#philip white

[bienenkiste]

"I don't remember nothing". Marie Kippe by Philip White for Puss Puss Magazine April 2023

[badarchitectrecords]

Listen to this beautiful new track by Phillip White!

[softestaura]

Akuol Deng Atem by Philip White for Vogue Polska December 2022 Issue

[poem-today]

A poem by Philip White

Underwing

I don’t know what it is that brings me back walking here. Even the heat is old, the woods again in stunned depletion and everywhere the musk of carcass-rot catching in the throat or dulling as the trail winds through. I want it far off, that smell, the smear like tar on grass just visible through leaves, the spine spilled out like broken dice or beads. And so when huge black birds clatter up through branches, close, I’m frightened too, half-lifting my arm against the blow. Ten in ten feet, the combed silver of their underwings clear feather by feather, working hard with hoarse grunts to pierce the canopy. Then gone. And when I break from the trees I watch them lofting over the fields— “Like wreckage in a funnel cloud,” I thought then, in my grief. But slow, at ease, released, crossing and crossing in the carious air.

Philip White

Philip White writes: Probably too many of my poems are about birds. I can’t justify it. They’re just important to me. The worst places for me are the ones where birds are few. Fortunately, birds can be found almost everywhere, even places we’ve made pretty inhospitable to life. This poem is about one of the most spectacular birds for sheer beauty in flight.  They make the air look like an element you could live in.  It’s the more amazing because unlike the birds we get closest to most often, these convey unmistakable weight and bodily presence up close. At that range you feel their vulnerability and awkwardness when they shoulder themselves off the ground. Even setting aside their association with what they eat, in the body on the ground they can seem ugly—shaggy, hunched, misshapen, old—and their fleshy heads give them a vaguely naked look that seems bound to provoke recognition in the animal that recognizes nakedness. That’s what they do in this particular animal, anyway.

First published in The Missouri Review, October 2012.

Image: Image of Small flock of tiny birds flying by forest (Copyright: nick7634)

[kown]

akuol deng atem photographed by philip white for vogue polska

[undr]

Philip Jones Griffiths. A young couple seek a tender moment in a doorway, London. 1960s

[yrsonpurpose]

Hey, have I told you lately that you're brave?

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Click for more pictures

Atum (@rtsbts)

Miss Philip Marlowe (@girlfriendsofthegalaxy)

[bloatedandalone04]

It Comes Back

➪the one where you and lip are broken up (but not for long).

Warnings: swearing, shameless themes, mentions of alcohol, drinking, fake ass friends, angst, fluff, kissing (oh no), drunk reader, pet names.

Word Count: 3.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The pounding on the door never went away, despite Lip ignoring it for about five minutes now. If he didn’t do something about it soon, everyone in the house would wake up and he’d have a bigger problem to deal with. 

He sits up from his lying position and stands up from the couch, making his way towards the front door with an irritated look on his face. Swinging the door open, he was met with the annoyed faces of your friends, Daneel and Marissa. “Fucking finally,” Marissa muttered and it was then when Lip noticed your slouched form. Your arms were draped over your friends’ shoulders as you struggled to stand up properly. “Ever heard of opening a door?”

“I just did,” he replied and narrowed his eyes at the way they were both doing a piss poor job at keeping you upright. “What’s wrong with her?” He tried to hide his concern, but there was no denying that he was more than a bit worried at the state you were currently in.

“She can’t handle alcohol to save her life,” Daneel grunted as she pushed your arm off her. “That’s what’s wrong with her.”

Lip glared at her as he instinctively reached out to grab your wrist before you were sent stumbling back. “How much has she had to drink?” 

“Not a fucking clue,” Marissa laughed as she pushed you into the arms of your ex-boyfriend. “I lost count after her third beer.”

“Fuck,” he muttered as he held your nearly limp body against his chest with one hand. The other one reached up to brush away the messy strands of hair from your face, and his gaze softened at the sad expression you wore as you refused to meet his eyes. He looked back over at your friends and furrowed his brows when he saw that they were halfway down the stairs. “Hey, where the hell are you two going?”

“Back to the bar,” Daneel called back. “We just wanted to make sure Boozie over here got home safely.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t her house,” he pointed out, but his words didn’t seem to affect the two girls. 

“Right, you guys broke up, didn’t you?” Marissa laughed quietly and gave Daneel a shrug. “Maybe that’s why she was so depressed tonight.”

They both laughed at that before waving at Lip and walking down the street. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he wrapped your arm around his shoulder and guided you inside. He sat you down on the couch where he previously was, before heading back towards the door and peeking out at the retreating forms of your friends. He scoffed and flipped them off before shutting the door loudly. He usually didn’t bother with locking it when it was just him and his family there, but since you were only a few feet away from him and drunk, he found himself twisting the lock. 

