ideation. ᵃᵖ

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hello guys!!!  i’ve got a lotta new followers to check, but imma try to do some work here tomorrow!  some threads, and maybe even some starters!  so count this as a starter call!

[isolatetype-blog]

hello guys!!!  i’ve got a lotta new followers to check, but imma try to do some work here tomorrow!  some threads, and maybe even some starters!  so count this as a starter call!

[dreamwished-blog]

i just got back from an anime convention ( it was loads of fun! ) and i start work tomorrow, which is why i haven’t been around and may continue to not be around for a bit while i settle out my schedule!  please be patient with me!

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@codeckt

[plumgall]

[haleyincarnate]

Based off of this post by @rainsuggestion.

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floires:

              TOKEN   OF   GENEROSITY  left   dry  ,   stiff   cross’   fragment   bearings   for   widow’s   work   and   rough   hands   that   need   the   dirt.  It’s   the   widening   of   eyes ,  suddenly   frantic   and   drenched   in   wonder .  &   fingers   twitch   at    her   side  ,   humming   with    energy.    ❝  eh   ?   oh   –––––––  ❞   sheepish   smile   that   lifts   corners   of   lips   when   she   snaps   out   of   he   daze  ,  rubbing   the   back   of   her   neck  ,   it’s   a   small   welcome   she   offers  . ❝ i’m   so   sorry   !   It’s   just   –––––––   have   we   met   before  ?    you   seem   extremely   familiar…   ❞

             FAMILIAR?  For a moment Kumi studies the other, searching for a link that may not be ------ and even if there WERE, there is no guarantee of remembrance.  So wrapped up in games and self that oft the child does not notice when others are near, and even when she does notice she often fails to truly look.  Expression remains EMPTY, though there is wonder humming somewhere within her mouth.  How would this girl know her?  “I don’t remember you, even if we did meet.”

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dokitsuu:

NOT MUCH OF A TALKER, IS SHE? That was fine, of course. She had dealt with the type before. Maybe dealt wasn’t the right word. That made it sound kinda like talking to her was a chore but that wasn’t it. No, it was more? Hm. Shun’s content to wait for an answer that might never come, opting to turn her gaze away and fiddle with the hem of her skirt instead. She’s more adoring puppy than person when her current companion speaks. “What kind of games do you mean? I’m pretty good at Mario Kart …!”

        She does’t UNDERSTAND why the other is stuck beside her so; why she continues to to speak and be cheerful in the face of Kumi’s unrelenting emptiness.  She must WANT something from her, but gamer girl cannot begin to understand what.  “Mario Kart is pretty decent.”  Just because she’s edgy as hell doesn’t mean her gaming need be; she’ll play shooters and Sm4sh back to back, after all.  “Puzzle games don’t really require skill, just patience.  Racing games are less boring because you have to work harder.”

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tanadhal:

❝ mostly, i’d just hoped i wouldn’t have to watch a tiny shem girl die. ❞ there’s no doubt in his mind that josephine will charm whatever it is they need out of her wealthy ( and apparently incredibly negligent ) parents. why dwell? ❝ and look! ❞ he says, gilded eyes widening, a hand gesturing to her very living self.❝ it all worked out! ❞

      It likely says something dour that the thought that he could merely wish to save her for the sake of saving her is the very last to occur.  She still doesn’t quite but it, but, ah, well --- she’s nowhere else to be.  May as well remain.  “I suppose so.  Lucky for you, I still have access to much their finances.  Until they realize I intend to remain and cut me off, I’ll be more than happy to see that your Inquisition is --- well provided for.”

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@tanadhal

         “If you were hoping I might be able to curry favor with my parents, Inquisitor, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.  They’re not interested in revolution.”  OR THEIR DAUGHTER.  Ah, well.  “Though, if your diplomat is as good as you say, she might be able to squeeze a certain amount of help from them.”

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@ofiignition

           “Watch the way you talk to other people.”  Her voice is COLD.  An implicit threat.  ( she can’t stand bullies; not to others.  it matters not so much when others are cruel to her. )  “Not everyone is gonna lay down and take it.”

