#so many lily thoughts

[stillagoodwitch]

thinking about self-destructive lily who never knows where she has to stop not because she wants to have everything but because if she doesn't she'll cease to exist

[chococrystal]

Made for @ammo0648 's DTIYS !! Congrats !!

[eveningrainstorm]

not what they used to be

[elen-benfelen]

welsh remus guide pt.1

As a casual marauders fan (if such a thing exists lmao), I’ve noticed a growing love/interest towards Remus being Welsh and exploring what this means regarding accent, mannerisms and language. Seeing Welsh being butchered by the use of google translate, whilst understandable that people would turn to it, is actually physically painful at times. And so!! I’ve decided to start collecting some language tips and bits of info to help anyone who wants to Welshify their Remus. The source? My upbringing as a first language Welsh speaker in South-West Wales.

The most popular head canons I’ve seen, some based on scraps of info from canon, is that Remus is either South Walian (specifically South-East Wales - aka the Cardiff area) or North Walian. I’ve only lived in North Wales for just under a month so I have a rough idea of NW slang but I’m no expert. I have lived in Cardiff for about 3 years so I have a stronger grasp on broad South Walian slang.

This is to say - I will try and give words and bits of info I think would be useful to know but my ask box is always open to more specific questions. I’m also a nerd towards the Welsh language so this is going to be an unnecessarily deep dive into it.

First Lesson

Gogs - North Walians

Hwntws - South Walians

Gogs (short for Gogledd meaning North) and Hwntws have an age old rivalry. Our accents are very different and even our Welsh can have a huge variety of slang and accents.

Examples:

Milk - Llaeth (Hwntw) Llefrith (Gog)

Now - Nawr (H) Rwan (G)

Whilst plenty of Welsh folks have very English sounding accents, if someone has a distinctly Welsh accent you can usually tell pretty quickly where they’re from. Accents within the Welsh language itself tend to be rather strong and distinctive for most people. It is extremely common for someone to ask you where you’re from once they find out you speak Welsh. Probably cause Wales isn’t that big and only like 20% ish of us speak Welsh??? Idk. It just is a thing. So like:

“O, da chi’n siarad Cymraeg?” (Oh, you speak Welsh?)

“Ydw! Wyt ti o’r Gogledd?” (I do! Are you from the North?)

“Yndw, dwi o Gaernarfon. Ble yda chi’n byw?” (I do, I’m from Caernarfon. Where do you live?)

“Fi o Rhydaman.” (I’m from Ammanford.)

Hopefully that dialogue feels human and not like two robots talking but you get the gist of it lmao. So, for those of you who want to make another of the characters, such as Lily, Welsh as well, it wouldn’t be out of place for them to try and establish where the other is from when first meeting. But also be aware that their slang and language would be different if they’re not from the same area (as with any language or country).

Conclusion: You cannot slap the blanket label of Welsh on Remus and then have him speak any old welsh and use any slang and such. So either choose somewhere specific or throw a dart and stick with where it lands.

Note: I am not the collective consciousness of every Welsh person. My experience is not universal - especially when it comes to North Walian things. This is just meant to serve as a general guide. Hope this helps and good luck with your writing!

pt.2

[browngirl-inthering]

decade accurate marauders era wardrobes - lily evans

hair: long and auburn, often worn down and parted in the middle. styled with curtain bangs and two chin length pieces that frame her face.

clothes: consists of muted shades of brown, red, green, and yellow. waistcoats, fitted tops tucked neatly into trousers and skirts, turtleneck sweaters, dresses with short hemlines, and the occasional band tee. lots of plaids, suede, and buttons.

miniskirts were a popular but controversial item of clothing that have origins in 1960s london. prior to the 60s, it was completely unheard of for a skirt's hemline to ever be above the knee. however, during the course of the early to mid 60s young women in london began to wear their skirts shorter and shorter. as the miniskirt began to grow in popularity, it also gained negative attention as well with critics dubbing it as "mad" "vulgar" and "just awful". despite the heavy criticism, the miniskirt only continued to rise in popularity amongst women all over the globe, and with this played a key role in growing feminism and womens liberation movements. the miniskirt was comfortable, didn't restrict movement, and most importantly, allowed women to have autonomy over their bodies and how they wanted to present themselves. the history and meaning behind the miniskirt is why i feel lily would especially love miniskirts and still wear them despite the fact that they somewhat lost popularity in the 70s. she is a canonically brave and intelligent woman who stands firm in her opinions and isn't afraid to make them known. i believe she would have strongly identified in the feminist movements of the time and would wear miniskirts as a sort of her own personal protest.

