#bloomingdeed

[archived-hellesfeuer]

@bloomingdeed​    —    I  GUESS  YOU  JUST  GET  IT  OUT  OF  YOUR  SYSTEM  THEN,  THAT’S  FINE. 

ANOTHER   ALE   DOWN   THE   HATCH,   ANOTHER   DRINK   FINISHED   AND   CLINKING   DOWN   WITH   A   THUD   AGAINST   THE   BAR.         caduceus   joins   them   in   the   taverns,   joins   them   for   their   drinking,   but   he   rarely   takes   part.      caleb   cannot   blame   him   here;      this   establishment   hardly   peddles   the   best   of   fare.      in   such   like   this,   caleb   attempts   to   keep   himself      —      with   the   most   effort,   often   unsuccessfully      —      from   thinking   of   the   ales   and   wines   of   rexxentrum.      warm,   mulled   wines   passed   from   hand   to   hand   of   tired,   worn-down   friends   .   .   .      forbidden   ales   snuck   and   won   with   charm   from   dance   halls   and   seedier   inns   in   the   scant   hours   away   from   lessons.      happy   times   .   .   .      enjoyment   he   cannot   remember   but   with   a   heavier,   unsettled   agony.   

he   does   not   wave   for   another   drink.      he   fiddles   with   his   cuffs   instead.            “      rarely   does   that   trick   work   for   me,      ”            he   admits.      a   glance   to   the   other   side   of   the   tavern,   seeing   beau   and   fjord   and   jester,   laughing   and   drinking      (   only   milk   for   jester,   of   course,   as   always   )      and   lightened   by   the   fare   they   consume.      not   like   him.      another   clue   they   miss,   insisting   he   is   good      —      he   is   even   a   bit   like   them.            “      and   you?      what   .   .   .      what   is   it   you   do   to   .   .   .      ”            he   waves   a   hand.      he   often   loses   words,   but   when   he   is   a   bit   drunk,   it   is   even   worse.            “      when   you   need   to   let   yourself   .   .   .      go.      you   do   not   drink.      i   have   not   seen   you   with   beauregard’s   cache   of   drugs.      what   do   you   do,   mister   clay?      ”   

[commaless-a2]

@bloomingdeed​ !

‘ DO YOU think yetis have LOVE LIVES?? Is there yeti MARRIAGE?? ‘

[atlasburdeneda]

@bloomingdeed​ said : 37

❝   i stick with real things usually facts and figures when information's in its place i minimize the guessing game ... i don't like guessing games .   ❞

[lanternfreed]

THE  SILENCE  THREATENS  TO  SWALLOW  THEM  WHOLE  like  the  maw  of  some  formidable  beast.  rapunzel’s  stomach  churns,  but  the  touch  of  kindness  on  her  face  would  never  betray  her  unease.  that,  she’s  afraid,  is  all  she  has  to  offer.  “  I’m  still  trying  everything  to  get  you  laughing  at  me.  ”

@bloomingdeed  sent  :  37

[broughtflowers]

@bloomingdeed / starter call

“i like them.” like a lot of things that yasha says, this is said without preamble or warning as her hands pull his hair into sections. “and i’m glad you got them back.” something froze in her own chest, when she saw his family frozen. “are they all like you, with the mushrooms and gardening, or is that just a you thing?” 

[heavenlysouled]

@bloomingdeed

kiri chirps up at the much taller creature, looking over his very pretty accessories before focusing in awe on his very pink hair. the little kenku fluffs her feathers out, chirping again, this time clearly in delight, and squawks a wordless greeting, lifting her feathery like arms up in a wide gesture.

“i am kiri!”

[graviturgist]

@bloomingdeed​ /  ♡’d

“i was wondering —” to approach was... difficult, the request rolling about in his mouth as his tongue struggled to formulate it into anything coherent. essek shined at a great many things but this, oh this was not one of them at all it seemed, “if you would be so open as to consider, perhaps,” he spoke measuredly, as if calculating every word a fraction before it came out, “teaching me something about cooking.” 

[hexquiisite]

2, 6, 7, 8

✘ || Modern Setting Headcanons || Accepting 

2. how does their day-to-day outfit look like in various seasons  ( if applicable )?  do they use makeup or hair styling products?