Back in the living room, Lip finds your shivering form still on the couch. He noticed the way your arms were wrapped around yourself in an attempt to warm yourself up, so he took it upon himself to grab a blanket from off a pile of magazines that was near the window. 

He draped it across your shoulders and watched as you gave him a drunken, grateful smile, before he sat down next to you. He tried not to think about the last time he was on the couch with you, back when the two of you broke up and you left the house in tears. It was hard to think that the time before that was when he had the house to himself for once and fucked you into the very cushions you were sitting on. 

Lip had to hold back a groan at the memory of it. You were drunk and very clearly upset, and he needed to be there for you, despite it being just over a week and a half since you broke up.

“Thanks,” you murmur softly as you bury yourself in the blanket. As you inhaled the scent that was the Gallagher’s, your brows furrowed and your eyes closed a bit more. “Wait, why am I here?”

Lip shook his head and leaned back on the couch, his elbow pressing into the armrest as he huffed, “Because your so called friends are fucking idiots,” he muttered and turned his head to look at you. “I’ve told you that before, I don’t know why you hang out with them.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you give him a pathetic shrug. “Because they’re my friends,” you offer weakly and don’t have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes. 

“Friends don’t pull the kind of shit that they just did,” he mumbled and desperately wanted to light a cigarette right now, but he didn’t want to leave you unattended. “Fuck, I mean…we’re fucking friends, and I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t leave you.”

Lip wasn’t actually sure where he stood with you. You were exes, sure, but friends? He had no clue if you were even friends at this point, but the whole relationship had originally started out as a friendship, so it wasn’t like you two couldn’t go back to that, no matter how much he hated the thought of just being your friend. 

“I was ruining their night,” you weakly tried defending your friends while also calling yourself out. 

Lip scoffed. “They told you that?”

You shake your head and inch closer to him, your body beginning to feel weak with fatigue. “They didn’t have to,” you mumbled. “I could tell I was being a wallflower, and they shouldn’t have to babysit me all night long just because I can’t get my shit together.”

He shook his head at your words. You were always one to defend the fucking idiots in your life, himself included whenever you stuck your neck out for him when you were still together. He tried to ignore the way you leaned even closer to him and was barely able to keep yourself upright. “They shouldn’t have invited you out in the first place when they knew you weren’t in the right state of mind to drink as much as you did,” he said, before quickly adding. “Which was fucking dumb, by the way. What were you thinking? You can barely handle one beer, let alone three.”

You look down at his lap, embarrassment washing over you at his tone. You felt like he was your parent and lecturing you about sticking to your limit when out at the bar, but he really wasn’t much better. “I was thinking about you,” you mutter and see his head turn to face you out of the corner of your eye. “I’m always thinking about you, and for one night, just one fucking night, I wanted to forget. I want to forget you.” 

Lip felt his heart deflate a bit at that, but he knew you were completely wasted, and he held onto that fact. There was no way you meant that, right? You had been together for nearly two years before calling it quits, and he’d hate to think he hurt you so much that you were beginning to regret getting with him in the first place. 

He wasn’t able to wallow in self pity for much longer, as you continued before he could even think about how to respond to that, “I still want you, still love you and I wish I never met you,” 

Your words caught him off guard, and he really wanted that cigarette now. 

He looked over at you and felt his shoulders tense up at the sad expression you wore. You weren’t making any sense, and he could only hope you would feel up to talk to him about this in the morning, when you were sober. 

For a minute, Lip let himself go back to when you were both so happy and together. He found himself getting lost in how it felt to be so close to you again, and how much he missed being around you, how much he missed you. “You should get some sleep, baby,” the name slipped past his lips before he could even stop himself, so used to calling you that, but you didn’t seem to mind as you just nodded. “You’re going to feel fucked up tomorrow.”

You closed your eyes and leaned towards him. He was about to stand up so you could lay down properly on the couch, but stopped when you blindly reached out to push him back down. When he is sitting down again, you wrap the blanket further around you before laying your head down on his thigh and using it as a pillow. 

Lip couldn’t move now even if he wanted to, and he really didn’t, as you fell asleep almost instantly. He sighed as he ran his fingers through your hair and glanced at the clock. The time read 2:35 in the morning, and he wondered just how much of this you would remember when you woke up in a few hours. 

-

He woke up the next morning when Fiona had made her way down the stairs, her being the first of many Gallagher’s to wake up. He lifted his head up from where it had tilted back against the top of the couch sometime last night when he fell asleep, and groaned quietly at the stiff muscles in his neck.

