Latest Posts by lillyotf - Page 2
♥︎ home cozy home !!
strawberry things 🍓💫
wow okay i'm sorry that you find me so unsettling and hard to be around because i look almost exactly the same as i did before i died but something just isn't quite right and my personality isn't the same as i was in your (honestly pretty unfaithful and self centered!) memories of me and you're kind of starting to regret raising me from the dead. as if it's my fault 🙄
miss when u were a kid and u could just walk up to someone and be like. let's be friends and they would be like ok
i lied. i don’t actually like sex. put your clothes back on, i'm going to explain to you how patroclus made achilles mortal—human. achilles might have died a heartbroken hero but he lived a loved man. and it was all because of patroclus. he was loved because of patroclus, he was more immortal than his demigod blood could ever make him because of patroclus. to be loved incandescently, to be loved back with wide eyes and an open heart is more priceless than a promise from the gods.
hold on a fucking second. delaware is a state?? i thought it was a river? or is the river more important than the state? why don't i know this? (i should mention i don't like in america, i'm just confused)
there is delaware (state) and delaware (river)
both are equally strange
the state is a tiny little cryptid thing
the rive is a monster that spans new york, pennsylvania, new jersey and delaware. also washington crossed it once and that was like kinda a big deal i guess. like crossing the rubicon in rome.
the state tries to me more important with its “im the first state!!!” bs (seriously its even on the fucking license plates) but we all know. its the river.
“I don’t know what living a balanced life feels like. When I am sad, I don’t cry, I pour. When I am happy, I don’t smile, I glow. When I am angry, I don’t yell, I burn. The good thing about feeling in extremes, is when I love, I give them wings. But perhaps that isn’t such a good thing, cause they always tend to leave and you should see me, when my heart is broken. I don’t grieve, I shatter.”
— Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey
— Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953
Benjamin Alire Sáenz, "To the Desert"
I love reading writers for whom english is their second language and analyzing how their first language influences their style. People whose first language is romantic tend to be very descriptive and flowery with their english, whereas german or russian first language speakers are a lot more concise and almost abrupt. Most of the japanese writers I've read have had a simple, surrealist quality to their writing. Almost like watercolor paints. I just find it interesting.
g._bin_: https://www.instagram.com/p/CYRUx6xJ-Qe/
Roaring 1920’s Art Deco cocoon flapper style.
More.
sagau
imagine if the reader respawned after they killed her. she just like, wakes up again on top of one of liyue's mountains, a huge scar in the form of a line around their neck. they could practically still feel the fear and adrenaline rushing through them as the guillotine fell down. it'd be simple for them to run off and try to hide somewhere.
meanwhile, the everyone is in absolute chaos.
they saw the golden blood and immediately realized how badly they fucked up. the corpse was there for a few seconds, just allowing everyone to get a nice, good look of it, before teyvat pulled the body into the ground to be healed somewhere else. i can imagine how xiao might try to chase after it; quickly falling to the ground with centuries worth of repressed tears flowing from his eyes. zhongli would be frozen for a few moments, the geo power flowing within him seemingly quiet. no hesitation from the sobbing venti to scratch at the ground and beg for their grace to come back.
teyvat knows that the reader can't go back to their home, teyvat never planned to bring them back in the first place, but at the world is protective enough to separate them from their acolytes.
-888 anon
Hello new anon what the fuck this is fantastic marry me /j bsjdndjddj THE ANGST I LOVE IT <333
Imagine reader having unending night terrors after that— how can they not? How can they even pretend they're okay after they were so brutally killed with their death being celebrated by the masses, by people they once adored and loved and built. If nothing else, the scar around their neck reminded them of their unjust murder, and so they keep themselves away from everybody, even children. They're painfully lonely, so scared and tired but they would choose this loneliness a hundred times over being killed again.
Reader's acolytes are tearing Teyvat apart in search for them, and are tearing into themselves for their foolish, unforgivable actions. Zhongli doesn't leave a single stone unturned even when the earth stubbornly ignores him, his adepti and the qixing at every other corner of Liyue; Venti flies over every nook and cranny of Mondstadt with the knights and even with dvalin, always praying and praying for forgiveness; Ei has all of Inazuma and the Commissions working triple time in her desperate search for you. Each night is spent wallowing and weeping for the horrific mistake they did.
None of them can find Reader of course; Teyvat no longer trusts them them with its Creator and so now, Teyvat will ensure they won't ever again hurt Reader.
14k Gold Hand Painted Mushroom on Mother of Pearl Ring
On the set of Dead Poets Society (1989).
the world is a cruel harsh evil place *had to get out of bed*
Yandere platonic uzui and his wives 🛐
Yes🛐🛐🛐
Look, whenever Tanjiro and the gang has to go on a mission for months, they drop you off in some Hashiras care. As much as it breaks Tanjiro's heart and Nezuko is full on sobbing at the thought of being apart from you, they both know you're safer with the slayers. Now, they usually drop you off with either the Ubuyashiki family or with Giyuu, but since they were busy, Uzui volunteered vehemently to take you in.