Armir’s typical outfit is along the same length as a common goth outfit. He prefers to wear slacks or long skirts (skirts are more for a summery/spring-like weather). He’ll wear an assortment of different tops, but doesn’t wear anything that shows his mid-riff at all, and he strays from tank-tops unless it’s just too hot. He’s a fan of wearing those black sun-hats as well. Average day? Long pants/skirt, ankle boots, a long coat with a long-sleeved shirt underneath, and a hat. 

He DEFINITELY uses makeup and hair-styling products. If this is a modern fantasy setting he doesn’t have to dye his naturally lavender hair, otherwise he has to due to it growing naturally black (in a human, modern au). He loves to use skincare products and keeps up with what makeup looks good with his skintone - using gold eyeliner and is very liberal with highlighter on his scales and cheekbones. (I also wouldn’t put it past him to use an array of other products and colors like body glitter on occasion.)

6. most frequented public spaces during their free time?

When he’s not working, there are a few places he likes to frequent. He can be found looking in local bookstore(s), sitting in a cafe/coffee shop, visiting any other crystal shops/witch supply stores (if any), or simply spending time at home in the back garden. If he so chooses to go out at night, I’m sure there is a club or two he likes to visit as well. 

That being said, he doesn’t like to be in public TOO much, unless he’s with any of his friends. It’s a security thing. 

7. what’s their coffee shop order, dine-out order, ice cream sundae order 

His coffee shop order could be a couple of things: either an earthy coffee roast with a little bit of cream (1 cream), or a fruity tea. Contrary to popular belief he doesn’t drink his coffee black and prefers it to have an earthier taste, or a hint of something nutty. 

I’m not sure what his dine-out order would be, but as for ice cream he likes anything with dark chocolate or something swirled with a fruit (raspberry is preferable).

8. how does their flat or house look like?  how was it / is being paid?

He refers to it as a flat, though it’s a fairly small home. The inside has a bit of an antique feeling, but not without it’s warmth and gothic accents. It’s a two bedroom space with one bath, a room to entertain, a fairly decent kitchen, and a sunroom/mudroom in the back that is more a screened-in area made to connect to the garden space. He likes how removed it feels, given that there are some thick trees (that probably need to be taken care of) and a natural barrier that makes him feel a little more secure. He does pay monthly, using what he makes off of his store (formerly family-owned by his mother and father) to pay it off along with a few other side-business ventures he doesn’t talk about often. Armir finds it to be a steal for what most might pay, and enjoys living here.

[empirefire]

   @bloomingdeed said:   family   .

               like images, etched in glass.

                  in one, the warmth of an embrace of a mother with his hair, the soft voice of his father, the pride and love he never needed to look to see if it was there but did anyway, blue and brown eyes and faces he would never see to grow forty.  in another, the pride of youth, the promises of things larger than life, residuum piercing skin under the eyes of an unforgiving man, and wild, mocking eyes seconds before there’s a blade in the side of his throat and he watches foreign magic crush from inside and out both at once a sister bonded in spilt blood and nothing else---a shattered image, where every piece makes him bleed, but still whole enough to see the faces of people he will always fail.  a third one;  softer, foggier, and in constant movement---his hand on beauregard’s shoulder, caduceus putting himself between him and danger, nott on his shoulders. joy he’s long declared himself unworthy of, and the honesty of a tighter bond than a group---than mere friends, even. an image tempting to never look away from.

                  for a long time, those images aren’t allowed to coexist:  he doesn’t get to choose one---take his happiness when it’s come with such a price. disrespect the memory of those who wanted nothing like they wanted him to be good by leaving them behind to open that place for someone new. it’s betrayal, and he’s already committed that crime once against them, with the whispers of his teacher and friends steadying his hands every step of the way until the last one.  and he doesn’t get to choose this new one to stay with him, either---not with sons, brothers, husbands, sisters, mothers waiting for them. it’s selfish to hope them to stay, fill in a hole he himself carved in his life, and he does so all the same.

                  caduceus stays. veth stays. they all stay. and when his friend needs protection, when he knows he can keep him safe and in this life with something of his own creation, his mother’s name makes it so. if he tries, piece by piece, the images can fit together a little better. this time, no one demands he shatter them but himself---and that alone makes these people worth trying.

SEND ME A WORD, AND I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE ABOUT THAT TOPIC WITHOUT USING THE WORD.

[enastrcsarchived]

{ @bloomingdeed | sc }

“so...what now?” beau asks, biting her lower lip between questions. “i mean...are you sure you wanna come with us for this negotiation shit...and then traveler-con? ‘cause...we just saved your family. i don’t think anyone would fault you if you wanted to go with them, y’know? not that we want you to go! ‘cause we don’t! but like...y’know. that stuff.”