i don't really see her as a big t-shirt wearer tbh. t-shirts were largely viewed as undergarments until t-shirt printing became easier and more accessible in the 60s and 70s which began the trend of graphic/slogan tees. she definitely loved abba and fleetwood mac though so they're the exception.

for some reason waistcoats are very lily to me. they came in all sorts of sizes and designs and i know she looked good in every one she had.

shoes: clogs, knee high lace up boots, and loafers. not much of a platform on them but still very 70s.

accessories: oversized square framed sunglasses, newsboy cap, headband scarf and a small purse.

THE one and only iconic lily evans cap™

she has an array of different colored and patterned scarfs that she uses to tie her hair back with.

[non-un-topo]

My Neekeys over the last two-odd years. I was curious to see the changes 🤔

[moonlightdancer26]

When you ship Snucius and Drarry but also love Severitus:

[mykelneedssleep]

I am redoing my annotations on trc and I cannot explain to you how important the initial description of Monmouth is to me and I’m going to explain that to you right now in great detail because that is what I do so strap in brothers

First off we learn that Monmouth was abandoned because whatever it created was “something that the world no longer needed.” Monmouth was abandoned because whatever was created inside of it was no longer needed but now it is inhabited by Richard Campbell Gansey III. Gansey is something that his friends and the world as a whole NEEDS. Monmouth Manufacturing is just another one of those things (like Noah) that is displaced to simply make room for Gansey and what he WILL do for other people and the world. The same way that Noah died so that Gansey could live, Monmouth shut down so that he would have a place to create everything that he does whether that is physical objects or simply a space for people. Monmouth is important to the entire gangsey because even if it isn’t where they live it is their home despite the fridge in the bathroom and the lack of habitable furniture

Secondly, “Gansey’s invented apartment was a dreamer’s laboratory.” Obviously that applies to Ronan, this is where he lives, where he creates, where he feels safe, as a dreamer but it also applies so fucking much to Gansey himself. Gansey has so many dreams both for himself and for his friends, he as a person just WANTS so much. There are books covering every surface and maps on the walls, telescopes and insomnia-fueled scaled down version of the town they live in. It is Gansey’s mind placed into a physical setting and a reflection of how much he craves everything around him. He wants to know about the ley lines, and Glendower, Cabeswater, and Ronan’s abilities, and anything he can get his hands on because he has such a deep seated need to know things. He dreams of what will happen when he finally does know these things and how the people around him will be affected by that. He dreams of what Ronan could do and the type of person he could become if he recovers from the trauma of his father’s murder, he dreams of Adam completing all his goals in life without the restrictions of money, of Blue doing whatever it is that she wants to do in life, and he dreams that he can be a part of all of these things. Ronan is a dreamer in the way that he can make things from his dreams real, but Gansey is a dreamer in the way that he so desperately wants his dreams to come true

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

FYI It's tacky to vote for an actress just because you haven't seen the movie. Only vote for someone you genuinely think wasn't as good as her. (Personally, I've only seen Poor Things and Barbie, and Emma Stone absolutely deserves her spot. So I'm voting option 6.)

[pinkestlittlebutterfly]

[I am terribly impatient to see Lust pair plot progression, and since the recent chapter has not given me any I have decided to be delusional and make my own; enjoy]

“I have never been loved even once in my life!” Lily yells. 

Misono can only stare, frozen. The man in front of him has no more gentle smiles and kind touches to offer, no more mocking grins and sharp words; this Lily is angry and bitter with something that might be grief. His face is contorted in a sharp-fanged grimace. His fingernails dig deeply into the hardened magic of their chairs. 

Misono has never heard him yell before. 

“The Alicein love you,” He hears himself say, and then “do they not?”

Lily laughs, brightly like the sound of shattering glass. 

“The Alicein love me no more than they’d love a pretty trinket,” He spits, “I’m nothing but their heirloom to pass to their sons and daughters. Do you think Mikage took me to those operas because he loved me so much? He only ever loved being admired for having such a pretty plaything. Mikado – Mikado tossed me aside like jewellery he thought too ugly to adorn himself with, scraps for his wife to pick at like everything else he no longer wanted! Mikuni has never seen me as more than my name, and you –”

Misono flinches, though Lily hasn’t moved from his seat. The man’s chest is heaving. His eyes are dry but his voice broke on the last word like Misono’s sometimes does when he’s about to cry. 

