maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story 𓆜 𓆝
the graveyard book, neil gaiman / champion, marie lu / @nicolezaridze (website here) / another night on mars, the maine / high all the time, the neighbourhood / aphrodite made me do it, trista mateer / quote: winnie-the-pooh, a.a. milne, image: community (2009-2015); s3e14 "pillows and blankets" [art: @maudlincat] / dearalexandra (deactivated) / the circus, olivia levez / i'll give you the sun, jandy nelson
edit: the troy & abed quote photo was made by @maudlincat !!
image descriptions below the cut
1. Black text on a yellow background reads, "You're my friend. So you can't be a stranger."
2. Black text on a light grey background reads, "Someday, perhaps in the far and distant future, we'll find each other again."
3. A digital drawing of three blue houses with yellow windows on a black background. One house is in the top right corner, the second is in the middle left, and the third is at the center bottom of the image. Around the houses are various illustrations of blue clouds and green trees. To the left of the house in the top right corner, there is a yellow crescent moon with one eye and blue arms holding the leaves of a tree. There are orange outlines of two people walking away from each other, one in the top left corner and the other on the right, near the bottom. In the center of the image, black text in four yellow bubbles reads, in all caps, "We can go on a walk tomorrow, / or we can catch up in a year / I'll see you when I'll see you, / but until then, take care"
4. Black text with grey highlight on a white background reads, "What's another night on Mars? / With friends like ours / Anywhere is home"
5. Dark blue text on a medium blue background reads, "You're my best friend, I'll love you forever"
6. Blue text with yellow highlight on a white background reads, "What brings us together will always be more powerful than what keeps us apart."
7. A scene from the TV series "Community." A photograph of two young men, Abed Nadir and Troy Barnes, on the cover of a handmade yellow booklet tied together with red string. Abed and Troy are standing side-by-side and smiling. Troy has his hand on Abed's shoulder. Abed is wearing light green pyjamas with various spacecraft on them. Troy is wearing an orange shirt with a blue collar. Orange handwriting on the cover, above the photograph, reads, "Friendship of the year (again)!" Black text on a white background has been edited onto the bottom left corner of the image. The text reads, ""We'll be friends forever, won't we, Pooh?" / "Even longer.""
8. Black text on a white background reads, "To those who have already passed through my life and to those who eventually will: I love you. I miss you. The back door will always be unlocked if you ever feel like coming home."
9. Blue text on a white background reads, "I want you to know that there's always a home for you here."
My mom says that in Las Vegas, you garden with a pickaxe.
The desert resists this way of living.
Every house has a two-car garage and no basement. Everyone saved the money for the excavation for their in-ground pool. In Las Vegas in the summer, it is 110 degrees in the shade. No one goes outside, except to use the in-ground pool. Air-conditioned cars drive into air-conditioned garages and people slip inside without ever seeing the sun.
The desert resists this way of living.
In the desert there are canyons where the deep shade holds the chill of night. In the desert are rivers flowing through the heat of summer, cool water from the aquifer, carried here through the earth from distant rains.
The dam floods the canyon and the river water, trapped, evaporates by the gallon in the hot sun.
Under the water in the reservoir are old footpaths, ancient trees, carvings in the cliff.
The dam draws water away to the thirsty city and its desperate lawns and fountains, the dam churns out the power that keeps the city alight.
Las Vegas rises from the desert like a mirage, like a heat-stroke hallucination, like a fever dream. Las Vegas swallows the river and the power and the wealth of far-off places and all these things evaporate under the desert sun.
In the desert, there are towering cacti which bloom only at night. Their sweet nectar draws the bats. In the desert, the purple evening is just cool enough to walk in, and the bats follow you and dance around you, drawn to the bugs which are drawn to your skin. The red rock radiates sun-heat back into the deep sky. In night time, the desert breathes, and the stars are more brilliant than anything you’ve ever seen.
as long as we’re having an adventure // me and you, just like how we started
(/rp)
///
always gold by radical face // humans are creatures of habit by @/isolatedphenomenon // brothers by @wolfythewitch // the hunger games by suzanna collins // photography // dream smp tv tropes, tommyinnit // hard to love by ONE OK ROCK // what happened to goodbye? by sarah dessen // error by thetoyboxes // tik tok // wilbur soot, dream smp // l’manberg national anthem (extended) by kanaya // the boy i love left me for revolution by elisbeth hewer // brothers one by nancy meek // forget me not by @wolfythewitch // tommy, dream smp // the story of how i didn’t graduate high school by neptune holub // reckless by cornelia funke // lament of the right hand man by precious jewel amor // quote by mary atwood // big eden (2000), dir. thomas bezucha // ON WATCHING YOUR BROTHER DIE by @nightmare-rivulets // tommy, dream smp // villains || the fesitval by toktupus // quote by robert goolrick // villains || the fesitval by toktupus // achilles come down by gang of youths // liar by the arcadian wild // tommyinnit, origins smp // hurricane love by @/grendel-menz // antigonick by sophokles, translation by anne carson // tumblr tag, unsourced // lent by autoheart // elsa’s song by the amazing devil // good grief by кир // ON WATCHING YOUR BROTHER DIE by @nightmare-rivulets // the world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire by ritika jyala // tumblr tag, unsourced // play with dynamite by amanda fagan // froi of exiles by melina marchetta // hanging heavy by KNGFSHER // choke by chuck palahniuk // wilbur, dream smp // chaos by toktupus // it was like this: you were happy by jane hirshfield // brittle (wake up) by meltycanon // untitled poem by @/modelbuses // nov 6 by @/exai // motion sickness by phoebe bridgers // six ways to draw a circle (on wikihow) by @/filmnoirsbian // marjorie by taylor swift // straw house, straw dog by richard siken // i heard there was a special place by @wolfythewitch // a letter to my mother that she will never read by ocean vuong // how do you accept your brother’s murder at 17 by makenna greene // quote by paulo coelho // in memoriam by @snailsnfriends // i hope the way you’re coping… by @/koskimlia (instagram)// antigonick by sophokles, translation by anne carson // edna st. vincent millay, in letters // art: it really felt like i was going somewhere by @/elesq, writing: what’s in my heart archives by @/sabrinagazali (instagram) // where things come back by john corey whaley // exile animation by lounixxu // the ghost has no home by jeff clark // hate me if it helps by @/almart_8 (instagram) // father’s son by celeste // i had a dream about you by richard siken // blue by кир // himinninn er að hrynja, en stjörnurnar fara þér vel by ólafur arnalds // the brothers karamazov by fyodor dostoyevsky // art by @ashrayus // tumblr tag, unsourced // the worm king’s lullaby by richard silken // the brothers karamazov by fyodor dostoyevsky // tommy, dream smp // final waltz by sad-ist // wilbur soot, dream smp // final waltz by sad-ist // cassandra: a novel and four essays by chirsta wolf // west wind by mary oliver // i want you by mitski // dream smp tv tropes, ghostbur // letters from maine by may sarton // winter of artifice by anaïs nin // i didn’t meet you, i recognised you by @/ophanims (instagram), blacked out by me // blasted by sarah kane // an excerpt from my diary // are you the same person you used to be by @heartrevoked // unknown poem // vulnerability by @/achillics // guilty by cavetown // the beauty of the husband by anne carson // ON WATCHING YOUR BROTHER DIE by @nightmare-rivulets // being your past was enough by @/str.ang.er.s (instagram) // soap by @nightferns // tumblr post by @/unsenttextsuggestions // wilbur soot and tommyinnit, dream smp // a list of things i will ask of the next person i love by @/sumayapoetry (instagram) // inevitable by orla gartland // big fish (2003) dir. tim burton // tommy, dream smp // fear of dying by jack off jill // post by @superkitten-poison // art: we were patriots by @idalus, poem: cocoon and blood neptune holub // 3 handmaids tale by margaret atwood // hitting on 16 by wilbur soot // post by @/buckykingofmemes // the lion in winter, 1968, directed by anthony harvey // white ferrari by frank ocean // wilbur soot and tommy, dream smp
Two identical infants lay in the cradle. “One you bore, the other is a Changeling. Choose wisely,” the Fae’s voice echoed from the shadows. “I’m taking both my children,” the mother said defiantly.
Once upon a time there was a peasant woman who was unhappy because she had no children. She was happy in all other things – her husband was kind and loving, and they owned their farm and had food and money enough. But she longed for children.
She went to church and prayed for a child every Sunday, but no child came. She went to every midwife and wise woman for miles around, and followed all their advice, but no child came.
So at last, though she knew of the dangers, she drew her brown woolen shawl over her head and on Midsummer’s Eve she went out to the forest, to a certain clearing, and dropped a copper penny and a lock of her hair into the old well there, and she wished for a child.
“You know,” a voice said behind her, a low and cunning voice, a voice that had a coax and a wheedle and a sly laugh all mixed up in it together, “that there will be a price to pay later.”
She did not turn to look at the creature. She knew better. “I know it,” she said, still staring into the well. “And I also know that I may set conditions.”
“That is true,” the creature said, after a moment, and there was less laugh in its voice now. It wasn’t pleased that she knew that. “What condition do you set? A boy child? A lucky one?”
“That the child will come to no harm,” she said, lifting her head to stare into the woods. “Whether I succeed in paying your price, or passing your test, or not, the child will not suffer. It will not die, or be hurt, or cursed with ill luck or any other thing. No harm of any kind.”
“Ahhhhh.” The sound was long and low, between a sigh and a hum. “Yes. That is a fair condition. Whatever price there is, whatever test there is, it will be for you and you alone.” A long, slender hand extended into her sight, almost human save for the skin, as pale a green as a new leaf. The hand held a pear, ripe and sweet, though the pears were nowhere ripe yet. “Eat this,” the voice said, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes straight ahead. “All of it, on your way home. Before you enter your own gate, plant the core of it beside the gate, where the ground is soft and rich. You will have what you ask for.”
"my father, he killed me; my mother, she ate me: self, desire, engendering and the mother in neon genesis evangelion" by mariana ortega || episode 1: "angel attack" || manga volume 8, stage 51: "mother" || manga volume 14, stage 92: "birthday" || the end of evangelion (1997) || manga volume 5, stage 33: "aquarium" || "evangelion and the old testament" by carl gustav horn || episode 19: "introjection" || episode 20: "weaving a story 2: oral stage"
ON FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, BLURRED LINES, AND A LACK OF CLOSURE
1. hard feelings/loveless - lorde / 2. @unsenttextsuggestion / 3. el lenguaje del limbo II - mariana restrepo / 4. blue nights - joan didion / 5. @blossomfully / 6. “the pillowcase” in everyone i love is a stranger to someone - annelyse gelman / 7. let me hold you - malcolm t. liepke / 8. the predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us! - sufjan stevens / 9. talk me down - troye sivan
When Adam bit the apple he did it because he trusted Eve. Because he loved her. Adam bit into the apple because the woman he loved told him to, no matter what God said. No matter the rules of heaven. What’s heaven to a woman’s love anyway? What’s God to your wife? The first sins of humanity, were trusting others. Eve trusted a snake, Adam trusted Eve, and I trust you. Maybe that’s a sin, just like the first couple. Maybe everyone’s right about us and we’re sinners and we offend God. But like I said, what’s God to a woman’s love anyway? What has heaven got that I can’t find sitting next to you on a cool autumn morning?
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
