#you & i have begun to blur

[thegirlwiththeaxe]

We wrote with two guitars, John and I. And, as I’ve mentioned previously, the joy of that was that I was left-handed while he was right handed, so I was looking in a mirror and he was looking in a mirror

Get Back Tape January 29th (via amoralto), Wuthering Heights Emily Brontë, Klaus Voormann, Letters to Milena Franz Kafka, Mojo Magazine (via amclennonblog) , Guardian Interview (via amoralto), GQ interview, Letter to Mathilde Trampedach from Friedrich Nietzsche, Uncut Interview, Glass Onion Lennon-Mccartney, The Waves Virginia Woolf, Please Please Me in The Lyrics

[arkashas]

Hannibal 1.01 Apéritif | Hannibal 2.13 Mizumono

[thegroundhogdidit]

actually no hannigram and loustat aren't the same hannigram is about consuming each other so wholly that it's impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins and loustat is about crawling into your lover's corpse until the rot consumes your body and soul hope this helps

[snoweylily]

skyfall x dolce

or, in other words, emotionally-repressed blond serial killers and their curly dark haired sarcastic bitch boyfriends surrounded by paintings with far too many metaphors

[derangedrhythms]

Pablo Neruda, Full Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon: One Hundred Love Sonnets; from ‘XVII’, tr. Stephen Mitchell

[cowboycannibalism]

we don't talk enough about the back and forth montage of Will getting life saving surgery/Abigail getting an autopsy in Primavera (3x2)

[glittergroovy]

[winged-cries]

Duffer (1972, dir. Joseph Despins, William Dumaresq)

[magnetoapologist]

YOU'RE LIKE A PERSONIFIED WAR

[likeprongstostars]

when i say no one understands regulus like i do i mean it in way that ive projected so much of me onto him that i basically use him as a doll to observe myself from an outside perspective

[landslided]

lawrusso is great to me because at the same time they’re very sitcom monica and chandler, looney tunes road runner and wile. e. coyote, duo in a benny hill show (silly guys) BUT ALSO in my heart of hearts i think they’re dramatic lovers à la patroclus and achilles, romeo and juliet, hannibal and will (with the toxicity). they have the range!

[worldsmostcasualmpregfan]

[dj khaled voice] anotha one (fic i might never finish)

Jamie was fucking tired of it. Roy was a fucking sight on the pitch, and Jamie knew he knew how to guide the team to greatness and had countless lessons in fame, but fuck if he wasn’t dull when it came to literally everything else.

“No,” he said, “I’m not dating your sister. I don’t even fucking want your sister!” He paused, then added, “She’s mad lovely, though. Nothing against her.”

“Last you said, she was fit,” Roy growled, because that’s the only way he's able to communicate.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s true and ‘cause it’s fun winding you up. You really never realised?”

Roy glared, though it wasn’t that much different from his expression before.

Jamie sunk deeper into his chair, defeated, and sighed. “Look, mate, your sister is fit, but have you ever considered it’s ‘cause she’s a Kent? And — and you always think I’m trying to fucking... fuck the women close to you, if not her then it’s Keeley, and look, I like them, I love Keeley, but not like that, and have you ever considered that—.” Jamie swallowed, fingers curling into his palms, nails biting into the skin. This was it; the big reveal. He could just keep his mouth shut and nothing would have to change.

But Roy just kept looking at him, and Jamie said it anyway: “Have you ever considered that all I’ve ever fucking wanted is you?”

Finally, Roy glanced away, and Jamie took a breath, then Roy closed his eyes, and Jamie saw him count to three — fucking... anger? He was angry at Jamie for this? And Jamie prepared for a fight, a fist flying at his face, even though he thought they’d left that behind in the alleyway behind the club, mostly because they were fucking shit at fistfighting, and really Jamie had just wanted Roy’s hands on him and didn’t know what else to do and it’s like a fucking primal instinct, reacting to Roy’s fire with flames of his own, but instead of punching him, Roy just shook his head and asked, “You think I’m fit?”

Jamie couldn’t help it — he laughed, and it was slightly hysteric, slightly too bright and too sharp and too much, but it was just unbelievable. That’s what it was. “Fucking hell, Roy! Yes! I’ve just had your poster up on me wall for the past fucking thirteen years for shits and giggles, yeah.”

Roy scoffed but dipped his head. “Alright. Alright.” He took a swig from his bottle, and Jamie determinedly looked away but in a way that wasn’t obvious. Still, when his eyes went back to Roy, he found Roy to already be watching him. Jamie licked his lips. Roy’s gaze lowered and followed the movement.

It wasn’t an answer, but Jamie felt confident. He leaned forward, and Roy didn’t stop him. Still, the first touch of their lips was soft and tentative and the most chaste first kiss Jamie’s ever had. He loved it, and he didn’t think about if it would happen again. He’d make sure it happens again.

When he pulled away, Roy’s eyes were still shut, and his brow was furrowed. Jamie just barely held back from tracing his tongue across his lips, curious if he’d be able to taste Roy, if there was anything in a kiss like that.

He felt like he was twelve again, sneaking around with one of the boys from the academy. But this was even more nerve-wracking because, well, it’s Roy fucking Kent, innit? National hero, Jamie’s first gay wank fantasy, probably Jamie’s greatest love after football and his mum. He’d been confident, but now he was readying for things to go tits up.

Roy opened his eyes. “You fucking mean it, then?”

Jamie blinked. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. ‘Course I mean it. I love you.” And he hadn’t meant to say that, and he for sure fucked it, but at the same time he felt lighter, like the full truth had finally been revealed.

And Roy didn’t look mad or disgusted or like he was going to up and leave Jamie there by himself at the bar, even though it was his own fucking house, and Jamie felt himself take a breath.

“Roy?” His voice was small. “You don’t have to say anything back, or, well, I’d like it if you did, but it doesn’t have to be that. Just. Just—”

“Jamie?”

“Yeah, coach?”

The glare he got in return for that was perfect, and he felt tingles all over. He smiled, hesitant. Roy rolled his eyes, grabbed the front of Jamie’s shirt, and pulled him into another kiss.

[deeism]

thinking about dee and dennis and dee constantly trying to break away from the mold created for them and proving she is more than her brother vs dennis clinging to dee whenever she tries to go anywhere or do anything without him and "her hair is my hair" and believing they are fundamentally the same and she would be nothing without him. they can't find a healthy balance between the two it's all or nothing dee is trying to cut herself free from her own skin and dennis is trying to sew himself into it

[mustlovewillgrahamsdogs]

what i wouldn't give to have a scene where hannibal mentions the whole murder husbands thing to will 😩he's just never gonna bring that up? yeah right

[stagdog]

hannibal is genuinely so wonderful. love talking with him, its such a cool person !

[derangedrhythms]

—your heart beat in my ribs and mine in yours

Herman Melville, from a letter to Nathaniel Hawthorne c. 17th November 1851