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#romanticizing the mundane

totally-sapphic-posts · 1 month

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Getting done at the same time. One of you in the shower, one brushing your teeth, and the cute little smile you give each other when you meet each other’s eyes

#romanticizing the mundane #post #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #wlw blog #sapphic blog #lesbian blog #nblw blog #nblw #wlw pride #wlw post

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thesexiestselkie · 1 year

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Unknown // Erika Lee Sears // Jeremy Miranda // Gary Soto // Leno Rivo // fridaysvalentine

#web weaving #romanticizing the mundane #art #words

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harlequinhovers · 9 months

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i love doing laundry i love stuffing my clothes into a machine i love the little ding-a-ling my machine does when my clothes are done i love when my clothes are done in the dryer and they’re so warm i love when they smell good i love sorting my clothes into categories to put away i love clean clothes

#im such a laundrypilled clothescel #they smell like lavender bc my scent boosters are lavender #i love listening to my vinyls while i sort my clothes #life is good #romanticizing the mundane

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petscoboba · 9 months

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I know this AU has since died down, but recently it's really been helping me look on the bright, fun side of college, so I decided to draw @spectacledraws's (go check her out!!!) Deltarune college au as if it were a fake manga (heavily inspired by the Yotsuba comics)!

For those curious what the title means (which I hope I didn't royally mess up the Japanese on):

別の伝説 (betsu no densetsu) - Another Legend

DELTARUNEの二次創作 (Deltarune no nijisousaku) - A DELTARUNE side-story

#deltarune #college au #gaster #asriel dreemurr #chara dreemurr #wooo! finally done!#i'm a bit hesitant to tag sprout #i realize sometimes when people's aus get popular they can sometimes get pressured into only doing that #but i hope it wont be taken that way! i just really. really adore this au #it helps to romanticize the mundane but goofy nature of college #and it helps me calm my nerves juuussstt a little bit for when i move out to finish my degree #anyways! enough rambling about me!! i want to add that i changed azzy's design ever so slightly to match the hidden sprite found in #the deltarune files (i added glasses. i added glasses.)#and i mayhaps made him hold certain things to imply there's something more going on with the golden boy....?#who knows! only he does. hopefully. maybe not.

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super-nova5045 · 9 days

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sylvia plath, todd anderson and virginia woolf (aka ACTUAL tortured poets) watching taylor “im breaking up with my boyfriend for his intense depression and blaming it on him, im dating a racist who enjoys watching woc being brutalized and harasses young woc artists, i sent my fans out on a hate train to attack a young woc actress for a line she had to say as part of her job to show how mentally ill her character was, im dating a maga supporter, i refuse to say anything about a current genocide despite being the most influential person in the world right now, i am a billionaire, i fly 13 minute flights and have the highest carbon emission of any celebrity, i am a known white feminist who only speaks about issues when it affects me and has constantly let my fans get away with extreme racism and even encouraged it by associating myself with known racists” swift call herself a tortured poet (her writing sounds like a bunch of thesaurus words slapped over gabba hanna and rupi kaur-esque poetry that was created purely as a trinket for an edgy pinterest board)

#anti taylor swift #like she can be problematic that’s okay #there are SO many problematic artists i like #but she’s not even that good #like read sylvia plath or virginia woolf or listen to LDR or fiona apple or mitski or lorde or boygenius or olivia rodrigo #aka her peers #and realise how much better they are #they truly write art because they have a compassion and rawness for it #whereas taytay only writes to get more money LOL #she’s so extremely privileged that her life is not at all relatable and now she tries to make it so #by romanticizing the most mundane #thats never been your brand babe now it’s going to sound like dogshit #GUTS by olivia rodrigo is better because it has such an intensity to it. liv means what she says and you can feel it!#fiona apple means what she says when she writes about begging her lover to love her back!#mitski means what she says when she writes that she is self destructive and puts herself in bad situations since that’s all she knows!#lana means what she says when she writes about her suicide attempt at 15 because of constant abuse from her mother and crippling depression #all of it such haunting and beautiful works because it truly comes from the soul and isn’t a cash grab #Anyway i’m so sorry virginia and sylvia and todd #todd anderson #AND JOE ALWYN #joe alwyn my favourite man ever #joe alwyn #dead poets society #anderperry #sylvia plath #virginia woolf #the bell jar #lana del rey #fiona apple #mitski