“You were the only one who ever came close to fooling me,” Lily whispers. “You were so kind to me. I didn’t even care when you yelled and threw books. I wanted you to love me so badly.” 

For a split second it’s too much and Lily’s face breaks and Misono sees anguish and pain and despair and thinks – he has seen this face before; at night, in the garden, when he screamed at Lily to never come near him again. 

“I’m not angry with you,” Lily says, “it’s my fault. You could never love me.” 

It feels like being ripped from a daze. Suddenly, Misono is angry. 

His Lily is hurting. What is he doing?

“So when all is said and done,” Lily continues, “you’d be foolish to think you could have changed anything. Do you understand, Misono? Nothing you can do could ever –”

“Shut up, Snow Lily!” Misono roars. 

He feels his power ripple through the remnants of their pact. For a moment, Lily’s voice fails him. For a moment, he looks triumphant.

“You are so fucking desperate to be unlovable it’s pathetic!” Misono yells. “You have never, for even a single god damn moment, stopped to consider that you’re just hurt and angry and too fucking stupid to see others’ feelings for what they are! You refuse to deal with your pain because you are a fucking coward, who spent all this time planning and scheming and still needs me to hate him to actually go through with it!” 

There’s a grim sense of satisfaction in wiping away that treacherous sense of triumph on Lily’s face, but he is not done yet. He draws another deep breath. 

“You cannot force me to fit into this fucking fantasy of yours! You cannot make me hate you!” 

He screams it with all his strength, even as he tastes blood in his throat. 

“I love you! I have always loved you and I always will! And you can hate this family and you can mock me all you want, but you will never change this!” 

[curi0uscreature]

* IM CURRENTLY LOSING MY MIND AT THIS I CANT DI THIS I CANT

[stillagoodwitch]

i'm just listening to you're losing me and thinking about james potter not a great night

[drowninginthoughts27]

Barty who got into this very pretentious university because his dad pulled some strings and Lily who got into the same uni for being a quite literal genius and they get into this toxic not quite dating tango sort of thing which end with them very aggressively making out in the corner of frat parties on multiple occasions (people are so confused but are too scared to comment/ask abt them)

[dearhaos]

the complete eri guidebook (2023) full version under the cut ♡ pdf ver. happy birthday @xiaojuun !! <3

credits. with the help of: meg (@hozierbyrne) // brina (@aquablues) // aléks (@possession1981) // vianey (@souladies) // lili (@ninqz) // aweks (@awek-s) // miha (@jaebeomtual) // rachel (@gnanii) // mare (@dongkwan) // ro (@sunghanbin) // rosie (@kimjiwoong) // lulu (@fushigojos) // sofi (@yukuz) graphics: gift boxes // broccoli // orange fruit watercolor // lip print textures // notion-style scribbles // healthcare vector icons // human anatomy icons // film cutouts pack // 3d travel icons // drinks vector icon set // coffee outline illustration pack // baby vector icon pack

[nogenrealldrama]

Lily Evans never quite feels like a lily.

[Petunia&Lily growing up - Microfic/fic excerpt - 362 words]

-------------------------

Lily Evans never quite feels like a lily.

Lilies are the flowers that guests sometimes bring to her mother’s dinner parties, stiff stems already cut and pre-arranged in the crinkly wrapper. Her mother slots them into a vase in the middle of their dining table and they linger for a week or two, their white petals never getting to unfurl in the sun or to sway in the wind.

Lily broke that vase once, while trying to make Tuney play the new version of catch that the Blythe boys had taught her. The lilies spilled all over the dining table, the water that soaked into the tablecloth smelling a little like a creek in high summer. Tuney scolded her right away for being careless. Later, their mother got back from the shops and scolded Tuney for the mess.

By the end of the week there is a new vase on the dining table, and by the end of the month it is again filled with lilies, pale and elegant and still like a wax sculpture.

-------------------------

Petunia Evans never quite feels like a petunia.

Petunias are the flowers that tumble down the windowsills of half the neighbourhood, their streaked and striped and spotted trumpets a confetti of every colour available in the newest gardening catalogues. In spring, she helps her mother carry trays of them from the market, little bundles of leaves that seem to know nothing of the tireless display that would soon be expected of them.

