#from mick’s book

[witchqueenofthemoon]

Stevie and Lindsey, Austin 1976.

[mommyashtoreth]

The thing abt Crowley that I think is missing from a lot of fan content is people like. how do I word this. people like him so much that they're not willing to make him do things they find unlikable. Crowley's demonhood is usually represented in fan stuff by him like, doing bad things to bad people, people who "had it coming" one way or another, which I think works in serious contexts but is just no fun if you're trying to match the tone of the source! Crowley comes up with and does things that are objectively annoying and unpleasant and that's Fine. It's hilarious. We all need to make peace with the fact that Crowley would play Instagram reels loud as hell on the train, she'd be in front of you on line at the drug store paying with exact change, she'd show up to your baby shower with one of those toys that make a bunch of noise, she invented the leafblower. Etc. These jokes write themselves they're so easy and they're always funny and I want to see more of that sort of energy

[arthursfuckinghat]

Jack Marston oh Jack Marston they could never make me hate you.

They could never make me hate you for being raised by outlaws and then trying your best not to become one.

They could never make me hate you for getting trapped in the cycle of generational violence.

They could never make me hate you for suffering the consequences of violence and loss.

They could never make me hate you for failing to break free from a troubled past.

They could never make me hate you.

[omg-hellgirl]

He had red, thick, unusual lips, and his lips flattened in the most indolent, damp, and wide-lipped cocksucker smile.

— Tom Wolfe, American journalist and author.

[schoolsoutmp3]

I say that if Timothy Hunter ever shoes up in Dead Boy Detectives, he should have Yo-Yo with him, and Yo-Yo and Monty shoukd have the weirdest birds-but-not discussion ever

[oftwodarkmoons]

Anita Pallenberg and Keith Richards with Marlon, 1969.

[theclasharchives]

photos from the clash's japan tour book in 1982. full scan here!

[arrows-unofficial-ocs]

For the plot bunny ask game: Gemma Chan (Mr. Malcolm's List) + Bridgerton + Lord Michaela Stirling love interest, please??

@dancingsunflowers-ocs 💖

name: lady susannah marie baxter, daughter of the marquess of birks

age: 30

sexuality: bisexual

job: lady

love interest: michaela stirling

brief summary: when lady susannah baxter first met lady michaela stirling in 1820, they were both reeling from tragedies. for michaela, it was threefold. her cousin, john, had just died suddenly. john’s wife, francesca, suffered a miscarriage and fled to scotland. her twin brother, michael, had fled to the army. for susannah, it was twofold. her father died in a duel over an actress and her family was left to financial ruin. the two women found comfort in their friendship of mourning. for four years, susannah and michaela lived next door to each other, each edging further and further away from the marriage mart. not that either of them cared. neither susannah nor michaela were interested in marriage, or at least not the business transaction between men. but when michaela’s brother returns and begins to court francesca, susannah and michaela must confront deep feelings — for each other, for family, for life,

5 adjectives to describe them: resourceful, stubborn, intelligent, creative, friendly

faceclaim: gemma chan

send me a fandom and i’ll create a plot bunny for it

[thedeviousdevilxx]

Mick Jagger

Photo by Val Wilmer

[biracy]

Forgot I made this version which is more appropriate to my ideologies

[omg-hellgirl]

Chrissie was from the old scene, the Swinging London of dollies and pop stars. It was a very put-together look. The wig, false eyelashes and thick makeup. It took her simply ages to get ready. She could never spend the night anywhere because she might fall apart. Like Cinderella.

The times were changing and Chrissie wasn't.

Marianne Faithfull, Faithfull: An Autobiography.

[pillmanize]

almost finished with the SECOND (!!!) book i’ve read since 8th grade. it took me about 10 months to finish the first one, this is taking me less than two weeks. WE’RE SO FUCKING BACK!!!!

[biracy]

Tbh I should probably take a break. I almost definitely won't but I should, yknow

[stardustsymphony]

scar-mates || mattheo riddle

warning: smoking, burning.

a/n: i'm supposed to be studying for the exam i have in four hours and i have my book open in front of me but haven't even started studying yet so i hope y'all appreciate this cause i quite literally risked my future to write this. and please tell me y'all know that ‘sprinkle ✨ sprinkle ✨’ girl from instagram who makes reels about dark romance books mostly and she usually wears that soft, oversized pink blanket-like hoodie (or was it something else?). this one shot is inspired by one of her reel about a dark-romance book, i forgot the name.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ♕♛♕ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

“You’re like a drug.” Mattheo said, playing with your fingers. His brown eyes flickered to lock with yours, a mischievous glint in them that made your heart do flips. 

