#8bitfiction

[sofokl13]

sometimes your home could be a person

«I’m your home», 8bitfiction // The Mountain Goats - Midland // Finding Dory (2016) // Mitski - Wife // ??? // Flatsound - They’ll Like Me When I’m Sick // ??? // Talking Heads - This Must Be The Place //  «I leave my house to see you», 8bitfiction // The Front Bottoms - Vacation Town

[aeontriad]

8BITFICTION

[malaisequotes]

“I forgive the world because it has you.”

8bitfiction

[no-road-home]

may the sunflowers always lean your way, sunshine!

[thriftedtchotchkes]

one more cup of coffee

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 850

a/n: pure, falling in love fluff based on the 8bitfiction quote "your color is everywhere"

You never noticed it before today, but now it’s everywhere. It’s in the coffee he drinks in the mornings, sewn into his fall jacket and winter coat, and stained onto his guitars and wood carvings. You can even see its richness in his hair and eyes. 

The color brown is everywhere. It’s his color. You’re constantly surrounded by him whether he’s with you or not, and the thought is so comforting. 

Joel doesn’t have a favorite color—you’ve asked him before and the answer is always the same—but if he did, you think it would be brown. It has the potential to be so many things: warm and deep, yet dark, and so full of life. Just like him.

They say when you fall in love, it’s something you just know in your heart is true, but they never say when you know. If it’s sudden or something that builds over time until you can’t ignore it anymore. 

Maybe it’s different for everyone, but you’re discovering that it’s possible to wake up on an unassuming Monday and realize how much you love the color brown. And the man it reminds you of. 

You always thought it would be some big revelation that changes everything, but here you are sitting at the kitchen table, sipping your coffee out of Joel’s favorite owl mug, feeling exactly the same. It’s how every morning goes and how they’ve gone every day for years. It’s your routine.

You hear floorboards creaking above you, and then there he is: right on cue. Walking down your brown, carpeted stairs in his brown suede coat, looking at you sleepily with the fondest look in his brown eyes. You watch him over the rim of his mug and he chuckles, shaking his head as he makes his way into the kitchen.

“There’s about a dozen mugs in this house and that’s the one ya chose, huh?” he says, voice still thick with sleep, as if that’s anything new. Your next sip is an extra loud slurp, and you let out a satisfied haah for good measure.

“I dunno what to tell you. Coffee just tastes better out of this one,” you shrug, and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, opening the cabinet to find something else to drink out of. “You drink yours too fast, anyway. It’d be wasted on you.”

Scoffing, he picks one with the phases of the moon printed on it that you’re pretty sure he found in a museum nearby. It’s Ellie’s favorite, but you both know she never eats breakfast and hates coffee, so he can get away with using it. 

“Not my fault I got places to be,” he looks at you pointedly. The moka pot on the stove starts to boil, and he waits for it to fill up before pouring himself a cup and sitting at the table across from you. “Still don’t know why ya got up so damn early when your shift doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“Maybe I just like seeing you off in the morning. Ever thought of that?” He eyes you skeptically. You lean forward in your chair, resting your arms on the table with a grin. “Or maybe I just wanted the mug.”

Obviously, it’s not just the mug and Joel’s well aware of that. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you right now with adoration and a hint of wonder in his eyes. It must be mirrored in your own, and now you’re wondering if he notices anything different about you today. If he realizes what you suddenly woke up knowing with absolute clarity.

“Well, you’re gettin’ both this mornin’. Lucky you,” he says, giving you a small smile. And he’s right, you are so, so lucky. 

“Yeah, lucky me,” you nod, disappointment blooming in your chest as he takes the final sip of his coffee and gets up to put his cup in the sink. He returns to where you’re sitting to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Gotta go, sweetheart. I’ll see ya for dinner,” he murmurs into your hair before turning to leave. You reach out to grab the sleeve of his coat before he can get too far.

“Hey,” you start, heart beating a little faster in your chest, and he looks down at you curiously. You know you’ll see him again later, but you need him to hear it before he goes. It’s not that you’re expecting him to say it back or suddenly feel the same way you do, but you just…you want him to know. 

“You know I love you, right?”

His gaze softens and, this time, he leans down to kiss your lips. You close your eyes and sigh into him, tasting coffee and toothpaste as his tongue brushes fleetingly against yours, and when you open them, all you can see is brown.

He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead on yours, those warm brown eyes looking at you as if for the first time and, yet, the same way they always have.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

[intermezziinternet]

OOC Pinned

18+ only. Will contain triggers around violence and self injury

Yeah. So. I made my durge into a mage. Yk. ┐(• ◇•)┌

This is Rodion. A Cult of Ecstasy newbie in Upstate NY who totally isn't a widderslainte. And if they were, the reformation tactics used by their mentors are definitely working 100% without issue.

Muse uses they/them and is 30 years old.

Has a Youtube channel where they cover songs using mostly string instruments and vocals. Can be found ic.

Pfp by sacrxm on Twitter. Header by 8bitfiction on Twitter and IG

Rules

Preferred universes are WOD and CofD.

No racism, ableism, transphobia, or other bigotry.

Unless otherwise stated, all posts are on the character's blog. Will rp para/long form.

Ask about doing major plot stuff, but feel free to interact.