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moonieisa · 29 days

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not now babe .. me and the mutuals are trying to find beauty in the mundane

#beauty in mundane #mundane #mundane activities #romanticism

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rovetrade · 3 months

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the average joeysong is about like killing yourself and dying 100 times and the average cook song is just like man i fucking love [item]

#this is really reductive i do love cook’s tendency to romanticize the mundanity of life #like yes girl tell me about that tequila highball #kglw

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corpsepng · 4 months

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Love it when the paperback book is soooo loose and well loved that it flops open wide and easy for you. Spread and prone and wanting. Slutty and soaked with story, begging to be read….

#I will never stop sexualizing the mundane #romanticize poeticize sexualize cannibalize etc

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zabiume · 9 months

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mountains and molehills | ao3

Kazui comes home for the summer, and then spends most of it on the couch with his face buried in the pillow. The news says it's the hottest summer they’ve had in years, but the news is always saying that and Kazui is anxious.

“Honey,” his mother calls over her shoulder, “Have you seen my phone?”

“Check the couch!” his father calls back from somewhere within the depths of their apartment.

Kazui hears his mother approach, and then she’s jostling him around, checking between cushions. “I don’t see—” she raises her voice, but then her fingers catch on something, so she amends it with, “Found it!” When Kazui cracks an eye open, he sees her pushing her phone into her work bag and then sliding a strap over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m off to work.” She leans down and kisses Kazui on the head. “Make sure you eat, okay? I’ll be back by 7.”

Kazui makes a noise of acknowledgement. His mother calls a goodbye to his father and then leaves. At noon, his father will come out of his office (which is what they call the guest-room when guests are here, and the store-room when they need something to store), and make lunch. They’ll eat. They’ll kill time until 7, after which Dad will pick Mom up from the bakery and they’ll eat dinner. Mom will probably put on a show, and Kazui will probably talk over it the whole time and Dad will probably shush them both because he’s reading on his e-reader that Mom got him for his birthday a few years ago. He could leave the room, but he won’t. He never does.

He could do so many things, but he doesn’t. He never does.

When Kazui was little — little enough for a piggyback ride — his dad would take him on patrol sometimes, the only time that Kazui got a glimpse of this whole other world his dad belonged to. Most days, Kurosaki Ichigo was the guy who tied his laces, and helped him do his homework and hugged him when he was sad or scared. But every so often they’d run into a shinigami and his father — only mere moments ago his father — would become the thing of fables, a living legend. He never gave autographs, and hated selfies on principle unless Kazui’s mom was taking one, but the bottom line was that, in a whole other world, his dad was kind of famous.

You can never tell it just by looking at him. Not in the form where he wears shorts and flip-flops and reading glasses at least. In that form, he does things like grocery shopping and fixing the bidet and he always looks content, present. Kazui often hears other kids talk about their dads—their unfulfilled baseball careers that they traded for desk jobs, their marriages that are teetering towards divorces, the drama of their lives that make his own parents' lives look relatively plain. Kazui loves them to death, but they’re so normal, with their normal jobs and their simple marriage. The most romantic thing he remembers his dad ever doing is taking his mom out to lunch on a work day every now and then — a far cry from grand anniversaries and moonlit confessions.

Kazui wonders if there's some secret sadness, some interiority that his father is hiding where one day he'll declare he's taking a long vacation to Yokohama and never coming back and everyone will say they never saw it coming.

(Once he even asked his parents if they ever had a time where they considered splitting up, and they just looked surprised.

"We can't afford a divorce even if we wanted one, so everyone better get along," his dad said eventually, and his mom rolled her eyes in that fond, chastising way she did whenever Dad made a joke in that dry, sarcastic tone).

Kazui can’t relate to that contentment. Kazui is restless. Nineteen years of existence and he still hasn’t found a purpose, a drive, a push to live up to his name and his legacy. Somehow, it seems like every big thing that had to happen has already happened. All he has to do is live with the consequences.

Once, when Ichika visited him at college, she asked, “Literally what do you do all day,” inspecting his dorm with vacant, skeptical curiosity.

“I do things!” Kazui protested in response, not wanting her to know the exact depth with which she’d cut into his deepest insecurities.

