilly rain soaking you to the bone, and are about to comment on her stoicism when her serenity is broken by a violent shudder.

instantly, you peel off your jacket and tuck it over her. “you’re gonna catch your death of cold if you don’t get under here,” you say, pulling her underneath the umbrella. she sputters, but her teeth are chattering hard enough to break up her words into staccato.

“b-b-but [name], you’re gonna be c-cold too if you don’t have your jacket,” she protests, but you shake your head. “you’re colder, plus you made the umbrella, so just take it, alright?”

  she looks at you, eyes wide with such a cute expression – surprise, sincerity, gratefulness – you almost forget how to breathe. you look away and sit back against the tree, breathing slower, trying to preserve the heat you have left.

“i like you,” she says suddenly, and your heart practically stops.

  your head snaps to her, seeking for the expression of apology for such a dumb joke, or maybe innocent thankfulness, saying thatin such a childlike way, but – no, what she’s displaying is sincere, real affection, her face colored with a red blush. your breath catches.

she sits forward, tucking your jacket tighter around her. “i mean – not to say something silly and unexpected, but i really – i really, really like you, [name],” she says, her tone sweet, shaky and genuine. “i-i can barely focus sometimes ‘cause i’m always thinking about you, and just now, you gave me your jacket, even though – ” she presses her fists to her face. “i can’t keep it a secret anymore, s-so – even if you don’t feel the same way, i – ”

what ... ? as if i never felt the same way? no -- i truly, always --

“no!” you interrupt. “i like you too! i … really do,” you say, trailing off into a whisper. “i’ve liked you for so long, i can’t believe you … ”

  it’s quiet, then. neither of you says anything for a long moment.

“i-if we like each other, we’re supposed to kiss, right? i’ve never kissed someone before,” she whispers slowly, blushing furiously and stumbling. “can i … can we … ” her voice trails off and you wait, heart pounding in your ears. “can we … try it?”

you try to speak, and nothing happens at first, you’re so frozen with shock. you clear your throat, managing “really?” the word is awfully loud in the silence broken only by drumming rain, and she looks even more embarrassed, but nods anyway.

“okay,” you breathe. “okay. i … i’m gonna kiss you now, and – and if you don’t want me to, just say no, and i’ll – i’ll stop.” you wait for her to nod again. she’s trembling, and you can’t tell if it’s the cold or a nervous excitement. you have never seen her smile wider.

  you lean in and press your lips to hers. you can hear your heartbeat, and maybe hers too; she smells like flowers, of course, and the kiss is a sugary, clumsy, chaste thing. but it’s her, it really is, and she is flawless. she always has been. so it’s perfect too. and when she pulls away, that’s what she whispers to you as she wraps her arms around your neck.

  so that was the first kiss, awkward and new and genuine … and perfect; just like your beloved collei; and you can’t wait to kiss her again, and again, and again.

  albedo has always been handsome, but lately his beauty – that’s the only word for it, really – has been nothing less than otherworldly. you’re far from the only person in mondstadt to admire him, as he’s quite traditionally attractive, and polite as well; though of course less savory rumors surround him as well. as the knights of favonius’ chief alchemist, there have been quite a few whispers of his eccentric side and his strange experiments.

  this is far from a deterrent for you, however. you’re actually quite interested by his research and find it enjoyable to spend your time in his lab, helping out and simply accompanying him through his explorations of dragonspine. still, your intrigue in alchemy isn’t your only reason to partake in his studies, of course. no, not just his looks, either, but everything about him, really, from his habit of tugging on his gloves when he’s confused to the endearingly blank tone of his boyish voice.

  but of course, that unfair loveliness is the first thing you always notice when you see him, and it doesn’t go away. it’s what keeps your eyes riveted to the strands of his fluffy hair, dusted in the last few moments of sunset and a light haze of wintery white snowfall as you sit beside him, clutching a cup of hot chocolate and trying to keep your body still against the biting cold of the mountain.

  his bright blue eyes are relaxed for once in his life as he crosses his hands in his lap, staring up at the puffs of thick clouds against the rapidly dimming sky. he’s gorgeous, in a way that seems almost unreal, like he was sculpted from clay and brought to life as the perfect boy. you watch him in silence, affection crinkling the lines of your face into a wistful smile as the minutes pass.

