There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don’t know how

[for my lovely Rachele ]

Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ended so suddenly.


What the hell are you doing?
Changing the future. It’s called marriage.

Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.

inspired by [x]


and god said, “let chris pine be a prince”

You’re like two sides of the same coin.

One of the most heartbreaking parts of the Les Mis movie is when Grantaire runs up the steps to see the Enjolras cornered, the look on his face is so horribly sad  


Because unlike in the book Grantaire doesn’t sleep through the revolution until the end, in the movie (and the musical but I’m just speaking about the movie here) he’s been fighting alongside his friends and he has watched them die.
He knows it’s the end, he’s known it never would have worked…

John held out his hand. “It’s been – really, an honor, Sherlock. One of the best acting experiences of my life. Thank you.”

Sherlock took his hand and shook it. “It’s been my privilege, John. Please keep in touch.”

“I will. You do the same.”

They hung on to each other’s hands for a beat, then released. John’s hand felt cold at once, as if the warmth of Sherlock’s grip had immediately become its new preferred state, and the absence of it was a bitter denial.


Sherlock stared out the window of the plane and watched Toronto diminish until the broke through the clouds and then he saw nothing but white. Sally was quiet in the seat next to him. He could hear her fingers on her BlackBerry, sending emails, making contacts, verifying things on his behalf.

Sherlock just stared. Stared out at the unrelenting whiteness, the blazing bright of the sky, the blue of it undimmed by moisture, blurry now with his own.