Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Love Begins
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Today's Document
No title available
🪼
occasionally subtle
izzy's playlists!
Kiana Khansmith
No title available
No title available
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
bliss lane
ellievsbear
No title available
todays bird
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
𓃗
One Nice Bug Per Day
seen from Peru
seen from Serbia
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
@ourcboros
they say, 'there is no such thing as destiny. there is nothing you can't control.' but they are wrong, so wrong. i choke on my secrets, i show them my scars. they say, 'memories are like family, you can always walk away.' ( they haven't seen their FATHER since high school ).
#OURCBOROS. a dependent nazli demirtaş established by rachel on the 16th of march, 2021.
biography. statistics. pinterest. noxtms.
chacswins:
“Fuck.” The English language is complicated animal, with many idiosyncrasies and odd ways of describing situations. So perhaps fuck wasn’t the most flowery or mature thing to say when Damien was walking into the place he almost died in. But it felt most appropriate to him.
As he does best, he slinks to the backs of each crowd, desperate not to be noticed in a place he most likely would be anyway. “This is,” He says out loud ( defeating his original idea. ) “Very fucking depressing.”
“it’s a memorial,” they’re input isn’t needed, nor has it been asked for, but damien just happens to put voice to his thoughts as nazli passes by. much like him, they’ve been keeping to the edges of every individual event, lest they get drawn into meaningless small talk by some well meaning ex classmate or worse, offered condolences for the death of a father everyone had only chosen to mourn rather than curse the memory of, two years ago. they’ve thought pretty much the same all day, but the key difference really is the fact that they didn’t think it appropriate to say aloud. “funnily enough, we’re not really meant to be dancing for joy. why did you come if you were expecting any different?”
𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: the white wyvern, knockturn alley ! 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: @cvriousheart !
"two galleons,” nazli shouts at them without preamble, inclining their head towards the stubby boardman wannabe on stage and adding, for clarification, “on him winning.” someone who had staggered into the bathroom they’d taken up haunting earlier in the night had said something about betting on the outcome, and someone else had directed them towards none other than oriana trelawney. it didn’t seem entirely their speed, but naz had been confident enough in approaching them until a long enough beat passes for them to start wondering if they’d been fed false information and with uncharacteristic sheepishness they ask, “you’re taking bets, right?”
Sylvia Plath // Holly Warburton // Working for the Knife, Mitski // Are You Satisfied?, MARINA // House of Hummingbird, directed by Kim Bora (2018) // Lady Bird, directed by Greta Gerwig (2017) // Tender Offerings, First Aid Kit // Play it Again, Sam directed by Woody Allen (1972) // Ruins, First Aid Kit // Ikiru, directed by Akira Kurosawa (1952) // Nightlife no. 1, Sangram Majumdar // Sorry to Myself, Alanis Morissette // Sabrina, directed by Billy Wilder (1954) // The Book of Disquiet, Fernando Pessoa (1982) // Rashomon, directed by Akira Kurosawa (1950) // It’s Not, Aimee Mann // Les Animaux de Distance, Paz Boira
The complexity of being free, but forever imprisoned by the idea of not knowing what you could or should be
cvriousheart:
( 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ) — outside the daily prophet offices, negotium walk ( 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ) — open
oriana pushed the door to the daily prophet office open with their shoulder, bag slung across their shoulder and coffee in hand—one of those paper to-go cups that never seemed to actually keep coffee warm, full of more syrup and milk than coffee. They carried a tension in their shoulders, the sort they’d come to expect after work but it was worse today than normal. “my editor struck down my planned article for tomorrow.” it was a complaint spoken in the direction of a friendly-looking face. they drank the coffee, grimaced—cold and bitter with just a hint of the copious amounts of sugar and syrup they paid for. “apparently an article about sightings of sybill trelawney’s ghost is too distasteful.” then, they took another drink, finishing the coffee in a gulp, all the overpriced syrups and sugar seemingly contained in that drink—sunk to the bottom now, after half a work day spent sitting on their desk, forgotten.
they should’ve had an inkling about what they were in for the minute that oriana appears and directs bitter words towards them. nazli doesn’t know them WELL ( same house, a few years apart / same trauma, much the same ), but they’re easily recognisable. the only chance they stood of guessing where the conversation was going to go would’ve been remembering what one year anniversary they’d somehow managed to hit, though, and forgive them, but nazli doesn’t keep track of when their professors were brutally murdered. “that’s one way of coping, i suppose,” they’re not judging. really, they’re not. merlin knew they’d dealt with their losses in weird ways too, but with no idea what they can offer ( they can be forgiven for this, too; they’re only crouching on negotium walk to get some fresh air on their lunch break & weren’t expecting this unfolding moment ), nazli keeps it simple, “you want a cigarette? you can tell me all about it.”
𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: shared house ! 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: @graciieux !
“you can’t keep doing the dishes like that.” she was LUCKY nazli was the first to emerge from their bedroom, this morning. their bleary eyes an unnatural shade of turquoise and a rat perched on their shoulder ( hairless rum was the chosen one, with coke sleeping as soundly as their muggle roommate back in her cage ), their first stop upon trudging into the kitchen like every step pained them was the coffee pot, their words a mumble. even the smell did wonders for them, and as they waited for the machine to heat up what little remained in the pot, they admitted, “it is effective, though. how’d you get so good at cleaning spells?” maybe they just didn’t share the knack, or maybe they’d spent too long doing things the ‘muggle’ way to master the alternative - nazli had never been able to trust magic when it came to their chores, and there was probably a degree of jealousy fueling their early morning chastising.
ofmccnlight:
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 was meant to be a quick break : a way to catch a simple breather . nazli’s presence in the bathroom brings forth a new sort of excitement . itʻs a different sort of BREAK . nazli brings the promise of relaxation , both with with whatever sheʻs snuck in with the her and the EASE of her company . ❝ i might have heard that once or twice , ❞ she agrees easily , before her face melts into a smile . she ignores the stalls as well to hop up on the counter beside their fellow ravenclaw , making grabby hands at the other in silent request . ❝ hiding away from the festivities then ? i noticed you didnʻt sign up for a date for the evening . ❞
someone needed to get into contact with the current batch of ravenclaw students ; there was a perfect research study that could be conducted out of how their alumni always seemed to seek solitude in the middle of a party. it wasn’t the first time that nazli and luna had found themselves happy to be alone together & truth be told, it was unlikely to be their last. luna wasn’t like anyone else that naz knew, and they enjoyed her company FAR too much to avoid it on a night like this. relinquishing the blunt to her without complaint or hesitation is as small a kindness as it is a price to pay, after which naz directs a wry sort of smile their way & leans their head back against the mirror. “do you pay much attention to my movements, luna ?” playful smile plays around their lips even while they give a delicate shrug of their shoulders, deciding the truth is worth saying. “i don’t see the point in all this. i mean, who decided valentine’s day had to be this whole fuckin’ thing ? there’s no emotion, it’s all just... money.”
“ANTIGONE: And also because - Oh, my darling, my darling, forgive me; I’m going to cause you quite a lot of pain.”
— Antigone, Jean Anouilh (trans. Lewis Galantiere)
ft. @dolors !
- Kaveh Akbar, “Forfeiting My Mystique”
[text ID: And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them. /end ID]
Danez Smith, “It Began Right Here”
ft. @dolors !
𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: amortentia, diagon alley ! 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: @ofmccnlight !
for a moment, they are a deer caught in headlights. the door to the bathroom pushes open and nazli freezes, the flame of their muggle lighter flickering just inches away from the tip of their joint. they’d done their best to choose the space with the least amount of traffic to hide away in & are briefly fearful of being caught in 4k before the other pushes all the way inside and they breathe a sigh of genuine relief. hiding away in one of the many empty cubicles would have helped them avoid all this, but nazli is most comfortable when they’re perched on the corner of a marble countertop, and luna isn’t anything for them to fear. “you have impeccable timing, lovegood. anyone ever told you that ?”
“Maybe memory is all the home / you get.”
—
— John Murillo, from “Mercy, Mercy Me,” Kontemporary Amerikan Poetry
“Maybe memory is all the home / you get. And rage …”
Deep down we all want to bite someone hard as shit. Jaw power on 100% for like 5 to 8 seconds. Just once.
I tell my mother
don’t speak to me
like I’m already gone. don’t look at me like I’m already
an echo
of your eye.
— Kristin Chang, from “Intoxicated British Boy, 19, Kills Chinese Grandfather Visiting His Daughter,” published in HeArt
