lily’s corner

17 - she/he - deaf + autistic

[negativelily]

PINNED 📌

- lily

- she/he

- 17

- deaf + autistic

i like a lot of things but here’s the main rundown!

- arctic monkeys

- spongebob

- bbc merlin

- adventure time

- the mighty boosh

- dan and phil

- memeulous, james marriott and willne

REBLOG FOR MOOTS !

[diphowell]

he looked so good in this 🚬

[pollsforadults]

You get transported into the universe of the last media you consumed. How are you doing?

This is better than my real life

I'm doing well

I'm doing fine

I'm not having a good time

I'm absolutely cooked

There is nothing different about this universe and my own

Voting ended onMay 29

[milanesa42]

imagine being 1-wife-ear sized

[negativelily]

ask game! list five of your favorite songs, then send this ask to the last ten people in your notifications

answering my year old asks finally... anyway

runaway mars argo

call your mom noah kahan

not today twenty one pilots

rawfear twenty one pilots

gleaming yng martyr

[negativelily]

Hey buddy, saw you reblogging a bunch of sad posts, thinking about you. I know it sounds like bullshit but as someone who’s survived being depressed, it really does get better and you find people that really love you and make it worth it. You’re worth reaching out for help.

almost a year late but i still needed to hear this. thanks anon

[mintyjell-y]

First post here, hello!! Quick pen sketch cause my photocards are arriving soon and I am manifesting :))

[cloudcatchers]

drawing arthur yeahhh

[mimimochaa]

The phouse in my head

[negativelily]

sometimes when i’m stressed out i look at the colour of the sky post in my mind

[phateofophelia]

I'm going to a heated rivalry emo night in May, how many dan and phil fans do we think will be there

[muanyeee]

If happiness is a circle

let time flow through us, turning it into forever.

You talk about fate ，and so do i.Our lips collide as we speak. Winter’s way too long, and spring still feels a bit far off. Let’s put aside what they call "responsibility" for a moment—just soak in the peace and the now. Bards will sing, stitching all these fragments together, 'til our tangled fates feel eternal, like the sword in the stone. But hey, who says we aren’t already? Forging a sword and wielding it—two sides of the same coin. We’re like the scabbard and the blade, everlasting and unbreakable from the start.

Hallo,Tumblr:)

I'm Chinese and not very good at using this app. I luv merthur and I'm gonna update my works on Tumblr.

[surrealpheal]

"two of my favourite things, Dan and the Buffyverse" 🧡 (for @adziedoodlesphan)

[negativelily]

consuming short form content feels like my brain is leaking out of my ears. scrolling on tumblr feels like autistic nourishment

[lauravian]

Only for you.

[parcai]

i think quite often about the implications of shane growing up in nowhere ottawa, a cottage at the edge of the woods, and ilya hailing from the cold, salt-stained streets of moscow. the way those two childhoods never stopped existing inside them. the way they surface in quiet, domestic moments.

shane kills the bugs in their house without thinking. he doesn’t even hesitate. just a folded paper towel, quick and clean. ilya, who flinches at the sound of loons on the lake, watches from a safe distance, faintly horrified. he has never been an exterminator. he has never needed to be.

ilya offers to hire someone to change a lightbulb. to replace a lock. to fix something small and ordinary. shane just blinks at him, slow and confused, because it costs ten dollars at home depot and then you do it yourself, ilya... that’s the whole point. that’s how it’s always been done.

but ilya knows how to endear himself to the local bakery. he leans on the counter, soft voice, easy smile, and every time they leave there is something extra tucked into the brown paper bag. being a millionaire means nothing here. every grandmother pinches his cheek anyway. every owner insists he take more.

he doesn’t need google maps when they drive through the city. he knows instinctively how streets bend, how neighborhoods breathe. he has every app for taxis, deliveries, reservations, tailoring. he knows how to argue, too -- sharp and precise -- when someone tries to take advantage of shane. no, you are not ripping off my husband. no, you will not get away with it (shane's no idiot, but yuna famously handles all his business, simply taking his interests in mind).

(by the same vein) shane, who barely knows how to negotiate a contract because someone else always did it for him (yuna, an agent, etc), knows the sky instead. he knows the constellations. he learned them standing beside his father, neck bent back, the dark stretching endless above them. (he was a boy scout for exactly 1 year before quitting bc it cut into hockey time). sometimes they lie on the patio furniture now, deep in thought, and shane points them out one by one, voice soft with certainty, and ilya listens like he’s being told a story (it reminds him, at first with a shock, of his mother, of bedtime folk stories told once by the first russian mother to the first russian child. of cannabilism and children being stolen by devils in the middle of the night, but it was still funny & sweet anyway, bc irina swore to always protect him before tucking his little toes in)

ilya fills their kitchen with beautiful, lavish, complicated things. heavy clay pots. expensive japanese knives. a coffee machine that hisses and gleams like something alive. the tv room with state of the art speakers & a remote system that takes shane 3 days to figure out how to use. shane brings the deck pillows inside before the first snowfall. he checks the seals on the windows. he knows which mornings the frost will come early.

they are both, in quiet ways, teaching each other how to live.

(and, more quietly still, carrying small, invisible pieces across that shared space between them. ilya learns to rotate his own tires. shane cooks his first stir fry. and what a beautiful thing that is -- for someone to look inside you and, somewhere in the shape of who you’ve become, recognize the person you love most).

it is strange, sometimes, to see the ghosts of who they were before this. the boy in the woods & the boy in the city. all those instincts, all those small private competencies, surviving into this shared space

and maybe that’s what love is. not becoming the same thing, but making room for the person shaped by somewhere completely different. letting their world fold into yours until neither of you is ever alone inside it again.

[girldan-pip]

you would never guess that this is phil's reaction to dan saying "fuck you cunt" to him