Theme by maraudersmaps.
1,427 notes
31/08/14 @ 10:41pm
7,853 notes
@ 10:06pm

silvertonguedgod:

Top of head: Sibling affection/parental affection
Hair: Yearning
Ear: “I want you to hear me out.”
Nose: “You’re so cute.”
Cheek: “I want to tell you I love you.”/Deep affection/Devotion
Neck: Dislike/Hate/Disdain
Shoulder: Worry/Concern for other/Fear
Waist: Possessiveness/”You are mine.”
Over the heart: “I love you.”
Butt: Sexual attractiveness/lust
Hip: Interest
Back: Wanting to kill/will betray you one day
Stomach: Fun!/Silliness/”Wanna go cause some trouble?”
Forearm: Indifference/Don’t particularly care for
Biceps: Aggravation/Irritation/”You are an idiot.”
Fingers: Friendship/amicable
Wrist: Fear of losing you
Knee: “Don’t worry, I’m here for you.”
Chin: Beauty/attractiveness
Thigh: Sympathy/empathy
Calves: “I will cause you pain.”
Feet: “I will serve you forever.”/Deep devotion and and feelings of servitude/extreme fealty
0 notes
@ 08:50pm
tagged as
Driving Forces
"I live a life that is one big paradox. A life full of so many things I am so very ashamed of, but without them, I wouldn’t be me. A life, where, beyond the shadows, I see so much innocence and joy. I murdered that girl a thousand years ago, and I owe it to her, to the girl that will become, to make all of this worth it. And I promise you, little one, with all of my heart I am trying."
11,533 notes
@ 07:46pm
"She is not perfect. You are not perfect. The question is whether or not you are perfect for each other,"
Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting  (via feellng)
208 notes
30/08/14 @ 10:44pm
"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight and a half years ago."
Jane Austen, Persuasion. (via simplybookdrunk)
1,375 notes
29/08/14 @ 01:57am
via:askcecewells
source:pxntmercy

                                        but i look at you.
                                        i look at you, and god,
                                        constellations are bursting,
                                        fires are dying,
                                        silence is deafening,
                                        the whole damn world is terrifying - - -
                                        — — and im falling, god, i’m falling,
                                                i’m falling in love with you.

"

