1, 2, 3, 4 !

[drugstoreperfumemp3]

I wonder what I’d be…without you.

[liquidlightandrunningtrees]

We’re not meant for happiness, you and I.

Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca (via liquidlightandrunningtrees)

[symptomofinsanity]

armedandclever asked: " okay, you don't mean that, so just - stop it. "

“ Don’t I now—? Says who? You? And you’re—what, the local expert on my quite frankly sensational frame of mind—? Got the prognosis all sorted out, have you, Doctor—? ”

He reached around to scratch at the back of his neck—blinking in the low light. For now, his expression was still reasonably mild—even a bit vaguely inquiring. The look in his eyes wasn’t altogether focused.

“ Oh, wait—hold on, sorry— ”

The furrow of his brow jerked upwards, and his tone dropped—became suddenly rougher.

“ —that’s not really the point here, is it—? The point is—no, listen—this one’s great, so listen— ”

He put up a finger—brandished it several times, both corners of his mouth twitching nastily, unevenly. His eyes were narrowed down to slits, and there was an irregular edge to his voice—as if some of the words were getting stuck on his tongue.

“ The point is—you don’t wanna hear it! Ooh. And you’ve got a very, very low tolerance for all that grisly stuff, don’t you? In fact— ” He exhaled audibly, hotly—leaning in very close.

“ —you might—might, even have me beat, and you should know I don’t often say that. ”

[aenslem]

I’m here

[symptomofinsanity]

armedandclever asked: " yeah, except - you're not that slow, i know you're not, so - please, just keep up. "

“ Oh, well—add that to my list of heinous offenses then, shall I—? Deliberate lollygagging—? Can’t have that. Good grief—where does the villainy end—? ”

His response was dull, bitterly sardonic—almost completely humorless, but not quite. He rolled his eyes.

“ What am I gonna do—? Catch a bus while you’re not looking—? Ooh—there’s a real big idea. Really, Doctor. ”

He quickened his pace—just enough to come up alongside the other man, and then he proceeded to match him—angling a shoulder in his direction upon doing so. His tone had dropped.

“ —next you’ll be accusing me of shifty hand gestures, or—I dunno, wearing the wrong color tie—? Is that a thing—? Well—in your book of good etiquette, I’m guessing. ” He sniffed, dismissive—directing his gaze ahead of them. Looking vaguely annoyed.

“ Or, maybe I’m getting old and tired. Ever think of that one? ”

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I haven’t had enough sleep for years,

Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer written c. March 1913 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[dwgif]

[symptomofinsanity]

armedandclever asked: " you know, if you're going to do that i'd really rather you just got it over with. "

“ What, and ruin all the fun—? Oh, you complete spoilsport! I should have you flogged. ”

His eyes were squinted, and he donned a look of disapproval, clicking his tongue several times—seemingly offended by the mere notion. He tugged back the cuff of his sleeve, and—leaning forward, rapped his knuckles against the other man’s head.

“ Haven’t you got any sense of humor left in that old, withering brain of yours—? No—? Nothing—? ” Exhaling audibly, he frowned, standing up—pulling another face. Getting mostly deadpan.

“ —well, isn’t that just brutally mundane? No wonder global moral’s experiencing a catastrophic nose-dive. ”

He sniffed, folded his arms, and then he turned—addressing the rest of the room instead.

Would’ve been better if there’d been more of an audience present, but—well, it would do in a pinch. He opened his arms, gesturing—sounding more enthusiastic than he felt in the given moment.

“ Die young, kids! Don’t want to end up like this gloomy wretch! ” He shook his head and looked down, grinning to himself—rubbing at the back of his neck.

[metaphorformetaphor]

[…] it was as though he were all wrapped up in some cloud, some fire, some vision all his own; and there wasn’t any way to reach him.

James Baldwin, from Sonny’s Blues (Penguin,1957)

[symptomofinsanity]

“ Oh, because apparently I’m---‘a monster’. Or---so I’ve been told, anyway. ”

[onlylostphysics]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Mad kisses,

Arthur Rimbaud, tr. by Daisy Aldan, from The Collected Poems; “A Dream For Winter,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[symptomofinsanity]

armedandclever asked: " well, you don't see her doing it, do you? "

He paused, screwing up his expression—vaguely indignant.

“ —yeah, so—? Were you actually going somewhere with that—? Or, is that sort’ve thing just supposed to speak for itself these days—? ”

His eyes were squinted, and he made a loose, flippant series of gestures—puffing out an audible breath.

“ You know, with her being your—well, how to describe it? Preference? Favorite? Ideal version of me—? I’m open to suggestions. Still haven’t found one that doesn’t sound, oh—I dunno—a tiny bit crass, shall we say—? ”

His brow had furrowed, quirking upwards, and he turned about—clapping his hands together, leaning back solidly on the heels of his boots. Not exactly looking at the man across from him, but—then again, did he really need to?

No, probably not.

“ —can’t imagine why. I mean, you’ve got such a brilliant thing going here, after all. ”

[thenyoustoleme]

Doctor Who - The End of Time: Part Two

[valtsv]

*eyes start glowing and i begin to levitate* no one fucking talk to me im angy

[symptomofinsanity]

armedandclever asked: " no, no, no, don't - don't do that, you're going to hurt yourself. "

“ Shh—! ” His entire body flinched, and he whipped about, menacing—dropping his hands from where they’d been gripping at his skull, and squeezing them into crude fists—clenching hard enough to drive marks against his palms.

Then he let go—suddenly, violently—flexing his fingers in a rigid, erratic manner.

“ Shut up—shut up, shut up, shut up—! Listen. ” His eyes were tightly closed now, and he’d ducked his head away—exhaling stiffly, audibly—licking his lips.

“ Don’t move. Ah—! I said, don’t move. ” He’d thrust a finger into the air—threatening, accusatory—and his tone had dropped abruptly—getting lower, more dangerous.

Gradually, he lowered his hand—and then he sniffed, opening his eyes—fixing the other man with a sour, frowning look. Evidently skeptical.

“ Oh, he never knows when to quit it! That’s the trouble with you, isn’t it? That god-awful tongue. Always making too much bloody noise! ” He got louder as he went along—more animated, and he gestured—widely, loosely—throwing his hands up in the air.

Then his mouth gave a bitter, morbid twitch.

“ Now that’s—ooh, that’s enough to drive anybody mad. ” His eyebrows shot up quite visibly, and he moved closer, blinking several times—feigning concern.

“ What’s the matter, Doctor? Can’t save us all? Can’t seem to stop compounding the issue—? Because, let me tell you—my head is positively splitting—! ”

His features had broken apart into a grin, and there was laughter stirring in his chest—low at first, and then he began to shake with it, almost wheezing—putting a hand up to his mouth and biting down hard.

[thequotejournals]

Your neck. I want to kiss it.

Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac (via thequotejournals)