• favorite • it's a wonderful life • george bailey i'll love you til the day I die • gifs • love and tenderness
this is the most romantic thing i’ve seen all day
No shit. That tom cat was like:
"This thorn invested wall means nothing."
"I will gladly walk on it a thousand times over, if that means I could be with you, my lady."
and the lady cat was all:
"My brave darling."
OOOPS MY HAND SLIPPED!!
Suddenly my muse insisted me to draw the personification version of the last pic, and who am I to reject inspiration when it comes so willingly to me? At least this will help with the artblock issue I currently have to deal with.
Russian imperial era inspired because hot damn.
Note: I tried google reverse image (and other reverse image search engines) those photos and came up with nothing. I wish I knew the original photographer because I want to love hug him/her so hard for capturing such inspiring moments.
OMG that’s the cutest thing ever and the best courtly love ah so brilliant.
Lord knows I would.
fightinghelping evil: the lovers
i need you, i breathe you, i never leave you
they would rue the day i was alone without you
-off to the races, lana del rey
(they don’t see “good” versus “evil”. all they see is their demon lover: soft skin covered with scales, fur, claws. they turn their backs on their families, their friends, their fellow humans. all they want is to be happy with their lover, and they will destroy anyone who comes between them. they will not only love the underworld, they will rule it.)
• mmmm • love and tenderness • sort of • love and heartbreak • maestro • I finally read this book a couple of months ago • words words words • deathless
I think maybe that we see each other the same way someone once told me we all see colors. We see what someone else identified people as. Or at least described them that way. You know how the green you see may actually be red, or the way the sunset looks to you, with pinks and purples with orange may be your green, blues and yellows to someone who is standing right next to you.
I think I stare at you like a grey, a deep angry grey and someone else sees you as a mellow calm blue. You see me as a burgundy, but I see myself as a flushed blushy pink. But there is someone who sees me as a red. A deep irresistible red, with hints of that blushy pink I see myself, but with a shocking scarlet that stings and burns.
We all may think we burn red to everyone, or maybe like a robin’s egg blue, but really, there is someone out there that sees you as a licking hot flame.
We all just cross our fingers we see them as a searing red as well. Because I could have you and the next thing I know, together we make a mucky brownish green.
• what an interesting way to think about this • people are just people; they shouldn't make you nervous • emotional synasthesia • you are a whole host of greys and blacks; shot through with silver and gold • words words words • love and tenderness
The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon was rising among them,
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them
As the moon’s soft splendour
O’er the faint cold starlight of Heaven
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had then given
The stars will awaken,
Though the moon sleep a full hour later
No leaf will be shaken
Whilst the dews of your melody scatter
Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
To Jane, Percy Bysshe Shelley
(The last stanza always reminds me of Erik and Christine.)
We don’t give other people credit for the same interior complexity we take for granted in ourselves, the same capacity for holding contradictory feelings in balance, for complexly alloyed affections, for bottomless generosity of heart and petty, capricious malice. We can’t believe that anyone could be unkind to us and still be genuinely fond of us, although we do it all the time.
Years ago a friend of mine had a dream about a strange invention; a staircase you could descend deep underground, in which you heard recordings of all the things anyone had ever said about you, both good and bad. The catch was, you had to pass through all the worst things people had said before you could get to the highest compliments at the very bottom. There is no way I would ever make it more than two and a half steps down such a staircase, but I understand its terrible logic: if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known."
- Tim Kreider, I Know What You Think of Me (via kmnml)
• if we want to be loved we must first be known • life philosophies • words words words • love and tenderness