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spontaneously kisses her nose.

           He sees when she is spiraling.  When the thoughts are loud and buzzing in her skull, a barrage more unforgiving, even, than it always is.  He sees the way she rubs at her wrists through the long sleeves she wears, old scars brightening to fresh and irritated red; he sees the way she stares too long at windows on the third floor, the fourth, the fifth.  She wonders if he is skilled in the art of reading others or if she is truly obvious and no one, before, ever bothered to look.

                             He sees when she is spiraling, and most times he can guess correctly whether she needs to sob and scream and hold onto him so tightly that her knuckles whiten ( the only emotional extreme she ever indulges in; the only time she is ever human ) — or if the thoughts merely need to be disrupted.  If she can drag herself out of inky self - hate rising around her if only the flooding can be paused momentarily.  He guesses correctly here and the press of his lips to her nose is enough to knock her out of her thoughts and out of herself and back into the reality where he loves her.  ( she doesn’t believe him.  not really.  but she isn’t so afraid. )

         She’s shocked; of course she is.  She’s blushing profusely and she can’t look at him and she’s trying to remember if anyone has ever kissed her nose before and she can’t.  And maybe she is terrified because she has never learned to be anything else, but she does not snap or pull away or hurt him the way she might have once, to protect herself, to keep from being weak.

               She’s shocked and she’s afraid but she’s grateful, too.  Because she loves him.  Because for a brief moment the barrage of STUPID WORTHLESS UNLOVABLE stops and she can breathe and she doesn’t want to die.  

                                                         “—— Dumbass.”

[wordsnquotes]

She never speaks about herself. She could be anything.

Joe Dunthorne, Submarine (via wordsnquotes)

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like this for a starter tomorrow!!

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plaguerot:

 ❝     of  course .     ❞      he’s  almost  hesitant , eyes narrowing  just  briefly  at  her  request .     but  he  complies ,  side  by  side  with  the  girl  as  they  search .     curiosity  sparks  at  her  motives ,  what  defenses  lie  under  her  skin ?     what  does  she  hide ?     her  question  seems  innocent ,  but  words  must  be  chosen  carefully .     air  of  concern  hangs  over  his  shoulders ,  &  he  tips  his  head  just  slightly  to  the  side .     what  a  peculiar  child —–     what  kind  of  shiver  will  his  answer  bring ?     ❝     she’s  my  daughter.     ❞

         The smile does not so much as twitch.  The set of her jaw does not clench or tighten.  Her hands do not curl to fists.  But her EYES wash out like the tide and whatever was within them that was sickly before is gone now ------ everything is gone from them.  She is a monster and her name is VICTIM.  Her name is RESULT.  “Your daughter, huh?”  And yet Kumi’s still cheerful.  She turns them the opposite way the child went when they reach a corner.  “She had marks on her arms.  And bandages.”  There is a strange intonation to her timbre.  “Must be a clumsy girl, huh.”

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mothersins:

@isolatetype ||  ❤’d for a starter

                 HER WORDS OFTEN FELL ON DEAF EARS. Nobody would listen, or care and she was glad for that. Most of the time, she would watch the world and speak into it, softly. Nobody would hear and she would say ‘it’s not my problem’ that she tried and she failed. BUT IT WASN’T HER FAULT. They should have listened to her. EXCUSES. She could have spoke louder. Anri had said something to the other, something so faint it was lost in translation. So faint that maybe even Anri couldn’t make out what she had said.

          Kumi does not waste words, and she detests those who do ------ who speak so softly they may be ignored, deliberately or no ( oh, girl!!  you are a hypocrite! ).  If one will bother to speak, they ought to speak to be HEARD.  “Don’t fuckin’ whisper at me,” empty creature mutters, impatient in tone and form.  “If the words you’re saying are worth anything then you shouldn’t MUMBLE THEM.”

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sorry i’ve been a bit absent; things have been busy and muse sparse.  i’ll try to get my shit together!!