As his older sister passed by the door frame, she stopped and backtracked when she caught sight of you with your head still resting on his thigh, and your arm draped over his knee. She furrowed her brows as she mouthed, “Are you back together?”

Lip shook his head and watched the glimmer of hope fade from her face as the sound of Ian bounding down the stairs was heard throughout the house. “Oh, shit,” he said in surprise when he, too, saw you on the couch. “Are you guys back together?” 

Fiona answered for her brother, “No, they’re not,” 

Ian looked confused as he asked, “Then why is she sleeping on you?”

“Her fuckhead friends dropped her off here last night,” Lip said and looked down at you, the movement making his neck ache but he didn’t mind it as he caught sight of the way your lashes fluttered against your cheek. “Apparently she ruined their fun by drinking too much.”

Fiona cringed as she grabbed a mug. “Poor girl,”

Debbie was next to walk down the stairs, and her loud morning voice was what woke you up. Lip’s thigh was sore as you slowly lifted your head from it, and he decided that he liked it when you fell asleep on his chest a lot better. 

Your eyes are barely open as you sit up and immediately cover your ears when Debbie notices you. “Is that Y/n?!” She asked excitedly and ran over to you. You had no time to process anything as she threw herself at you in an embrace. 

“Hi, Debs,” you mutter, clearly confused as you hardly return the hug before she pulls away. 

“Knock it off,” Lip says as he tugs his sister away from you, knowing that you weren’t at all a morning person and were probably refraining from going off on the kid for waking you up. 

“Yeah, Deb, lay off the sugar before bed,” Fiona says sternly as she hands you a mug. You take it from her and sip the coffee, grunting in disgust when you were met with a bitter taste. “Black coffee is the best way to reduce a hangover. Take it from me.” 

You slouch back against the couch as you hold the mug with both hands, still in the process of waking up. Glancing to your right, you notice Lip still sitting next to you. “What happened last night?” You ask as you try to recall how exactly you ended up on your ex-boyfriend’s couch. 

“You got drunk, like, really drunk, and Melissa and Danielle dropped you off here,”

“Melissa and Danielle?” You ask with a furrowed brow before realizing who he was talking about. “Oh, you mean Marissa and Daneel?”

“Same difference,” he muttered just as Carl came flying down the stairs in a mess of limbs.

He reached the bottom and shot up when he walked by the couch. “Oh, hey, Y/n,” he greeted you as if your presence here was a normal thing, and up until almost two weeks ago, it was. 

You give him a half-assed wave before closing your eyes tightly and praying that you will survive the pounding in your head. 

Fiona must have felt bad for you as she quickly gathered up a few lunch foods before throwing them in a couple of disposable brown bags. “Okay, time to let the drunk girl rest,” she said and guided Ian, Debbie, Carl and Liam towards the front door. “Time to go to school. Lip, I take it you’re staying home to look after her?” She nodded at you and he waved her off as he stood up. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got her,” he said and walked into the kitchen. 

Soon, the house was empty except for you and Lip, and you cower further into the couch as you listen to him rummage around in the next room. After drinking half of the gross coffee, you felt well enough to sit up properly and shrug the blanket off of you, hating how it smelled like your ex. 

You place the mug on the coffee table just as he exits the kitchen with a plate in his hand. He sits next to you again, though a bit further away than before, and holds the plate out to you. “Toast?” You ask as you eye the food, ignoring the flutter in your heart at the fact that he had made you some form of breakfast, despite him not needing to. 

“With jam,” he corrected with a quick smile before it was gone and you were shaking your head. “It’s all we have.”

“Thank you,” you take the plate from him and lift the toast up to your mouth, taking the smallest bite possible out of it. 

“So,” he starts as you chew the lightly toasted piece of bread, hating that he knew your toast preferences so well. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

You put the toast back onto the plate and think about it for a second, before shaking your head. “Not really,” you answer and set the plate down on your lap. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” he said, lifting his hand and massaging the stiffness out of the back of his neck. “Your scummy friends ditched you with me because you got drunk.”

You rolled your eyes and shove the plate back into his hands before grabbing the mug and standing up. “Just because you don’t like them, doesn’t mean they’re scummy,” you mutter and walk into the kitchen, finishing off the coffee and setting the mug down in the sink.

Lip scoffs as he bites into the toast he made for you. “No, them dropping you off at your ex-boyfriends house so they don’t have to keep an eye on you and to go get drunk makes them scummy,” he calls out to you and sets the half eaten toast on the plate, leaving it on the couch as he gets up to go after you. He finds you leaning against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest as you stare at him. 

You were still in the black dress you wore to the bar last night, and he was pretty sure that it was his favorite one, as he recalls complimenting you every time you wore it out with him. “They’re not so bad,” you say quietly, and Lip was about done with hearing you defend the people who abandoned you. 