1. Chocolate is only a temporary fix.

2. A properly-fitting bra is not a luxury. It is a necessity.

3. Your happiness is your happiness and yours alone.

4. How to apply red lipstick.

5. How to wear the crap out of red lipstick.

6. A boyfriend does not validate your existence.

7. Eat the extra slice of pizza.

8. Wear what makes you feel gracefully at ease.

9. Love the world unconditionally.

10. Seek beauty in all things.

11. Buy your friends dinner when you can.

12. Wear sunscreen like it’s your second job.

13. Try with all your might to keep in contact with far-away friends.

14. Make the world feel at ease around you.

15. Walk with your head up.

16. Order a cheeseburger on the first date if you want to.

17. Never, ever bite your nails.

18. Swipe on some lipstick, put on your leather jacket, and sneak into a bar somewhere.

19. Learn from your mistakes that night.

20. Dental hygiene is not multiple choice.

21. Your GPA is not a confession of your character.

22. There is strength in breaking down.

23. You don’t have to like yoga.

24. Pick a tea.

25. Take care of your feet.

26. Pick a perfume.

27. Even if you’re tall, wear the heels anyway.

28. Classy is a relative term.

29. Drink whiskey if you like whiskey.

30. Drink wine if you like wine.

31. Like what you like.

32. Offer no explanation.

33. Advil and Gatorade.

34. You are no less of a woman when you’re in sweats and gym shoes than a woman in stilettos and a pencil skirt.

35. A woman is a woman is a woman.

36. Love your fellow woman with all your heart and soul.

37. Cry, uninhibited, with your friends.

38. Laugh until you can’t breathe with your friends.

39. Tell me everything.

40. Exercise to be strong and healthy. A beautiful soul needs a sturdy vessel.

41. There is no shame in hoping for love.

42. My cooking is the best cooking.

43. Do not take sex lightly.

44. I mean it.

45. Anna Karenina. I’d like it if you read it.

46. The world spins on the principle of inherent tragedy.

47. Do not be blind to it.

48. Men are effectively idiots until the age of 26.

49. Carbohydrates are not the enemy.

50. Involve yourself in an organized activity of your choosing.

51. Listen to classical music occasionally.

52. Take hot baths.

53. Do not use bath salts.

54. You are more than capable.

55. I promise.

56. Don’t smile if you don’t mean it.

57. Mean your anger. Mean your sadness. Mean your pain.

58. I am always, always listening.

59. Travel.

60. Get stuck in a foreign country with $4.67 in your account.

61. Make me furious.

62. Make me worry.

63. Come home smelly, tired, and with a good story.

64. Your story isn’t really yours.

65. You are a compilation of others’ stories.

66. Well-fitting and modest is ALWAYS sexier than too small and tight.

67. Who cares if glitter isn’t tasteful?

68. It’s too much eyeliner if you have to ask.

69. Learn to bake for when you’re sad and I’m not there.

70. Humility and subservience are not synonyms.

71. Wash your face twice per day.

72. Be gentle with your skin.

73. Science is really cool.

74. So is literature.

75. And history.

76. And math.

77. There is no substitute for fresh air.

78. Carry your weight.

79. Make up for it later if you can’t.

80. That salad is not better than pasta and it never will be.

81. You’re fooling no one.

82. Find at least three green vegetables you can tolerate.

83. A smoothie is not a meal.

84. Expect the best from everyone.

85. People will let you down.

86. Bask in the sun (wearing a sunhat and SPF 90).

87. There is a certain kind of man you need to avoid at all costs.

88. You’ll know it when you meet him.

89. What other people say is right doesn’t always feel right.

90. What feels right is where your happiness is.

91. Give thoughtful gifts.

92. Form an opinion.

93. Stick to it.

94. Exfoliation in moderation.

95. Argue with people when you need to.

96. If it’s worth fighting for, fight fiercely.

97. Don’t fight for acceptance.

98. You shouldn’t have to.

99. Take pictures, but not too many.

100. Follow your bliss at all costs. (I’m cutting you off at 22, though).

101. Chocolate ice cream, however, might just be a permanent fix.

"
10 notes
@ 02:29pm
tagged as
silvertonguedgod
"Father?" A young female voice breaks through the silence that usually permeates his study at this hour of the night. Now a blossoming teen, Frìgdis peers around the thick doorframe, oddly timid in his presence. "I know I am meant to be sleeping, but do you have a moment?"
Anonymous

silvertonguedgod:

asgardianskybird:

silvertonguedgod:

silvertonguedgod:

He lifts his head as the sound of his daughter’s voice draws him from his concentration, and he tilts his head in mild concern and nods in assent.

"Of course, sweetling. What troubles you at this late hour?"

And so it begins, Loki considers as his daughter laments her mother’s inability to understand her mind. These would be trying years, certainly — but he is determined to see them through with as much grace and as much dignity afforded his child as he is able to muster. 

He stands up from his chair once she has finished pleading with him and moves around his desk toward the study’s firepit and the few plush sofas set around it for reading (and sometimes sleeping, when the mood took him).  And he beckons her to follow him, gesturing for her to occupy one of the sofas as he takes the one across the hearth from her and leans forward with his forearms upon his legs and his fingers clasped just past his knees.

"It isn’t just in our skin, my daughter," he says quietly, "It isn’t just the thin layer beneath. It is in our veins, in our bones, and in our flesh. It is on our breath when we speak. It is in your eyes — and I suppose that it is also in mine, though that is a necessarily difficult assessment to make. That darkness is as much a part of us as our blood — and if ever the day comes when I can no longer recognize it in you, I shall no longer know either of us.”

"…Do you fear your darkness, daughter mine?” he continues gently, and regards her with soft curiosity and no hint of the anxiety and turmoil that burns in his stomach. “Or… otherwise dislike it? Or feel… inferior, or otherwise wrong because of it?”

She watches him as he moves, hesitating for a moment and then following as she is bidden. She’s never been one to openly ask for affection, but is times like these that the need to be touched burns deep within her skin. Still, to ask seems so childish, and so she simply sits, her body leaned back and arms crossed loosely across her middle as an unnoticed symbol of protection. Her eyes narrow when her father begins to speak, a spark of her mother’s ever present optimism battling against the heaviness of his words. “I do not know that it is that prevalent, father. Our gift in and of itself is not a weakness, nor is it something that damns us. But you are right to say that it…it is who I am, and I have come to understand that…well, understanding the nature of it is far more taxing that I would care to admit.”

