Belle: I can't believe you assassinated the King!
Rumple: Well, 'assassinated' implies it was politically motivated. I killed him because he was a dick, so technically I murdered him
Belle: That's not better!
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ℑ 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔞 𝔩𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔰,
𝔉𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩—𝔞 𝔣𝔞𝔢𝔯𝔶’𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡,
ℌ𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔯 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤, 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱,
𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔡
- John Keats, La Belle Dame Sans Merci (1819)
(based on the eponymous painting by Frank Dicksee (1901))
(prints available on my inprnt ! :))
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BEFORE GRUNGE WAS BIG, IT WAS BLACK
L: Tina Bell, Bam Bam
R: Doug Pinnick, King's X
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"Is she your favourite?"
still lives in my head rent free
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Rumple: Don't worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.
Belle: I think you mean cards.
Rumple, pulling knives out of his sleeves: No, I do not.
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when spencer reid first gets out of prison, he’s scarred. that much is obvious. he’s no longer the boy wonder the team knew before cat adams framed him, he’s cold, he’s reserved. you can’t blame him, not one bit, but you miss him. you miss seeing the light in his eyes and a genuine smile on his face. so maybe that’s why, one day after work, your body moves of its own volition. you approach spencer’s desk gently, where he’s still hunched over a case file, long after work hours. he sees you, you can tell by the way he allows his eyes to shut. your heart warms at the way he still trusts you, enough to let his guard down after spending time in a maximum security prison. that’s why you bring your hand up to the nape of his neck, letting your nails scrape gently. you smile seeing the goosebumps erupt along his neck, his eyes now squeezing completely shut. you almost feel honored at the small gesture. the fact that, after everything, spencer still trusts you. it’s like when someone else’s dog chooses to sit with you, and you feel like the chosen one. you’re spencer’s chosen one, and the knowledge of that floods you with so much relief you could cry.
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