Sometimes Kazui envies the structure in Ichika’s life, envies the fact that she has something to work towards. Most days, his zanpakuto won't even talk to him, haughty that he doesn't have all the answers yet. More than anything, he's terrified that in some way, somehow, he'll look back at the life he lived — this ephemeral life — and be ashamed of how little he made of it.

At noon, Dad comes out and asks him to help wash the vegetables. Standing together, side by side, Kazui can’t help but stare at his dad’s clean hands, unscarred — no doubt thanks to his mom. Can a history be forgotten so easily?

“You’re quiet today,” Ichigo remarks, his hands slicing the radishes down unevenly across the cutting board. It’s the kind of imprecision that would grate his mother’s nerves — perhaps the only thing they argue about frequently within Kazui’s earshot.

“Yeah,” Kazui says sheepishly, his throat tight. He has no reason to cry, but for a sudden, embarrassing moment, he thinks he just might.

Ichigo pats his shoulder and moves past Kazui towards the condiment section. “Something you wanna talk about?” he calls over his shoulder.

Kazui bites his lip. Then, "Do you have any regrets, Dad?"

"Regrets?" Ichigo echoes, looking confused when he returns to the counter. "Like…?"

"The big ones, y'know. Ones that keep you up at night."

"Something's been keeping you up at night?"

Kazui winces because his dad sounds like he wants to kill it. Sheesh.

"Daaad," Kazui whines. "Can we not focus on me now? I really don't want to focus on me."

Ichigo chuckles. "Alright. So, regrets. Elaborate."

Use your words, Kazui remembers his parents saying, when he was young and struggling with a tantrum. He hasn't always been an easy kid. He knows he's the reason why his parents never had another one.

"You're so...normal," Kazui croaks and then frowns, glancing at his father for a reaction to his words.

To his surprise, Ichigo just looks amused as he sprinkles salt over the vegetables. "That's not a good thing?"

"No, it is, I mean. You know what I mean. You're just.” Kazui takes a breath. “Give me a moment?"

"Hm." Under the slanting light of their kitchen, his dad looks content to just wait, biding time as he stuffs everything into the cooker. Not for the first time, his infinite patience makes Kazui feel a lot smaller than he is. A lot younger.

"I guess I just want to know if you're happy," Kazui admits at last, embarrassingly feeble. "W-with us."

"I'm happy, Kazui," Ichigo says calmly – not strongly, not insistently, not even with a sharp, defensive edge. He says it with the quiet, resounding clarity of the truth. When he looks over at Kazui, his eyes are kind. The understanding in them makes Kazui feel embarrassed, but a secret part of him feels relieved for having had the courage to ask.

He pretends to wipe a line of lint off the granite. "Were you ever tempted to go there? To be a part of them, I mean."

"I am a part of them," Ichigo says thoughtfully, "or at least, they are a part of me. But they're just that, y'know. A part."

"An important one."

"Sure."

"But not - not the important one–?"

"Kazui," Ichigo says gently, and Kazui stops. "I'm not going to leave you, I promise."

"It's not that!" His father looks unconvinced. "I swear, it's not, I — don't you ever feel like you should be doing something else?!" Kazui blurts, and as he’s saying it he knows he’s projecting, but he can't stop. "Something bigger?!”

Ichigo grows quiet. For some small, irrational reason, Kazui feels afraid that his own unraveling would somehow trigger his dad’s, which is utterly ridiculous the more he thinks about it. Ichigo has been alive a lot longer than he has; Kazui’s sure the thought must have come up at one time or another.

"I did all that,” Ichigo says slowly, “And then I came home."

Kazui slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Something more profound, perhaps. Something his father had learned that only he could have learned through the wisdom of experience.

"Easy as that?" he asks, a little glumly.

Ichigo shakes his head. "Nothing about this life ever came easy. We had to choose it. We knew the risks, your mother and I, but we chose it anyway and hoped to hell our hearts would be strong enough to carry us through."

"And you think it paid off?"

Ichigo looks at Kazui, his gaze warm, filled with pride and love and affection. "I'd say it did."

Kazui is embarrassed. "Dad."

Ichigo reaches out and ruffles his hair, content to rest his wrist on Kazui's shoulder. "What's all this about anyway? What’s gotten into you?”

