05/07 - 05/08/2022

V pose 2/9

Okay but imagine instead of cucked V, it's a mildly sadistic (for art!) V, who won't let mc leave and destroy herself like Rika! Still bad end but hey I love him lol

Pose used under the cut

All About Love, bell hooks | Snow and Dirty Rain, Richard Siken

"[villain] acting like this is unrealistic/extreme :/" my brother in christ. abus3rs exist in real life.

And so nothing is ever lost. People do return to you, you live with them inside you until a few years later they are back with you again.

Etty Hillesum, from a diary entry featured in An Interrupted Life: the Diaries, 1941-1943 and Letters from Westerbork (translated from the Dutch by Arnold J. Pomerans)

Past a certain point, you stop being able to go home. At this point, when you have got this far from where you were from, the thread snaps. The narrative breaks. And you are forced, pastless, motherless, selfless, to invent yourself anew.

The Four Generations of Chang E - Zen Cho

I am still ashamed of myself, afraid to let myself go, to let things pour out of me; I am dreadfully inhibited, and that is because I have not yet learned to accept myself as I am.

Etty Hillesum, from a diary entry featured in An Interrupted Life: the Diaries, 1941-1943 and Letters from Westerbork (translated from the Dutch by Arnold J. Pomerans)

Sue Zhao

knowing what’s good and having good taste can be so bad for our confidence… when we start posting art or writing on the internet when we are like fifteen, we have no idea but still have fun and think we are doing the most amazing thing. shout out to all grown ups who’s finally putting art out there for the first time. It’s so so brave.

anyone else watching jeopardy rn i jumped

hari kunzru

Thomas Edwin Mostyn (English, 1864 – 1930)

Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

[Text ID: I've forgotten, I've forgotten everything, and I don't want to remember,]

from G.B. Lamperti's Vocal Wisdom

here’s a quiz i made: allow me to assign you a beloved character trope.

7 results: femme fatale, queen, prophet, poet, witch, gentleman thief, and otherworldly spirit in human form. enjoy ✩

the way you said i love you | #12: when we lay together on fresh spring grass

Jihyun x reader. Tooth-rotting fluffiness, loads of love, and two people who have come a long way in learning to love themselves and each other.

Jihyun’s favorite time of year is late spring. There are a million and one reasons why, but his favorite reason is because it’s when he came home to you, after two years of soul searching, of healing, of becoming a man worthy of your love. You tell him often that he was worthy before he went away, but he insists that he wanted to change and become someone better, someone you could be proud of. 

He’s different when he comes home. There’s a confidence about him that you don’t recognize, and it thrills you and terrifies you in the same breath. He stands taller, he smiles easier. The pallor of his skin has been replaced with a ruddiness that makes him somehow look younger and more mature at the same time. You ask him often how he did it. How he changed and became the man he is today, lying in the grass beside you, with strong arms and an even stronger will.

“I thought of all the things I’d done and all the ways I had betrayed myself,” he says quietly. His hand cards delicately through your hair, and he gazes at your face with tender fondness. “I didn’t want to continue the path I’d been traveling, so I turned in a different direction. I spent time with my journal and the scenery. My camera, too. Every thought I had that threatened to bring me down, I’d chase it away with the sun, a photograph, or a thought of you.” You don’t see it, but his face feels hot and turns a little more red under the warm, early spring sun. “I did a lot of things wrong for a long time. I was tired of running from it. I’d dug myself into a deep hole of despair and I feared there wouldn’t be a way out if I didn’t stop.” He cups your cheek in his hand and turns you to face him. Your own fingers circle his wrist and you lean so that your forehead is touching his. “You saved me, you know.”

You smile, embarrassed, not wanting to take the credit for his salvation. “You saved yourself, Jihyun. You did the work. I just sat here and waited for you.”

“But without you, I wouldn’t have had the strength. Those early days? When you stood by me and nursed my brokenness…” Oh, his smile is brilliant now. His other hand tugs you closer at the hip while a songbird flutters overhead, providing a soundtrack on the gentle breeze that blows through the meadow where you lie. “When you were gentle and kind but so firm and steadfast? You inspired me. You lit a fire in me, my dearest.” He kisses you then– lips soft as silk, pliable and warm– and his hand drifts to the back of your neck. “You gave me a reason to get better.”

“You could have done it without me,” you say, still denying any sort of responsibility. “You’re strong enough. I was just there for moral support. To pine for you until you decided to return.” You giggle and kiss him again. He tastes like the breeze– heady and warm, as intoxicating as ever. 

“I love you.” He’s said it before. A handful of times at best, mostly during moments when you’re alone, when his heart swells and he thinks you couldn’t possibly be any more lovely and perfect. He says it when you’re chopping onions in the kitchen and your eyes well with tears from the stench. He says it when you lie down in the evening to rest after a long day of work. But this time, it feels more robust somehow, like he’s fully realizing the depth of his love for you. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He repeats it over and over again and covers your face in playful kisses until you’re both giggling like crazy. There’s grass in your hair, stuck to the back of your light cotton t-shirt when he rolls on top of you to quiet your giggles into something more serious, but you couldn’t care less.

You love him back, just the same.

creating stuff out of love isnt doing it for me anymore i think i need to be one of those people who makes art out of spite