Tanjiro agreed because he knew he couldn't trust Shinobu or the other Hashiras just yet, and Sanemi was big no from the start because he hurt both you and Nezuko (even though he's now head over heels in love with you now). And Uzui's wives would keep you company too.
And they're all great actually. Suma likes to latch onto you and ramble on and on about the dangers of the world and the multiple times she thought she was gonna die. Makio was intrigued by your demonic powers and would often challenge you to wrestling (she always won). And Hinatsuru was the quiet one and she just liked to sit and watch you eat her food. Uzui, for some reason liked to make you run in the woods while he chased you, promising to let you go if you can beat him- obviously, you can't. Often times you would pass out because of your weak body and low stamina, and Uzui would carry you all the way back home, smiling and whispering little praises in your ear. The wives would always be worried when Uzui brought back your unconscious body, Suma even scolding him with tears in her eyes, for making you exhausted. You would wake up in between them, all cuddled up and wrapped up in blankets- no, you're not allowed to leave the bed unless they say so. They don't care if you're over heating.
It was all good in the beginning but then it started to get... uncomfortable. The thing is, they don't know what personal space is. Like Suma is trying to be with you every second of every day. You still haven't forgiven her for breaking the bathroom door to be with you (fortunately, Uzui told her to stop.)
Mako loves play fighting with you (and you can't say no unless you're sick), but then every single time she wants to check you all over for bruises and injuries, continuing to mock you for being so careless and weak all while she expertly applies ointment on your paper cut.
Hinatsuru, who you believed to be the most normal one of them all, was perhaps the clingiest one of them all. She's so strong and you can't fight her when she drags you to the bath to wash your hair- which she has a weird obsession with. Every single morning she forces you between her legs to do your hair and every single night, she brushes your hair before bed. Not to mention the creepy staring with a smile is getting to you now.
Uzui was acting abnormally too. He liked to call you infantalising names and treated you like a baby. One time during his training, you had managed to climb a tree and Uzui stood down there with his arms wide open and told you to jump into his arms. You looked at him weirdly before beginning to climb down the tree, only to be startled halfway to death as he screamed at you to not move. Then in a flash, he was climbing onto the tree, grabbed you and then jumped back down. He rubbed your back and kissed your hair, telling you that "it must've been scary for you up there, wasn't it princess? Of course, it was. All alone above so high."
The whole lot of them liked to dress you up. Oh yes, Uzui would give you his jewellery and he enjoyed pauntubgvyour nails the same colour as his. The girls would make you wear traditional kimonos usually in pink colours with childish designs on them.
And when Uzui goes off to work in the morning, the wives all rush to dress you up and drag you to him before he leaves, just so that he could kiss your forehead and ruffle your hair, telling you to be a good kid and listen to your mamas.
Oh yes, Uzui, that weirdo, insisted on you calling him "Dad" and his wives "mama". You laughed at first, thinking he was kidding but then he gave you that stern look and you told him "no, its- that's weird. I'm not calling you that." Which then lead to Uzui locking you in the pitch black basement and he wouldn't let you out for a day until you broke down and sobbed "Dad- please! Mama- dad- I'm sorry! Please let me out! Please!" And then you were engulfed by them and carried back to their bed, which you thought was a one time thing, but it wasnt.
You only hoped you could either beat Uzui and gtfo there, or wait for Tanjiro and Nezuko to return soon and take you away from them.
utilising the gift of imagination to hallucinate moments of tenderness between fictional people
“When Van Gogh was a young man in his early twenties, he was in London studying to be a clergyman. He had no thought of being an artist at all. he sat in his cheap little room writing a letter to his younger brother in Holland, whom he loved very much. He looked out his window at a watery twilight, a thin lamppost, a star, and he said in his letter something like this: “it is so beautiful I must show you how it looks.” And then on his cheap ruled note paper, he made the most beautiful, tender, little drawing of it. When I read this letter of Van Gogh’s it comforted me very much and seemed to throw a clear light on the whole road of Art. Before, I thought that to produce a work of painting or literature, you scowled and thought long and ponderously and weighed everything solemnly and learned everything that all artists had ever done aforetime, and what their influences and schools were, and you were extremely careful about *design* and *balance* and getting *interesting planes* into your painting, and avoided, with the most astringent severity, showing the faintest *academical* tendency, and were strictly modern. And so on and so on. But the moment I read Van Gogh’s letter I knew what art was, and the creative impulse. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way, you try to show this beauty in things to others, by drawing it. And Van Gogh’s little drawing on the cheap note paper was a work of art because he loved the sky and the frail lamppost against it so seriously that he made the drawing with the most exquisite conscientiousness and care.”
— Brenda Ueland, from “If You Want to Write: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit”
attempt to move an image in a word document leaves 7 dead 20 injured
Chinese garden in Berlin. 🌿
𖧷 We met two very friendly, cute ducks - a couple. They sat with us and even touched my feet.
A Tribute to the Unspoken, The Beginning
Box with my photographs and poetry.
I love dead poets society so much, I wish gay people were real.
went to a bookstore today. they had cats. and a typewriter where people could write whatever and tape it to the walls. really got to me
