wildflzwer

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Kaz, to Wylan: The native population of Fjerda can be aggressive, so it’s important to take necessary precautions when approaching.

Kaz, blowing an air horn an inch from Matthias’s face: Get fucked

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Am I the only one that doesn’t think Loki is narcissistic? I think he craves atttention because he doesn’t have enough. He feels neglected and tries to make things about himself to attract attention. In the scene where Loki explains his theory to Mobius, he looks like an excited puppy. He is so excited for the possibility that maybe for once he’s right. That behaviour is something that is very common in neglected children. Sif says to Loki that he is alone and always will be alone. His whole life he had no real friends and the only person that ever believed in him was Frigga. He was always overlooked and lived in the shadows of Thor’s greatness. Loki said that he hurts people as a part of the illusion for a desperate attempt at having the control that he has never had. A narcissist would never be able to admit this and would not even believe it. Narcissism by definition is the pursuit of gratification from vanity or egotistic admiration of one's idealised self-image and attributes. We know that this is not Loki because from what we’ve seen throughout the mcu is that he does not think of himself as amazing. He is self-critical and insecure. Throughout his lifetime, he has been told over and over again that he is not enough and I think that he may say “I am a god” and “I am burdened with glorious purpose” to convince himself and others that he is great. Loki is not narcissistic, he hides his insecurities behind a shield that resembles narcissism.

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My first fanart portrait 👉👈

#loki (marvel) #loki fanart #art journal #loki painting #loki of asgard #love is a dagger #acrylic art #loki quotes #loki and sylvie

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when richard siken said “let’s jump ahead to the moment of epiphany, in gold light, as the camera pans to where the action is, lakeside and backlit, and it all falls into frame, close enough to see the blue rings of my eyes as i say something ugly. i never liked that ending either. more love streaming out the wrong way, and i don’t want to be the kind that says the wrong way. but it doesn’t work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats. there were some nice parts, sure. all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas and the grains of sugar on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. i’m sorry it’s such a lousy story.”

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You saved my life he says I owe you everything.

You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone, but he’s

           relentless,

keeps saying I owe you, says Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood,

you must want something, just tell me, and it’s yours.

          But I can’t look at him, can hardly speak,

I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons, I’d just as soon kill you myself, I say.

You keep saying I owe you, I owe…but you say the same thing every time.

          Let’s not talk about it, let’s just not talk.

Not because I don’t believe it, not because I want it any different, but I’m always saving

and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.

          Don’t bother.

You never mean it anyway, not really, and it only makes me that much more ashamed.

There’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it, just get me bandages, I’m bleeding,

          I’m not just making conversation.

There’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars. It’s a Western, Henry,

it’s a downright shoot-em-up. We’ve made a graveyard out of the bone white afternoon.

          It’s another wrong-man-dies scenario

and we keep doing it, Henry, keep saying until we get it right… 

but we always win and we never quit, see, we’ve won again, here we are at the place

          where I get to beg for it

where I get to say Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me, we can leave our

clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?

          or will I say

Roll over and let me fuck you till you puke, Henry, you owe me this much, you can indulge me

this at least, can’t you? but we both know how it goes. I say I want you inside me

           and you hold my head underwater, I say  I want you inside me

and you split me open with a knife. I’m battling monsters, half-monkey, half-tarantula,

I’m pulling you out of the burning buildings and you say I’ll give you anything.

          But you never come through.

Give me bullet power. Give me power over angels. Even when you’re standing up

you look like you’re lying down, but will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to

          tie your arms down?

Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary

like it’s just another petty theft? It makes me tired, Henry. Do you see what I mean?

          Do you see what I’m getting at?

You swallowing matches and suddenly I’m yelling Strike me. Strike anywhere.

I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you’ve taken something out of me, and I have to search

          my body for the scars, thinking

Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? I know you want me to say it, Henry,

it’s in the script, you want me to say Lie down on the bed, you’re all I ever wanted

          and worth dying for too

but I think I’d rather keep the bullet this time. It’s mine, you can’t have it, see,

I’m not giving it up. This way you still owe me, and that’s

          as good as anything.

You can’t get out of this one, Henry, you can’t get it out of me, and with this bullet

lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because

           it’s all I have,

because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. I’ll be your

slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this

          bullet inside me

‘cause I couldn’t make you love me and I’m tired of pulling your teeth. Don’t you see, it’s like

I’ve swallowed your house keys, and it feels so natural, like the bullet was already there,

          like it’s been waiting inside me the whole time.

Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? Will you throw me to the ground

like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands?

          If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.

Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now?

There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet

          staring up at us like we’re something interesting.

This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard,

and make a wish.

#crush richard siken #richard siken #crush #wishbone #richard siken wishbone #poetry #poemoftheday #can't get this out of my head #love poems

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“I’ve hoarded your name in my mouth for months. My throat is a beehive pitched in the river. Look! Look how long this love can hold its breath.”

Tennessee Williams, from The Vine // Gulzar // Joy Ladin, from Forgetting // Andrés Neuman, from Delivery // Violette Leduc, from Thérèse and Isabelle, tr. by Sophie Lewis // Pablo Neruda, from Ode to an Apple // Richard Siken, from Saying Your Names // Carol Ann Duffy, from Name // Richard Siken, from Saying Your Names

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“I am so busy. I am practicing my new hobby of watching me become someone else. There is so much violence in reconstruction. Every minute is grisly, but I have to participate. I am building what I cannot break.”

— Jennifer Willoughby, The Sun is Still a Part of Me

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Watching Death Parade and I don't know how I feel about it?? I mean, the system is interesting but maybe I would have judged them differently. But then as the white haired guy says "how can you expect life to be fair now?" idk I don't know what to feel about it.

#death parade #death parade anime

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// You once told me that human eye is god's loneliest creation. How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing. The eye, alone in its socket, doesn't even know there's another one, just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty. Opening the front door to the first snowfall of my life, you whispered, "Look." //

An Except from On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong.

#on earth we're briefly gorgeous #ocean vuong #yearning #poetry

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hands in paintings.

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Me: god I wish I had good ideas

Me: *gets a good idea* wow! Thats… a lot of work

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go slowly, my lovely moon, go slowly.

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time: [passes]

me: what

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i hope future me is happy

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99% of the times when i see a dog, i have to drop whatever the hell i’m doing and acknowledge that there’s a dog and say hi to the dog and walk up to the dog and try to pet the dog.

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“I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hate myself. Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did. Go slow. I’m new to this but I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop without jumping. I have realized the moon did not have to be full for us to love it. We are not tragedies stranded here beneath it. If my heart really broke every time I fell from love I’d be able to offer you confetti by now but hearts don’t break, y’all, they bruise and get better. We were never tragedies. We were emergencies. You call 9 – 1 – 1. Tell them I’m havin’ a fantastic time.”

— Buddy Wakefield