#anousagi

𝐈𝐓  𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐇𝐄  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓  𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊     ,       wei  wuxian  could     ,       of  course     ,       but  his  cooking  wasn’t  like  shijie’s     ,       that’s for sure.  so       ,       what  was  exactly going  wrong  with  this  recipe    ?   it  tasted  burnt     ,       but  he  swore  he  took  it  off  the  fire  before  it  could.    ❛   ugh   !     ❜   he  spits  as  he  tastes  it  once  more     ,       rechecking  to  make  sure  he   didn’t  mis -  taste  the  soup.   it  was  indeed  bitter     ,       so  bitter  that  you  couldn’t  even  taste  the  radishes   !   wen  qing  was  going  to  kill  him  on  the  spot  when  she  finds  out     ,       he  just  knew   it.   that’s  what  he  gets  for  being  persistent  on  cooking     ,       he  supposes.   ❛   what  am  i  going  to  do   ?   !     ❜   he  cries     ,       frustrated.     -     (   @anousagi​  )

❝  so many indulge in what could be,  rather than what is.  ❞  slowly,  gilded eyes drift across where her finger and thumb smooth over petals of pale pinks and vibrant oranges. 

❝  there you are …   ❞   her voice flies lighter than before,  drifting along,  yet caught all around.   ❝  …   i see you are practicing still.   ❞

disney’s treasure planet … sentence starters [accepting] [x]

@anousagi​ said:  “Playing games… are we?“

“Hey, not my fault that you can’t have fun with your cushy goddess job. I thought okaa-san taught you that being a deity doesn’t mean anything when it comes to playing pranks?” The shifter grins, her arms currently holding what seems like hundred radishes. Clearly, with how Muishikai’s mother is fuming in the background, the veggies had come from her garden.

Robin had gone in wolf form and had a bet with Muishikai and his dog. You had to dig up all of them in a time limit without getting whacked by his mama. Somehow, the wolf had managed.

Recordings of Me Reading Bits of my Fav Threads | status: open

her embrace is lilac sweet,  a brush of honeysuckle made sun-ripe beneath the summers gaze. such a small thing yet given time, what wonderful blooms will burgeon from below the ground, what sweet fruits flush in light will grow. her touch is of a daughter’s love, and in return, the all-mother grants her everything. what is a mother’s love if it is not everything? whole. small. big. vast like the ocean and the sea-spray cresting upon rocks, upon hands and shoulders. a complete embrace ; revolving around the sea and sky. the moment of infinity captured in mere seconds.