SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY
I love it when gorgeous guys are actually amazing actors too.
IMDB Top 250: 15. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring:
↳“It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. Such a little thing. “
I’m not anyone’s first choice. I’m not anyone’s favorite. People may tell me I mean a lot to them and that I’m special to them but I know there’s someone they will always choose over me.
I hate that someone can have so much influence over your emotions and not even know it. That someone else controls whether or not you are happy and can change a fantastic mood into silent tears with one careless thought, word, action even a look. And you never even gave that control away willingly. They took it without knowing and; at your darkest, you decide, without caring. And maybe you should tell them, maybe you think that that way you’ll regain your control. You won’t - they will either react positively, in which case your emotions are on a high, or they’ll react negatively and you’ll plummet into heartbreak - either way it is they who hold the control over your emotional state. I don’t relinquish control well and I hate having it taken from me without so much as a please. Especially over my heart.
I hate when you can’t tell the difference between the behaviour of someone who has realised that they’ve been leading you on this whole time and is trying to back out quietly, and someone who’s just distracted by something else. I especially hate when someone tries to do the first one. When you’ve been leading someone on the worst thing to do is to try and distance yourself from them quietly - they immediately notice and torture themselves with wondering what they did wrong. Hours are spent obsessing over the meaning of every encounter and every word.
Just Tell Them. Before you beginning the distancing, tell them that you hadn’t meant to take control over their heart and happiness and its not something you want. Yes its going to hurt them like absolute hell and possibly break their heart. But it’ll be a clean break and thus easier to heal.
I hate feeling second-best to people I don’t even know. I hate looking at every other person and comparing myself to them and always coming up short in my head. I doubt everything about myself, from looks to personality and I know that’s not how its meant to be. You should gain confidence from being in love not have it drain from you more and more every encounter.
I hate how my heart refuses to listen to my brain. So goddamn much.
HAVE YOU EVER WANTED TO GRAB SOMEONE BY THE ARMS AND BE LIKE “YO IDIOT IM LIKE IN LOVE WITH YOU SO EITHER LIKE ME BACK OR STOP MAKING ME LIKE YOU” BUT YOU CAN’T BECAUSE THATS REALLY CREEPY AND OBSESSIVE YEAH ME NEITHER
Tom Hiddleston reads Bright Star by John Keats
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
Cold, I was, like snow, like ivory.
I thought He will not touch me,
But he did
He kissed my stone-cool lips.
I lay still
As though I’d died.
He stayed.
He thumbed my marble eyes,
He spoke –
Blunt endearments, what he’d do and how.
His words were terrible.
My ears were sculpture
Stone-deaf, shells.
I heard the sea.
I drowned him out.
I heard him shout.
He brought me presents, polished pebbles,
little bells.
I didn’t blink,
Was dumb.
He brought me pearls and necklaces and rings.
He called them girly things.
He ran his clammy hands along my limbs.
I didn’t shrink,
Played statue, shtum
He let his fingers sink into my flesh,
He squeezed, he pressed.
I would not bruise.
He looked for marks,
For purple hearts,
For inky stars, for smudgy clues.
His nails were claws.
I showed no scratch, no scrape, no scar.
He propped me up on pillows,
Jawed all night.
My heart was ice, was glass.
His voice was gravel, hoarse.
He talked white black
So I changed tack,
Grew warm, like candle
Kissed back,
Was soft, was pliable,
Began to moan,
Got hot, got wild,
Arched, coiled, writhed,
Begged for his child,
And at the climax
Screamed my head off - All an act
And haven’t seen him since.
Simple as that.
