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You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.


Primarily poetry, Sherlock and Hannibal

x

moriarty-pet:

I would watch the hell out of this.

lazarus-is-no:

excerpt from “Litany In Which Certain Things are Crossed Out”

catastrophic-fallen-angel:

beljawn-waffles:

Jesus fucking Christ

I’ve been uncontrollably laughing for the past five minutes holy shit

thrillofthegay:

kirkspocks:

"there’s going to be a terrorist attack on london"

"do you like this shirt? where’s john"

Sherlock your gay is showing.

I go to bed with all my friends. 

You spend a lot of time building walls, Hannibal. It’s natural to want to see if someone is clever enough to climb over them.

johnfuckingwatson:

John wore the same shirt for stag night that he was wearing when they first met.

,

❝ A bouquet of clumsy words: you know that place between sleep and awake where you’re still dreaming but it’s slowly slipping? I wish we could feel like that more often. I also wish I could click my fingers three times and be transported to anywhere I like. I wish that people didn’t always say ‘just wondering’ when you both know there was a real reason behind them asking. And I wish I could get lost in the stars. Listen, there’s a hell of a good universe next door, let’s go. ❞

- E.E. Cummings (via itsacrimescene)

· poetry ·
viwan themes