She considers his question for a moment and then shakes her head. “No. Not truly. I am not foolish enough to pretend that there are not times that I resent it. Times that I feel lesser than as a result. But I see you, I see mother, and even Aidan. I see what we are capable of, and though his gifts are more like mother’s Aidan and I do share more similarities than differences, I think. Surprised as he may be to hear me admit that.” A ghost of a wry smile flutters across her lips before disappearing as quickly as it had come. “But I am not him, father. I don’t lose much sleep over what others want or think. My accountability has little to do with what their eyes perceive anyhow.” The strength in her words falters for a moment, and with a soft sigh, she stares deep into the fire.

“But I am tired, father. I am tired of being different because I don’t know how to view others. I don’t know how to not hate them sometimes because they’ll never know this burden. The truth of it is, in some ways I am glad for them. Not because I am ashamed of myself, but it is not the right gifting for everyone. But how do I look at someone who knows nothing of what it is like to have a human mother, to have a father that was once loathed-yes, I know the stories. They live even now-and I…there are these powers that you know I try so very hard to control. I don’t want to disappoint Mother and harm someone. I don’t want to disappoint you and not know how to make the most of them. I want to protect Aidan. I want so many things, and I know that supposedly this will all come in time, but what comfort is that to be for now?” She chuckles darkly. “I know I sound as though I am complaining, and that is not my intent, despite appearances to the contrary.” Her eyes wander up to his face, and in the light of the fire, the deep dark circles beneath hers are prominent. “What if I’m not right for this responsibility, father? What if, for once, I’m allowed to admit that I’m just a girl. I’m the girl Aidan looks up to, and who will always love and protect him so he doesn’t have to see things the way I do, but I’m not…” She trails off with frustration, the candles in the room flickering as an unseen pulse brushes past them. 

“How do you do it, father? How do you look at these people day after day, the ones who are nothing like you, and how do you pretend to care? Because I just…don’t anymore. I don’t feel for them. I don’t want to. And that’s why I can’t tell mother, because I’m not hers anymore. I think it would destroy her to hear me speak as such, and yet I won’t deny myself the freedom of finally admitting the truth. I just…don’t care.”

"Never mind him — I’m surprised to hear you admit that,” he says, and cracks a small half-grin. And then, as her ghost of a smile vanishes, so does his — not gradually as her sadness overtakes him, but pointedly as the conversation shifts. And he remains silent as she speaks, meeting her eyes with clear understanding, and pressing his lips together in the faintest of bitter smiles.

"There’s a very good reason for that, darling," he says gently as she makes her admission. And then he stands and moves around the fireplace to sit beside her on the sofa. "Look… I have had approximately six thousand years to come to terms with my own darkness, and I have grown to… if not love it, at least accept its validity as a central component of myself. I am glad that you have managed to do so in less time. But you are in the process of Becoming, and that in itself is exhausting, and leaves little energy to spare on loving others. And that’s alright, Frigdis. It truly is. You’re allowed to be selfish. You’re allowed to not care about anyone but yourself. As long as you would pull your drowning brother from a river or kiss your mother if she were weeping, it doesn’t matter that you cannot muster the strength to love them now.”

I am able to love them, incidentally, because it comes easily to me. I have already told you about the circumstances under which your mother and I met, and how desperately I needed her. It is possible for us to suffocate in our darkness, if it becomes too great and too overwhelming — and it was her light that pulled me to the surface. So I cannot help but love it, because it saved me. Your brother is my son — I do not need to pretend to love him just as much as I love you, because I cannot help but do so sincerely. Your uncle is an entirely more complicated subject, but… for many reasons I both love and hate his light, and always have. And probably always will. But apathy, my daughter, does not come into play because my passions run too deep. And I think…” He shifts where he sits in order to face her, and begins to run the tips of his fingers through the feathery locks of dark hair at her temples, regarding her with an understanding that seems almost pained.

"…That it is the same with you. I think you feel very deeply — just as I do — and it hurts you. And so you withdrew from it, but did not know when to stop. And now you cannot feel anything. And my girl… my darling girl… it’s alright. You are just a girl, and you ought to feel safe admitting it — Aidan looks up to you, of course, but he is also still just a boy. And you are my little girl, and your mother’s as well — grow though you do, and astonish us without even trying. And you don’t have a duty to us. You are under no obligation to impress us. You don’t have a responsibility — not to care for your brother (for that belongs to me and your mother, and to you only when you want it), nor to make me or your mother proud. You are responsible for caring for your pets, keeping your bedchamber tidy, and getting good marks in your lessons — and that is all.”

