#unusuallygifted

[ivory-rabbit]

👫 !!

This Meme :: [ ♥]Send ‘👫 ’ for some Assorted Head-canons

Fitz always has Theo’s favourite biscuits and tea at the house, in case Theo decides to visit.

His inherited book collection has become a lending library of sorts. No need for a formal sign-out sheet.

In autumn, he sends vegetables home with Theo when it’s time to clear out the garden.

Aside from his brother, A card/visit from Theo is perhaps the only interaction Fitz can count on during the Holiday season.

[traumeriin]

@unusuallygifted 

     “Theodore, come over here!” After stumbling upon a potentially significant clue Rosemary calls out for her boyfriend. “I found it in the fireplace, do you think it could be something important?” She hadn’t gotten a chance to read it, but the fact that someone unsuccessfully attempted to burn the ledger makes her think it has some significant information. 

[traumeriinmoved]

@unusuallygifted

   Rosemary spent most of the day in her art studio. Once she starts a new project she is completely absorbed in her work, and as a result she often forgets to do basic things like eat. For this reason when her partner shows up with food she smiles. ❝Hello Theodore.❞ She takes his arm and then gives him a kiss on the cheek. ❝What time is it?❞ 

[uncannyprydee]

@unusuallygifted // liked for a starter

With a sigh, as she leaves the diner Etta wraps her coat tighter around her shoulders. She wants nothing more than to go back to Magnus’ apartment and warm herself up while she waits for him to return. So, she keeps walking head down, hands in her pockets which is why she doesn’t see the young boy heading her way and ends up walking straight into him. She stumbles for a moment before catching herself, “Oh I’m sorry,” she frowns looking around, unable to see a parent or guardian for the boy, “Are you lost?”

[daedaluscried]

@unusuallygifted

“ Oh yeah, I have your gift right here. Just close your eyes -- I want it to be a surprise. “ Suri smiled, holding something behind her back. Unfortunately, it was a snowball - ready to be thrown.

[mcststellar-blog]

@unusuallygifted

     “THERE’S....ONLY ONE broccoli on this pan. Only one.”

[hyacinthsgirl]

@unusuallygifted

     not even a month after her very first escape here she was, sneaking out of the living room window. The time her parents would hire a guardian to keep an eye on her had not come yet, so for the time being she was free to roam as much as she wanted, without anyone following her to bring her back home. Well, that was a little lie. One or two housemaids would eventually notice her disappearance and rush outside to find her, hoping she had not walked too far from the quarter. They did not have to worry: in the end Chris would always walk back near her house, pulled by the very reason behind her birth. She could not wait to see more of the world, but at the same time she knew what her place in it was. It was not on a beach, not on top of a mountain, not in a city miles away from this one: it was in the house where she had been born, among darkness and dust. It was sad that a young girl like her ( who had barely walked out childhood ) was already aware of her future and had already accepted it.

     There was so much else to think of today, though! Spring was near, she felt it in the air as she landed on the pavement and started running as fast as possible, her dress fluttering around her legs. She ran with a smile on her face, dodging people, tasting freedom again with every inch of her soul. So caught in that feeling, she did not pay attention to what might hide round the corner and, as soon as she went round it, bumped into someone else. Both Chris and the stranger fell on the ground, together with whatever objects the other was carrying. “I’m sorry!” she apologized almost immediately. “Are you hurt?”

     Yes, definitely a good way to start her new journey through the city.

[maliiciously-blog]

@unusuallygifted

     “MR. SALLIS. How good of you to come.”

     The night did no wonders for her -- in fact, she was restless for the whole day. At exactly eleven, she spoke in the deep, foreboding tone of the notorious D.R. (which would’ve angered Priestly if he was there to hear ‘him’ even cough) upon seeing Tobias Sallis arrive, and she stepped out from the corner of Hal’s to greet him personally with a teasing grin. If anything, D.R. was a joke now.

     “For the record,” she continued, this time in her usual voice, “I was excited.”

[daedaluscried]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. It’s time to spread positivity ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Ahhhh~~~~ Thank you

[mcststellar-blog]

@unusuallygifted​

     “OH, YOU’RE HERE,” was the phrase that Arthur Priestly had used upon seeing Theodore Sallis, and before that phrase was uttered, there were quite a few things that occurred from the front door of the Priestly Mansion all the way to the young master’s study. Before all that, however, it was Arthur himself who extended the invitation to Theodore in regards to coming to his house, and after all that, one of the mansion’s servants had to lead him from the rather vast hall up three flights of stairs, two left turns, one right turn, three doors to the left, all the way to the study. The servant herself was a chatterbox, in where she had recounted about how time flies by and how Theodore Sallis had grown from an infant to a teenage boy, but after all that, the servant had walked right into Arthur being busy with reading the newspaper.