“[name]?” he asks, turning, and you start. “uh – um, yeah?"

“what’s your type?” he says. your breath catches.

the question is almost innocuous, and yet his closeness, the slight blush across his face in the frostbitten landscape, has you shocked, your lips parting for a moment. his eyes flick to your mouth for just a second, then back up to your eyes, and – no, you must have imagined the way his cheeks grow just a shade darker pink.

“my type?”

“yes, sucrose has been telling me about romance, such as the oblivious and pining trope, and star crossed lovers,” he says serenely. “they seem to be very popular in mondstadt, i’ve seen many young women reading romance stories lately.”

  oh, you think, with a mix of relief and disappointment, he only wanted to know for his data analysis, as usual. well, there’s really no harm in answering; he’s been so oblivious about your feelings, anyway, he probably wouldn’t even be able to pick up on what you were saying.

“smart guys,” you say honestly, “people who are straightforward with what they want, and they should be devoted too, to what i’m interested in, plus the relationship itself. though, none of it is as important as them being a caring and kind person.” you smile thoughtfully. “i never would have expected this from you of all people, albedo.”

“ah, sucrose said the same thing,” he says almost sheepishly, “but i thought it could be – ” he clears his throat, swallowing before he continues. “ – interesting, to … engage in this sort of thing more often. it’s more exciting than i would have thought.”

you try to ignore the skip your heart makes at this, and prop your head on your hand, forcing your voice to a nonchalant tone. “really? so, have you thought about it a lot? what’s your type?”

  you know you don’t imagine it this time, his face blushing a bit redder, and it sends your heart into your throat and your pulse racing, though he keeps his balance and steady voice when he speaks after blinking slowly. despite yourself, you of course want to know his answer.

“people who show their feelings easily, and are willing to be patient,” he says, slowly, tapping his fingers on his knee. “and … i agree with you, that it’s important for them to care about my own pursuits. i think – it’s a sign of a good person who makes a dedicated effort towards partaking and showing interest in my work. someone who’s worth keeping.”

  his voice – such a stupid thing to focus on, and yet – he sounds like it’s you that he means, there is some meaningful quality in his tone, as calm and collected as ever, and yet his voice is warm, like a beam of sunlight cutting through the shade cast by a thick forest of trees. he’s looking at you, with those eyes that are as blue as the sea, and you can barely breathe.

  he leans closer. sunset has long passed by now, and the moon is gleaming bright in the velvet blue sky. the pale silver light throws his pretty features into shadowy definition, and when he kisses you, his gloved hand cupping your face, his lips are warm despite the cold; your eyes are closed, and yet all you see are stars.

© lumiconic ; please reblog and follow if enjoyed

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

[arggghhhsstuff]

forever obsessed with percy being weird. off-putting. strange even. a cryptid maybe. an urban legend if I may. my boy is the son of one of the oldest, most powerful gods, has been in FBI's records since the age of twelve, fought and won two wars against immortal beings, went to hell and back. I think he's allowed to be a little odd.

[theoldkyokodied]

This bloodweave art dump has it all: The price of devotion, the serenity of simple touches, cat to cat communication and iasip redraws with slightly altered dialogue

[inkskinned]

fucking hate it when the stuff everybody says "actually works" does actually work.

hate exercising and realizing i've let go of a lot of anxiety and anger because i've overturned my fight-or-flight response.

hate eating right and eating enough and eating 3 times a day and realizing i'm less anxious and i have more energy

hate journaling in my stupid notebook with my stupid bic ballpoint and realizing that i've actually started healing about something once i'm able to externalize it

hate forgiving myself hate complimenting myself more often hate treating myself with kindness hate taking a gratitude inventory hate having patience hate talking to myself gently

hate turning my little face up to the sun and taking deep breaths and looking at nature and grounding myself and realizing that i feel less burdened and more hopeful, more actually-here, that i am able to see the good sides of myself more clearly, that i am able to see not only how far i have to grow - but also how much growth i have already done & how much of my life i truly fill with light and laughter and love

horrible horrible horrible. hate it but i'm gonna do it tho

[dotcie]

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?