She looks down as he settles beside her, but her eyes quickly snap upwards as her father continues. “But I do love them!” She seems startled by the implication that she could do anything but, her head fervently shaking. “I have and always will love them. Because even though they are different, they are my family. Mother, much as she may struggle to understand what it is to be a ‘magical child’, truly does try her best to be there for me. And in some ways, as much as it makes me sad that she cannot relate, I am thankful that she is honest enough to tell me that she doesn’t. It doesn’t minimize the comfort that she does give me. And Aidan…well, yes, he is much quieter and much more gentle of spirit, but he is my brother. He is the only other person who knows what it is to have a human mother and you as our father. He is the only one that, when he sneaks into my room upset in the middle of the night, or to see if I am alright, that I open with welcome arms. Because there will come a day when he may not want me around, and as much as he annoys me from time to time, I value him all the same. It’s not them I struggle with, it’s everyone else besides us.” 

She looks away as he speaks of apathy and correctly identifies just what it is that seems to ail her so.  Her eyes close and she gives a sigh that speaks to her secret shame. “I still care. Under all of this. I know I do. But I have stopped myself from feeling it, because when I do, I get so upset with the stupidity and pointlessness of it all. I find myself needlessly angry with those around me, because they complain and cry foul for so many things that are irrelevant. And admitting that doesn’t make me feel better. It makes me angry with myself, because I should be more patient. I should be more kind. I shouldn’t be afraid to feel, because I am the daughter of an empath I know well that it is a strength and not a weakness. And yet…I don’t want to. I don’t want to anymore.” She looks at  her hands that curl in to small fists of aggravation and shakes her head at her father’s final words. “Perhaps in theory that is all, but you can’t deny that there’s so much more. I have…I have the responsibility to be something. To…to try and know what I’m doing. To show Aidan that we are safe and that he has no reason to fear his gifts as we both know he does. But how can I? How can I set an example when I am so lost myself?”

2 notes
@ 11:00pm
tagged as
zoealicelostariel
//genteelblackhole: "Well, you don’t see that everyday."
zoealicelostariel

"See, I used to say that, and then I married a chaos god, ended up in a foreign realm that was supposed to be imaginary by all earthly accounts, and well…yeah.” A bemused smile folds across her lips. “I suppose you might say my view of normal is fairly non-existent at this point.”

2,023 notes
@ 06:07pm
larygo:

colorizing challenge: Tom Hiddleston by Daivd Titlow (x)

larygo:

colorizing challenge: Tom Hiddleston by Daivd Titlow (x)

2 notes
25/08/14 @ 12:50am
tagged as
silvertonguedgod
>3<
silvertonguedgod

"I-oompf!" She lets out a soft sound of surprise as he sweeps her up into his arms, but just as eagerly leans into his kiss. It is so very rare that he allows himself to get so caught up like this that she can’t help but allow herself to enjoy the moment to the fullest extent.  As they part for want of air, she lets out a giggle and fondly combs a hand through his hair.

"Now, my love, not that I’m complaining…" She grins cheekily. "But what on Earth is this all about? Pray tell your beloved wife what has her husband so excited!"

10 notes
@ 12:24am
tagged as
silvertonguedgod
"Father?" A young female voice breaks through the silence that usually permeates his study at this hour of the night. Now a blossoming teen, Frìgdis peers around the thick doorframe, oddly timid in his presence. "I know I am meant to be sleeping, but do you have a moment?"
Anonymous

silvertonguedgod:

asgardianskybird:

silvertonguedgod:

He lifts his head as the sound of his daughter’s voice draws him from his concentration, and he tilts his head in mild concern and nods in assent.

"Of course, sweetling. What troubles you at this late hour?"

Slowly, she enters the den, though she seems hesitant to venture much further overall. Unlike her brother, Frigdis has never been particularly afraid of her father. The same can be said of this night, for it is not him that stalls her footsteps, but a much larger apprehension that seems to weigh heavy on her slender shoulders.

"I…contemplated asking mother, but she wouldn’t understand. She so rarely does these days." Her tone is soft, mournful even, and though her words could be construed as cutting, the quiet respect in them directed towards her mother says otherwise. Tired eyes move from the ground to his, a gentle pleading filling them.

