𓂀

To know the ocean, I have always felt, is to recognize the teeth it keeps half hidden.

𓍼 The thing about lying for long enough is you forget which parts are true. He's been this person for six years. He knows their sister's name and the way they look when they're almost asleep. He doesn't know, anymore, whether the man who loves them is real or just the most successful performance he's ever given.

𓍼 "You know, don't you," she said. Not a question. He'd been wondering when she'd notice. "Yes," he said. She nodded slowly, like she was rearranging something inside. "How long?" "A while." "And you stayed." "And I stayed." She looked at him for a long time. "Why?" He thought about all the complicated true answers. "Because it didn't matter," he said. "It didn't matter compared to everything else."

𓍼 She'd built this life brick by brick. New name, new city, new everything. Spent years learning to breathe without looking over her shoulder. And then he walked into the coffee shop and looked right at her and said her real name, the old one, the buried one, and every brick came loose at once.

𓍼 He knows three things about himself that nobody in this room knows. He goes to parties. He shakes hands. He answers to a name. He is very good at this and it has never once stopped being exhausting.

𓍼 "Tell me something true," she said. He looked at her across the table. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly he could feel it like pressure behind his sternum. He smiled instead. "I like this restaurant," he said. She looked at him like she knew. She looked at him like she'd always known. He thinks maybe she had.

𓍼 She practices in mirrors. Has done for years. The name, the history, the easy way of saying it like it's always been hers. She's perfect at it. She's been perfect at it for so long that some mornings she looks at her own reflection and for a half second doesn't recognize the woman looking back. She's starting to think that's not the life she was supposed to be living. She doesn't know how to find the other one.

a vibe-based ask game for moodboard lovers, dreamy muses, and soft visual storytelling

🌙 — what colour is your night self?

🍃 — describe your aura using weather.

✨ — what sparkles around you when you feel alive?

🕯️ — candlelight or neon glow?

🌸 — what flower grows in your chest?

🪞 — what do you look like in someone else’s dream?

💫 — choose a soundtrack for your soul.

🌊 — are you calm waters or crashing tides?

🍂 — what season clings to your bones?

🖤 — lace, velvet, leather, or silk?

☁️ — what shape do your thoughts drift in?

🌿 — what does healing feel like in colour?

✨🖤 — what aesthetic hides underneath your clothes?

🕯️🌙 — describe yourself in three soft images.

Feel free to alter dialogue to suit your muse!

“That really spooked you.” 

“I don’t want to pry, but.. I want you to know I also want to listen, if you want someone to talk to.” 

“Well, pretend I’m not here. What would you say if nobody could hear it?” 

“Does this happen a lot?” 

“Hey, what happened between you two?” 

“When is the last time you ate?”

“Is this okay?” 

“Hey.” 

“This is the third meal you’ve missed this week, are you okay?” 

“[Name]?” 

“What did he/she/they do?” 

“This … hurts you.” 

“You don’t feel safe, here.” 

“When you look at [trigger], you… what is that?” 

“What can I do?” 

“You were crying in your sleep.” 

“What do you dream about?” 

“Whenever you get stressed, you do this thing with your hands. What is it?” 

“You’re right, I don’t understand, yet. Will you help me?” 

“Should I leave a light on for you?” 

“I brought you some water.” 

“I won’t judge you.” 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with trust. You don’t have to tell me. But I’ll listen, if you do.” 

“Count your breaths with me, okay? Ready? One, two, three, four…” 

“I’m here.” 

“Talk to me.” 

“You don’t need to tell me everything. I just want to know how I can help.” 

“Let me hold your hair back, at least.” 

the parade

"Do it!" Djin encourages with a mischievous little grin.

Would her father and grandmother be disappointed in her participation should she be caught? Probably, but her aunt would be all for this! After all, you can't have order without a little chaos.

Avi considered the vehicle parked before them. The driver had put it in an out-of-the-way spot, probably so no one would ding or scratch it, so there were no other cars close by to risk as collateral.

After a few "test bubbles" formed over the cybertruck to make sure he got the size and positioning right, he motioned for her to step further back. If this didn't go as planned, that ugly three-ton hunk of metal could land anywhere.

One... two... three! The barrier formed with a sweep of his arms, blowing up from under the truck and lifting it off it's tires. It didn't do the full twist or flip he was half hoping for, but there was enough motion in it to have the thing landing on its roof with a jarring crash.