It was a thrill guessing which of the plug plants would produce the most outrageous colours, until Mrs Blythe mentioned that she finds petunias quite naff. Petunia wasn’t sure then what that meant, but next spring her mother comes back from the market with fuchsias and begonias instead. Petunia had never wanted to vie for the windowsill spot but now she retreats further, to the back bench in school and to the quiet obedience at the dinner table.

She tries to warn Lily, Lily who is still loud and bright and who plays with boys in the creek, but Lily never listens to her. And, as years pass by, Mrs Blythe never mentions that lilies are naff at all.

[lilacthebooklover]

pure vanilla cookie analysis- major CRK spoilers ahead!!

it must be so wild to find out that the power you earnt, the ability bestowed upon you for being pure and worthy, is nothing more than a fraction of everything you fight against. to watch the light of freedom be corrupted by the realisation your kind aren't meant to live, and see what should encourage peace be warped into a motive for destruction. to know that the devastation sent through the land is because you couldn't uphold your promise of keeping it all from going too far. to wait for the night of the crescent moon and attempt to fix it all, only to wind up with nothing more than a curse instead and nobody to blame but yourself. to be attacked in your homeland, to watch a war break out that you know is your fault, and to have the only way to stop it be to sacrifice your own power, the power you've used to bring together your world. to have it all taken away of your own volition in what should have been a final fight, to attempt to banish yourself and the one you love most for the good of all, to send away your people and your kingdom and everything you know. to try to isolate yourself for an eternity in a final, desperate act of sacrifice even though you know you cannot die. to expect that to be the end, only to go down in history as a legend and wander alone years later with no memory of your past and the last remnants of your soul appearing through your dreams. to wonder how you came to be, how you're still alive, then to remember it all and regain an identity that has lost its allure to your failures.

to be reminded of your mistakes by the harbingers of all that you oppose, to be easily incapacitated by reminders of how little purity you have left. to set out to reunite with others of your stature, your friends, to find those who share a common goal of protection, and find out just how deeply this power has corrupted their lives. to regain your strength and watch as the person who used to be your closest friend repeatedly pushes you away, insistent that you are but an obstacle she needs to be rid of, to find that same friend's soul split in two. to be a healer, to have the designated role of repairing and cleansing, only to struggle for a solution that will fix wounds that seem far too deep to close. to cause damage and harm and devastation despite wanting anything but, and see those who stayed steadfastly, fatally loyal to you fall at the hands of a monster you crafted. to search for the truth because you are the truth, you have been since you faced the trials and passed, and now it's up to you to find a way to fix this.

to learn that more of your own soul could be used to bring part of a loved, corrupted hero you have missed more than anything back, and to offer it up without hesitation regardless of the impact it could have on yourself. to be denied further sacrifice and see her return, only for her to push you away even now, desiring solitude rather than the solidarity you have been craving for years and years and years. to discover that your power is not your own, that it once belonged to another, that it was salvaged from corruption and destruction and illusions. to encompass light and purity and selflessness and leadership and truth, only to find out that you are nothing more than hastily purified deceit. to be selected as the one to stop the chaos and hatred, to have the fate of the world rest on your decisions.

to see the original wielder of your power be released and know that all you have is the result of another's descent into darkness. to see that your predecessor is a cookie and a beast all at once, to know that they are infinitely stronger than you and back in your world, among those you love. to be the parallel to a monster, the immovable object to an unstoppable force, to reflect deceit with a light of truth you can no longer truly trust. to discover your values are not inherently good, that they are born of the aftermath of evil, that you are simply a tiny fragment of unimaginable power where you used to be considered one of the strongest beings in existence. to see the cycle repeat in the one you care for most, and watch her blame herself for the horrors that have passed and the horrors to come, and wish you had prevented all of this while you still could. to see that your life is built on a throne of lies, and face off against a puppetmaster who shows undeniable, damning similarities to yourself, even down to his appearance. to be alone and yet not, to have power and know it has been corrupted before, to see what you have the potential to become if ever your soul begins to regress. to have back half of what you have so dearly missed, but at what cost? to know you must defend, must remain good, and try not to fall as the weight of your entire world settles heavily on your shoulders, because you are a protector, a ruler, a symbol, a hero, a healer, an embodiment of knowledge and greatness and power and truth, even as the very foundation of all you thought you knew continues to crumble bit by bit. wild.