[commaless-a2]

@bloomingdeed​ sent a message! ( from this meme. )

❝ i was researching cup cheesecake recipes. ❞

SHE’S RESOLVED TO DOING HER OWN THING WHILE Caduceus does whatever he is while in the Cobalt Soul archives, poring through a thick leather-covered book ( over piles and piles of other books ) ー and Veth, though curious, lets him indulge in the silence, quietly looking over his arm to sneak a peek at the writing ( and Caduceus notices, though she’d like to think she’s sneaky enough to avoid being caught )  ー and she gets caught. A flustered noise emits from her throat, immediately leaning out of his way ー before she curiously leans in again, a subtle hand stroking her chin. ‘  Well ー did you ー did you, uh... find what you’re looking for? ‘ She asks, ‘ Cheesecake is ー uh  ー honestly, I’ve ー never... really tried it? It’s a delicacy, I think. Is it good? How is it in a cup? Is it just a bunch of cheese you put in a cake recipe? ‘

[commaless-a]

@bloomingdeed

“MR. Clay,” she POPS her head out from WITHIN her room, head TILTED, “I was just -- WONDERING, actually: do you think tall people give good hugs ?? And if THAT’S true -- do YOU give good hugs because of that ??”

[lunarwoven]

ghost molly for  /  @bloomingdeed

     the weeks felt long and dragged out, moving almost at a slow motion since he had ‘woken up’ over a stick dug into a fresh grave with a colorful coat hanging from the top of it. he had just started wandering, near aimlessly, but something brought him to something else, and that led to another, and then he was trailing behind a group of odd folks, hanging closest to a very tall figure with striking pink hair. he wasn’t sure why. he just did.

     his head hangs low one particular day as his faded, translucent frame heavily plods along beside the tall creature. he has no direction. he just walks, almost always silent, definitely always moving.

     “what am i even doing,” the wispy figure whispers to himself, breaking the silence this particular day, his eyes not lifting up from the ground as he navigates it alongside the fellow he had come to know as caduceus. he likes the most to walk alongside him. there is something about caduceus that he can’t place.

     regardless, he still had very few answers. walking among people who, by all rights, did not see him, was just something to do.

[broughtflowers]

grief

challenge my writing. send me a word, and i will write a drabble about that topic—but without ever using the word you said.

maybe she’s cursed ( she has to be ) because she keeps breathing even after they’re gone. 

                                                       ---

the flowers for zuala are pressed between the pages of the book mollymauk gave her, long after the both of them are gone. ( she cannot believe how long ashe has lived without them. ) maybe it’s fitting, the two of them together like this - in her book and in a heart she won’t let heal. forever, the two people whose souls matched her own. 

                                                       ---

she loves them fiercely, this little group of warriors who let her stop a war with them, who love her back, who call her family. 

                                                       ---

she says to caduceus one day - 

                                                        ---

she loses them just as fiercely as she loves them 

peaceful or violent, 

with rage or without. 

she loses them just the same. 

( no more mindless lost months, 

no more wandering,  or leaving. )

                                     she stays, she stays, she stays. 

                                                        ---           

she says to caduceus one day - 

when i’m gone, don’t bury me in the garden. i don’t want him to be alone anymore. 

                                                         ---

the grove is a safe-haven that she visits often, coming and going, sometimes with gifts - he likes gifts, she knows. she brings vegetables or herbs and helps him cook, or shows him how far she’s come along with the harp ( old, now, but well taken care of. ) sometimes, she just talks, or listens, and helps him tend the garden - 

and they remember. 

[heavenlysouled]

@bloomingdeed liked your post

stubborn was a good word to describe fjord. stupid was always a good, handy alternative. justifying the dare that earned him the current wide but not deep, though actively BLEEDING head injury... seemed a bit unnecessary. besides, fjord’s pocket was, after all, two gold pieces heavier.

“it’s really not that bad,” he insisted weakly, wincing as pain flared again.

[clayric]

@bloomingdeed replied to your post: @bloomingdeed replied to your post: ...

I HAVE HOPE NILA’S FAMILY HELPED AS BEST AS THEY COULD

BUT IF THE PROBABLY-MORE-THAN-5TH-LEVEL CLERICS AND STUFF COULDN’T..............