“They’re the fucking worst,” he said, fed up. “I asked you this before, and even though you didn’t give me a decent answer then, I’m going to ask you again. Why the fuck do you continue to hang out with them?” 

You shrug pathetically as you avoid eye contact with him. “Because they’re all I have,”

Lip shakes his head at that, not happy with your answer at all as he leaned against the fridge across from where you were. “That’s bullshit,” he grunted. “You had me, you still have me. Why do you let them treat you like that? In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always let people walk all over you. Then you get pissed off with me when I call you out on it. Why?”

“It was too much,” you mumble and shake your head, crossing your arms tighter. “It felt so right with you, too right. You made this fucked up place seem. You, Fi, fuck, even Carl. You guys are a real family who look out for each other. I never had that, never felt like I deserved it. You know where I came from and what my life was like before I met you. That’s what I deserve, not this. Not you.”

Lip had never heard such nonsense in all his life. He had never heard you talk like that about yourself, and he quickly decided he didn’t like it. “You think you deserve to go back to that life? To how things were before I took you away from all that shit? You don’t,” he crossed his own arms, mirroring your stance as you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “You’re smart, but you’re also fucking dumb if you think I’m going to allow you to go back to that part of your life.”

You tried not to let his words affect you, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at how much he still clearly cared for you. “It’s not up to you,”

“Damn it, Y/n,” he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated at you now. “Why can’t you see yourself in the way that everyone else does? Daneel or Danielle or whoever the fuck she is dosn’t give a shit about you, and you shouldn’t give a shit about her, either.”

You knew he was right, you knew that Daneel and Marissa were the definition of fake friends, but you didn’t have much experience around those who cared for you. Between your friends, parents and your siblings, none of them treated you like how Lip and his family did. Could you really be blamed for believing that you weren’t worthy of him? “They’re all I have-”

“They’re not, baby,” he slipped up and called you by the name once again, but didn’t bother correcting himself as he stepped forward and grabbed your right hand in both of his. “They’re not and you know it. You have me, and my own fucked up family. You have us. You and me.”

You felt shy suddenly as you asked, “Still?” He places your hand flat against his chest so you could feel the steady beat of his heart, something that calms you down as you clarify your question. “I still have you?” 

“Yes,’’ he answered and you don’t bother holding back a sigh of relief. “You still have me.”

“I’m sorry,” you nearly whispered, despite the two of you being the only ones in the house. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he said back, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Fuck, breaking up was the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”

You hum in agreement as you bring your other hand up to rest against his chest while his reach down to grip your waist. “You regret it?”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed before pressing a quick kiss to the skin of your neck. “I haven’t been able to sleep without you, that’s why I was on the couch last night before you even got here.”

Your face heats up at that, as well at the feeling of his lips on your skin. “Really?” 

Lip hummed as his forehead returned to yours. 

“Well,” you trailed off as you slid your hands up his chest and set them on the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. “We might have to do something about that. When was the last time you slept for more than a few hours?”

“When did we break up?”

“A week and a half ago,”

“About a week and a half ago,” he answered and you grinned for a second before he was closing the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in nearly two weeks. 

[diioonysus]

dresses + art

[abbysidebitch]

I love this mission, they're so stupid

[beesnutz]

LIFE ON MARS (2006-2007)

[softestaura]

Akuol Deng Atem by Philip White for Vogue Polska December 2022 Issue

[jawstan]

we always talk about how carmy or lip eats pussy so fucking well and yes I agree, but let's thinking about jeremy and fuck i know he's devour it.

this man would be that man to own the 'eat pussy, it's vegan' shirt. he's so enthusiastic about it. i just know with my whole heart and soul he eats you like he's been starved for months. he's devouring you, for sure, and is deffo sloppy with it. this man isn't afraid to get messy during normal sex, so ofc he's going to practically drown himself in your arousal. theres so much spit it's soaking down to leave a rather large wet spot on the sheets. wants you to cum on his tongue and only his tongue, and god damn is he good with it. he's the type to playfully nip at your clit while you try to squirm away from him. says something along the lines of "don't run from me, m' just tryin' t'make ya feel good, sweetheart." and knowing that you're a whore for his nose, he would rubbing it so slowly in ur clit making you drip and cletch while uses that brute strength of his (god bless) to keep your thighs pinned and held over his shoulders until he's satisfied. does not accept his meal as finished until you're squirting and your voice has gone gravely from crying out his name.

[collageofnudes]

Simone Kowalski by Philip La Pepa

[calebsrottingcorpse]

Happy last day to be legally gay (ft. brain dead Wittebane doodle under the cut)