     His personal study was spacious, yet rather too big for a boy his age. A large window served as a rather good view, and it was used to illuminate the room with the sunlight on a bright Saturday morning. Portraits of stern men and women stared at the boy from the opposite wall, as if they expected him to upkeep his duties, and if they had any expectations at all, Arthur certainly lived up to them. His desk was organized, yet far from empty -- the newspaper that was previously in his hands lay open amidst memo pads, pens and books, and a calculator could be seen being used as a temporary paperweight for his mother’s note.

     Numerous numbers that were too small for the naked eye littered the pages of the newspaper, indicating that the boy was reading about the stock exchange, thus Arthur ended up marking where he left off with a small check mark with his pen.

     “Wonderful, hello there, chap!” he laughed, waving away the humoured servant as she closed the door before exiting the room. “Terribly sorry about that horrid incident -- I’m sure you know why I had to do it, but on another note, there’s something I ought to ask you.”

[traumeriinmoved]

@unusuallygifted

   Another night, another adventure! This time their little escapade led them to the beach. After taking off her shoes she lifted her dress just enough to avoid getting sand on it as she walked. ❝It’s gorgeous here, no?❞

[harryanutz]

#thenutjob #harryanutz #podcastextraordinaire #oneofakind #nothinglikethis #extrodinaryordinary #unorthadoxapproach #unusuallygifted https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx-7phCnnpF/?igshid=1vgfs1yf8e6ou

[adventuresstrange-blog]

@unusuallygifted || surprise starter!

“I suppose, if you think about it that way, then I’m supposed to have read at least half the books in the house already -- but I can’t read nearly as fast as Sticky can, and Constance keeps tearing out the two-hundredth page in any book I ask Rhonda about. She says it’s better if I make up what happens instead. What do you think?”

[daedaluscried]

Guys, have I ever told you how much I love Suri and Theo’s ( @unusuallygifted ) friendship. It’s so important to me because Suri cares so much about Theo and will literally fight a crazed man for him. And Theo is this bright light of hope and adventure when Suri’s life is becoming increasingly darker and sadder.

Good stuff. Good stuff.

[traumeriin]

* CLASSIC NOVELIST AESTHETICS .

JOHN KEATS. the lavender in sunsets, flowers in the rain, sunlight slipping through clouds, lazy summer afternoons, the heavy scent of musk, flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books, fireflies on a cool summer night, being wrapped in fresh bed sheets,the ache of wanting what you can never have, dripping sunlight like gold, loving someone so exquisite, soft lips and soft whispers, fingers through hair, names of lovers carved in trees, broken glass, the insistence of being perpetually dreamy.

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.  crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, mahogany wood, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, bruised arms reaching out into the darkness,cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment, your favorite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing,the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries,the romanticization of self-destruction.

FRANZ KAFKA.  the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there,the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books, delicate veins in the wrist, ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal,nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head.

H.P. LOVECRAFT. the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a child’s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never-ending ocean, the silence of three a.m., ouija boards and urban legends.

JACK KEROUAC.  the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination,those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark, naps spent in the sun, novels highlighted and underlines with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe,dazzling people, open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive.

EDGAR ALLAN POE.  the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands, twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse, death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other,glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon, heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret.

TAGGED BY. @splatteredfingers (thank u!!) TAGGING. @maternalmelancholy @bitemyhip @irishrot @ohfiendangelical @escapedartgeek @biirdbone @unusuallygifted

[toughlittleguy-blog]

Hey guys.

As time goes on, this hiatus I took while studying abroad is proving to be an indefinite one.

I would like to say that it is because of no one except myself that I am leaving tumblr. I no longer have the muse for writing here, and fortunately I do have the muse for writing elsewhere. I’ve made lots of progress on an original story I’m writing, as well as two or three plays over the past few months. School and the real world are catching up on me as well, and I’ve been devoting my energy to auditioning, preparing for jobs and reading as well.

I would like to give a big thank you and many hugs to everyone I’ve ever RP’d with, spoken to, or just seen around my dash. Thanks to everyone who ever followed Crutchie, Smike, and goodness knows all my other blogs in the past.

Special mentions go to Anti @daedaluscried Hilary @dxdger Jackie @capnnjack Sarah @luxche Amanda @unionleader Ali @heirtothetrib and Sophie @unusuallygifted. Without you all, tumblr would have been a very different place for me. If any of you would like to keep in touch, just message me and I’ll give you any form of social media you like.

Thanks all for the memories, the Newsies livestreams, the Nicholas Nickleby livestreams (DONT THROW THE BABY!!!!) and memes, Actual Cannibal Joseph Pulitzer, and all your unwavering support through my seven or so years on tumblr.

Thanks all.

Love,

Hayley