"You have always been able to see me when she could not, because I think you and I understand this mutual darkness that seems to linger underneath our skin. Or, at the very least, are unafraid to acknowledge that it is there. And I…" She looks away and draws a long breath as she considers her next words.

"Father, I am asking you to see me in such a way now, because I find myself coming to the conclusion that you’re the only one that can.”

And so it begins, Loki considers as his daughter laments her mother’s inability to understand her mind. These would be trying years, certainly — but he is determined to see them through with as much grace and as much dignity afforded his child as he is able to muster. 

He stands up from his chair once she has finished pleading with him and moves around his desk toward the study’s firepit and the few plush sofas set around it for reading (and sometimes sleeping, when the mood took him).  And he beckons her to follow him, gesturing for her to occupy one of the sofas as he takes the one across the hearth from her and leans forward with his forearms upon his legs and his fingers clasped just past his knees.

"It isn’t just in our skin, my daughter," he says quietly, "It isn’t just the thin layer beneath. It is in our veins, in our bones, and in our flesh. It is on our breath when we speak. It is in your eyes — and I suppose that it is also in mine, though that is a necessarily difficult assessment to make. That darkness is as much a part of us as our blood — and if ever the day comes when I can no longer recognize it in you, I shall no longer know either of us.”

"…Do you fear your darkness, daughter mine?” he continues gently, and regards her with soft curiosity and no hint of the anxiety and turmoil that burns in his stomach. “Or… otherwise dislike it? Or feel… inferior, or otherwise wrong because of it?”

She watches him as he moves, hesitating for a moment and then following as she is bidden. She’s never been one to openly ask for affection, but is times like these that the need to be touched burns deep within her skin. Still, to ask seems so childish, and so she simply sits, her body leaned back and arms crossed loosely across her middle as an unnoticed symbol of protection. Her eyes narrow when her father begins to speak, a spark of her mother’s ever present optimism battling against the heaviness of his words. “I do not know that it is that prevalent, father. Our gift in and of itself is not a weakness, nor is it something that damns us. But you are right to say that it…it is who I am, and I have come to understand that…well, understanding the nature of it is far more taxing that I would care to admit.”

She considers his question for a moment and then shakes her head. “No. Not truly. I am not foolish enough to pretend that there are not times that I resent it. Times that I feel lesser than as a result. But I see you, I see mother, and even Aidan. I see what we are capable of, and though his gifts are more like mother’s Aidan and I do share more similarities than differences, I think. Surprised as he may be to hear me admit that.” A ghost of a wry smile flutters across her lips before disappearing as quickly as it had come. “But I am not him, father. I don’t lose much sleep over what others want or think. My accountability has little to do with what their eyes perceive anyhow.” The strength in her words falters for a moment, and with a soft sigh, she stares deep into the fire.

“But I am tired, father. I am tired of being different because I don’t know how to view others. I don’t know how to not hate them sometimes because they’ll never know this burden. The truth of it is, in some ways I am glad for them. Not because I am ashamed of myself, but it is not the right gifting for everyone. But how do I look at someone who knows nothing of what it is like to have a human mother, to have a father that was once loathed-yes, I know the stories. They live even now-and I…there are these powers that you know I try so very hard to control. I don’t want to disappoint Mother and harm someone. I don’t want to disappoint you and not know how to make the most of them. I want to protect Aidan. I want so many things, and I know that supposedly this will all come in time, but what comfort is that to be for now?” She chuckles darkly. “I know I sound as though I am complaining, and that is not my intent, despite appearances to the contrary.” Her eyes wander up to his face, and in the light of the fire, the deep dark circles beneath hers are prominent. “What if I’m not right for this responsibility, father? What if, for once, I’m allowed to admit that I’m just a girl. I’m the girl Aidan looks up to, and who will always love and protect him so he doesn’t have to see things the way I do, but I’m not…” She trails off with frustration, the candles in the room flickering as an unseen pulse brushes past them. 

“How do you do it, father? How do you look at these people day after day, the ones who are nothing like you, and how do you pretend to care? Because I just…don’t anymore. I don’t feel for them. I don’t want to. And that’s why I can’t tell mother, because I’m not hers anymore. I think it would destroy her to hear me speak as such, and yet I won’t deny myself the freedom of finally admitting the truth. I just…don’t care.”