“Drugs are dangerous.”

“So are you.” 

The soft melody of rain echoed in the room, the distant sound of thunder adding in to the comfort. You snuggled close to Mattheo as a shiver ran down your spine because of the chilly room. Noticing this, he pulled you closer, your head against his chest and his heartbeat under your ear making you relax into his arms each passing second. 

“Stop snuggling so much to me,” he said –but his voice was filled with playful sarcasm. He pulled up the thick blanket all the way up to your shoulder, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. 

You lazily smiled up at him. “Stop being so warm then.” 

“I prefer the term ‘hot’, darling.” he winked at you. 

You rolled your eyes, a slight smile on your lips, as he took out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, lighting it. 

“You're smoking here?” you asked, he hardly ever smokes in front of you, let alone when both are cuddling. 

“Can't leave my girl alone to shiver, now, can I?” 

Your stomach flutters at his words –‘my girl’. Oh, how you loved whenever he said stuff like that, and he was well aware of the effect his words have on you, judging by his smirk hidden behind his cigarette. 

A comforting silence washed over you both as you both occasionally mumbled sweet nothings to each other, softly kissing each other between whispered words and giggles. 

It was moments like this that made you forget about everything, all the rumours that surrounded him, the different ways people had said he would break your heart. You never doubted your love for him for even a second, but there was still some time when you wondered if the rumours that surrounded him were true. 

Your relationship was not perfect, of course, it was filled with ups and downs. You never appreciated those ‘downs’, but your sister had always told you that ‘downs’ in a relationship was just as important as ‘ups’. She said she always reminds herself of this whenever she and her boyfriend go through a rocky phase, and next month, they will be getting married. 

“What are you thinking about?” Mattheo inhaled some smoke, kept it in his mouth, then exhaled it in rings. 

“My sister and her boyfriend.”

“They're getting married next month, no?” 

“Yeah,” you looked at him and brushed some of his hair from his forehead. “You've invited, by the way.” 

“I would have crashed the wedding if you hadn't invited me.” 

You snorted. “Of course you would've.” 

There was a moment of silence, then he asked. “What's he like? Your sister's boyfriend, I mean.” 

“He's nice, he used to buy me toys when I was young and sneak me out for lunch whenever I used to feel sad.” You smiled as you remember the time with your sister's boyfriend, Mick. He truly was like an older brother to you. 

“How did they meet?” 

“They're high school sweethearts.”

Mattheo gave you a slightly surprised glance. “That young, huh? You like talking about them, no?” He added when he saw your expression. 

“I can't help it,” you shrugged. “They're just so disgustingly in love, it's so sweet. Mick used to tell me he knew my sister was the one the moment they both met, like love at first sight. My sister tells me they both are scar-mates.” 

“Scar-mates?” Mattheo asked. “What's that?” 

“When my sister was young, she fell from the stairs and got a scar on her elbow. Mick has a scar on his elbow too, she used to tell me that if you have a scar somewhere, your soulmate would have one in the exact same place as well. She used to call them scar-mates.” 

“That's…dumb. And sweet.” He added hastily when he saw your expression flicker. “But you don't believe that, do you?” 

“I do, actually,” you said awkwardly, grinning a bit. “I've been hearing it since I was a child, so it's hard not to.” 

He gave you a look that looked like a mix of amusement and sarcasm. 

“In fact,” you continued, pushing down the shoulder of your sweatshirt and tilting your head to show him your collarbone. “I do have one scar here. It's when I fell from the swings in the backyard.” 

His eyes fell down at your collarbone, taking in the age old scar there. His fingers lightly brushed against it and you shivered. Then, as if you couldn't help yourself, you asked,

“Do you have any scars?” 

Mattheo didn't answer immediately, just brushed his fingers against your scar once more. Just when you thought he wouldn't answer at all, he sat straight and opened his shirt. 

It took all your willpower not to shamelessly stare at him. 

“Yeah, I do actually.” he said, taking his second cigarette out of his mouth and exhaling slowly, keeping his eyes on your face. And before you could react or ask him anything, he twisted his cigarette around and pressed it against his own collarbone, on the exact same spot where you had your scar. 

You gasped, horrified, and pulled his hand away and threw away his cigarette, not caring where it landed in the room. 

“What are you doing?!” you shrieked. 

Mattheo’s eyes never left your face, his expression not giving away anything as he held your chin gently, tilting your head to make you look at him.

“Scar-mates.” he said softly before leaning down to press his lips against the scar on your collarbone.