"I don't know," Kazui mumbles, a little bit of that earlier anxiety creeping in, making his throat hurt with all the feelings he was swallowing. "Existential angst?"

Ichigo chuckles humorlessly, like he could relate. "Yeah."

"How do you even deal with something like that?"

"I don't want to tell you life is short—"

Kazui snorts.

"— but it is." Ichigo looks at him and smiles. "You don’t know how long you’re going to be here, or how soon it’ll take away the thing you thought you’d have forever.” Kazui averts his gaze. Dad never talks about Grandma often, but when he does it's always so wistful — so accepting.

"Forever isn't always a good thing, you know. There's guys in Soul Society who've lived so long…" Ichigo trails off. "You lose perspective. You lose sight of things that matter."

“Yeah,” Kazui mumbles.

“Death, after. Those things will come with time. There’s no need to rush to them just yet.” Ichigo smacks Kazui’s head lightly, making Kazui laugh a little. Then, “There was this thing my dad told me once.”

“Grandpa?” Kazui asks incredulously. “Like—goofy, silly…”

“Yeah, that guy.” Ichigo snorts. “He told me once that the only thing he wanted for me was to live well, age well and bald well. And when I died, he wanted me to die smiling.”

Kazui absorbs that information. “You listened to him?”

Ichigo scoffs. “Heck, no. I threw myself into all the shit I could — you know that.”

Kazui laughs. “Yeah.”

“But I turned out okay,” Ichigo says firmly. “And you will, too.” When his fingers land against Kazui’s cheek, they’re gentle, grounding. “You’re a good kid. Don’t sweat the little stuff so much.”

Kazui smiles and accepts his dad’s hug, burying his head in his shoulder.

Later, after his mother comes home from work, they eat leftovers from lunch and dress down to their pajamas. Mom puts on a variety show and Kazui squeezes himself onto the loveseat with her, his legs in her lap. On screen, the host bullies the contestants into answering some way-too-personal questions to the joy of a bloodthirsty audience.

“Is that the guy—” Mom snaps her fingers.

“The pilot from Good Luck?” Kazui prompts. “Yeah, I thought so too for a second. It’s the sideburns.”

Orihime gasps. “You’re right!” She turns her gaze to Kazui and gives his ankle a loving squeeze. “Clever boy.”

Kazui beams.

“Can’t you guys keep it down?” Ichigo grumbles without looking up from his e-reader. "I'm trying to read."

He could go inside, but he doesn’t. He never does. Kazui is finally starting to kind of get it.

#inspired by the poem 'openings' by andrea cohen!#the ao3 version of this has the full poem for your reading pleasure if you want #kazui kurosaki #ichigo kurosaki #myfic #will i ever stop romanticizing the bittersweetness of mundane life? maybe. but today is not that day!

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ohhnohhh · 7 months

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9.30.23

Maybe my power is to move in silence. Maybe I am protecting my energy by yielding it to create and alchemize something valuable.

#mine #personal #thoughts #aesthetic #plant mom #morning tea #dieffenbachia #peperomia argyreia #green tea #romanticizing the mundane #simplicity #appreciate the small things #silence #alchemy #protect your energy

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cursed-and-haunted · 5 months

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stumbled upon a blog of someone who clearly lives in or near my hometown and are posting pictures of places and calling them abandoned and me and my best friend are like??? that place isn't abandoned.. we've been there we know who lives/works there??? it's so bizarre. my friend said it was like someone broke into her house and told her she was dead lol

#the blog has like a creepy southern gothic aesthetics going on #and are probably making things up to fit into that aesthetics #so weird #so weird seeing my mundane hometown being romanticized like that #very perturbed by this #mine

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cookinguptales · 9 months

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not me wanting to write fic about nandor asking guillermo to come with him on his walks that he takes for his mental and his physical health

#why do I always just wanna write weirdly intimate fic about tiny moments why am I like this #help I'm romanticizing the mundane #writing liveblogging #wwdits spoilers #wwdits tag

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sailermoon · 4 months

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this sounds batshit but after living in the suburbs my whole life I daydream about things like a corner store and laundromat and public transport like that’s my ideal life and I can’t explain why

#maybe I’m just romanticizing the mundane #I just like walking man

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