I reserve the right to block anyone

[vironicadart]

It’s all for you; everything I do. 

Gabriela Mistral, from a letter to Doris Dana ( @liriostigre ) Strawberry Blond, Mitski (art by @fridayiminlovemp3 ) | A Little Life, Hanya Yanagihara ( @hjarta ) | Untitled, @8bitfiction | The House of Love, Adonis ( @angesirene​ )

[julyhighcry]

oscar wilde / @art-creature / mikko harvey / richard siken / sue zhao / 8bitfiction / sandra cisneros / taylor swift / @bonemeadows / @jovialtorchlight

on almosts

[museontheside]

[asstronautboy]

It’s actually quite sexy of me to be having an identity crisis right now. Very chic.

[t0ms-d1n3r]

[wiltingsky]

“may all your lovers forget their names as they scream yours.”

-8bitfiction

[sunsetz4u]

conspiracies of the universe

all these theories i have heard about wormholes, cosmic inflation, and multiverse make me wonder how i might be like in those infinite universes — and if i have already met you in one or several parallel universe out there.

the thought of having multiple universes — “the entirety of space, time, matter and energy is all happening at once in different timelines” — may sound too extreme, but if you think about it the entire universe is huge, and we only know about the observable universe. there can be a lot more universe existing beyond what we are able to observe. 

and somewhere along those parallel universes, i am a different person and so are you. 

maybe in another universe, you and i are back to the 70's and we listen to the rolling stones and joy division on our vinyl records, singing the wrong lyrics as we go. and we fall in love at the restaurant downtown, sipping our favorite drinks and we look at each other in the eyes with the sun making them look like honey. 

maybe in another universe, we're far apart and we are fond of sending handwritten letters to random address, only to end up on each other's mailboxes. and we are filling the jars with coins with “big dreams” written on it, so sooner or later we'll meet beyond the boundary.

maybe somewhere, you're the same person as you are but without your favorite instrument on your hand though. this time, you sing and you sing for me. you lull me to sleep with your favorite songs, your sweet voice welcoming me in my dreams. or you can be in a band and you write your own songs. and that every word you sing at your show, i swear you sing it for me; your nonchalant voice echoing in the small place as you say, “this goes for the one i love.”and we look at each other in the eyes and you can be the kyle scheible in that generation, and i won't ask for any other. 

or we are completely strangers out there, with exactly no idea of each other's existence. time unfolds and ends without us having the chance to know each other's names and make memories that will haunt us forever because we can't happen. at least, in one universe i am not in pain because of you — just because i haven't met you in my life.

we can be complete geeks who spend nights together under the moon as we wonder about the existing universes out there, too and all the possible things that exist. we can be listening to the still nothingness of the night as we look down over the houses in this blue neighborhood, thinking the world can end in such a night like this and we'll just disappear completely without no one knowing we existed and lived a happy short life, with each other around.

maybe there is a universe out there, i am what you want and you look for me in a sea of people just like how i search for your familiar back in the crowd. 

a universe where the cowardly lion knows how to love has got to be  out there somewhere — where my universe treats me as his universe, and not just a mere dust in the galaxy. 

but this observable universe is full of exchanged glances between could've been lovers. i am missing you right now and you aren't in my arms. i just wish i knew what makes you think i'm special. if only i can signal the aliens, we can be lovers in those places the stars will lead. 

today darling, i will just have to wait for destiny to work on us.i clung to the idea of me and you happening in another universe because in here, you do not see the galaxies when you stare at me, you do not stagger as i talk, do not die when you touch me. maybe in another universe, i deserve you.

— a confession to the universe and all the things beyond; are you the love of my life in those infinite universes? ; january 23, 2019.

[sigh-v]

[neptuneio]

things that cloud my mind at 2am (mostly things i didn't say that i probably would never be given the chance to)

they say that if my thoughts are strong enough it'd transmit to you and manifest in a visual form so i'm sorry. i'm sorry if you wake up late at night, troubled and confused. that was me trying to make a dream contact with you. i don't mean to disturb your sleep. i just want to remind you i'm still here.

i'm sorry you had to fill the crevices of my broken heart just so i won't be emptied of love again. i emptied you instead.

i can still picture you touching me in places no one else ever had. i imagine you kissing me like i was water, and you were a lonesome traveller who have ran out of supplies. i cling onto these memories but they are only silver strands of what once was, a poignant blur of the night i turned nineteen. and i know memories like they are my friends — they evanesce as quickly as they manifest.

i'm sorry if your name still wanders between the margins of my unsent letters to you. i'm sorry i wrote you in a miscellany of old and new poems. it's the only way i know to cope with your absence.

there are times when i feel unloved, as if all the universe conspired against me. i think of you and suddenly i am happier — just in a sad kind of way.

i understand that you're happy without me but i miss you. i miss you. i miss you. i still want you.

in my dreams, hope has been keeping me company — that someday you will be back, that our story is not over yet, that i can continue holding on to you, to us. but then i wake up and layers after layers of realization and sadness blanket me. how am i supposed to hold on to something that already let me go?

youy uou yout yoy yi8 ypu yiu YoU.

good night, good night, good night. i will embrace my pillows tight and pretend they're warm enough. good night, good night. i hope to wake tomorrow feeling... good — even without you by my side — night.

photo: 8bitfiction

[minisizedickenergy]