#hes half of my soul as the poets say;

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

Babe, there's something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me No tired sigh, no rolling eyes, no irony No "who cares", no vacant stares, no time for me Honey you're familiar, like my mirror years ago

( II @vxctorx )

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

II @vxctorx

Can I have this…plaseeeee? 

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

'You with the dark curls. You with the watercolour eyes.' ( @vxctorx)

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

😊 [SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES] — not intimidating at all ((have i sent this in to irk you? perhaps))

how intimidating does your muse find mine?: ACCEPTING

II @vxctorx

"Not intimidatin' at all? AT. ALL!? Vic! How could ye'! I'm plenty of intimidatin'!-- Righ'. C'mere! I'm gonna show ye' intimidatin'!"

[harritudur]

― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

II @vxctorx

peak intimacy: kissing someone’s inner wrist 

[rexsterss]

Were none of you gonna warn me on the fact that Fox and Thorn’s paint jobs are just opposites of each other. When one’s drenched with red, the other leaves it white. When blank plastoid is exposed, the other will cover it with red. They're half of each other's souls, Scoob.

[voidcatofbedlam]

Achilles and Patroclus reuniting in the underworld

Gouache on canvas

Finished reading the Song of Achilles in a day and oh gods it hurt me so much I need to paint the ending scene

[ghostisun]

dewther and their favourite places to kiss each other is that sliver of skin underneath the ear. it's ticklish and feather-light, a brush of unyielding affection, and the place where their scent is most potent.

dew's always rewarded with a giggly aether when he kisses him there so of course he begins to tease more; hot breaths and fever-warm lips. his element—which has always been dangerous and volatile—is twisted into something playful for his love. into something kind. into something that draws aether into his arms.

aether purrs when dew does this, burly arms curling around the slope of dew's waist and tugging him close—his sputtering furnace mixing with aether's rippling tenderness.

he loves him. satanas, oh how he loves aeth.

(can't help myself but thinking about how when aether left, dew started wearing his hair down more and dressing up more; turtle necks and collared button-ups even when it's warm out—his last semblance of hiding himself, especially his most sensitive spot. aether's favourite place to kiss.)

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

II @vxctorx // @lovefail

jude law in wilde (1997) dir. brian gilbert

[rambling-melpomene]

“I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.”

“He smiled, and his face was like the sun.”

“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.”

“I found myself wishing he would wake so that I might watch the life return.”

“He said what he meant; he was puzzled if you did not.”

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

— Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

[dxrknlight]

"He is half of my soul, as the poets say"

just finished the book had to make some lockscreens i miss them

if you'd like more tell me which is ur fav quote of the song of achilles and ill make one

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

writes on Richard's wrist: if lost, return to Victor Trevor

Grab a marker and write (or draw) something on my muse: ACCEPTING

II @vxctorx

When Richard left for the station that day he had no idea that he was walking around with Vic’s handwriting scribbled on his wrist. Others, however, certainly seemed to notice. 

It wasn’t until late at night that somebody was pounding against the front door of Vic’s manor. The image revealed, when the door finally swung open, was that of the large and lumbering, local pub owner holding the copper. One hand was gripping the scruff of Richard’s jacket, like he was nothing more than a scruffy, ill-tempered kitten, whilst the other held the copper’s wrist, to reveal Vic’s little message. “I believe this is yours, Lord Trevor,” tut the pub owner in a most unamused tone. Who could blame him? The only rookie copper in the pub and he basically causes a brawl to erupt. Thank god for Vic’s message.

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

II @vxctorx

Oh to be kissed until I can barely think a single coherent thought

[risetherivermoon]

work on all of my ao3 wips << start a new oneshot abt terry jr x lark

[alwaysrunningoutoftime]

sydcarmy: you're not alone/billie eilish wildflower (cr: bearrzatto on x)