#✧┊« musings || penny

[mccoyquialisms]

thinking about riz and his love for the bad girls, and how if anyone fucks with them, then sooner or later they’re gonna answer to riz gukgak

[suspensefulpen]

You know you’re a writer when you’re in some situation, no matter how serious/dire or mundane/boring and you say to yourself “i wanna/needa write about this”

[lillazyboithings]

finally redrew the one and only after almost a year of drawing her. I am redoing my "penny lamb to the slaughter" challenge entry (credits to @cardinaldust for the challenge)

ngl i definitely deviated from the original concept i was going for but i just wanted to draw her again

its half-assed, i did it inless than a few hours, and I am tiredbc i stayed up until 2 am and woke up at 8 lezgoooooo

[urbadmami]

A muses life is never easy

[distance-does-not-matter]

sincerity is perhaps the most important thing in the world

[theajaheira]

JUST GOT MINT AND BLUEBERRY GLAVORED POCKY . IM MENTALLY WELL NOW

[mariposiel]

LMK S4 Spoilers

What do you mean this isn’t how it happened

[ad0rati0ns]

open to: anyone!

verse: fantasy/period

plot: the princess (or governor's daughter) has made a happen of sneaking out at night to the village below. tonight, she tries out the tavern. that's it, that's the plot.

"well...this is definitely not champagne," she mutters, her face twisting in disgust. "and people come here to drink this...willingly?" the young woman stares at the dark brown ale in her cup in confusion.

[luminescenc1e]

Mister Chandler, when stripped from his cowboy persona was very intuitive. A great asset and gift, one that she did not feel particularly grateful for at the moment. A shiver passed over her, a kind of cold settling itself in the pit of her stomach. One that had nothing to do with the weather or the winter months. She had foolishly hoped that she had bested the wretched demon that held her in his rains for so long, that at last, she was free to resume her life or start it anew.

Finally able to reach out and almost touch the normality that was all around, in every mother with her unruly child, in every chimney sweep, and in all the small fruit stalls where customers carefully picked out deliciously ripe apples. But it was perhaps her own punishment, that she would never fully be able to be part of that life.

“ Ethan…” She says on the exhale as they make their way down the cobblestone street. It was rather late at night and Sir Malcolm had asked them to meet at the London Zoo. “ I don’t want to lie, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid to speak of these things, afraid if I mention them, it would lure them to me once again. Afraid of what might happen. Afraid of who I might hurt. ” She looks at him now with a tenderness that she should conceal but does not want to, or does not know how. “ You understand, don’t you? ”

fullintenticns asked: ‘you can't lie to me. i can tell when you're lying.’ For Vanessa from Ethan / MEME - accepting.

[athl3tes]

@epigraphed // closed for gideon !!

⸻   had   it   been   anybody   else   ,   perhaps   she   wouldn’t   have   been   as   precise   with   the   movements   she’d   asked   from   him   .   medical   prowess   had   been   recruited   from   the   private   practice   she’d   proudly   served   in   a   small   arizonan   city   .   now   ,   atop   gently   swaying   new   york   penthouse   ,   she’d   delivered   her   knowledge   to   someone   more   deserving   .   clad   ,   practically   swimming   in   white   and   black   jersey   .   gold   accents   pay   divine   attention   to   the   dips   and   curves   in   her   petite   frame   .   bolded     schneider     curved   across   her   back   .   ❝   in   the   past   ,   did   you   have   all   your   physiotherapists   work   in   your   jersey   ?   ❞   she   questioned   in   faux   curiosity   .   painted   nails   scraping   gently   over   flexed   back   muscles   ,   gently   pushing   firm   calf   until   it   met   his   thigh   .   then   releasing   it   tenderly   .   ❝   i   have   to   know   ,   do   entertain   me   .   ❞

[littlequeenies]

January 1995 - Author and actress Marsha Hunt, who founded the SAGA prize to give a voice to black British and Irish writers, pictured in Kent, Folkestone by Penny Tweedie.

Black and white photos are scans from March 1995 "Country Living" magazine.

Editorial photos come from alamy and camera press.

[thisgusting]

she wants to hear those club classics..

[penniesfortheferryman]

Like for me to send you some memes.

[periodcostumefantasylover]

[justabandaid]

If it weren’t for the groupies who passionately loved artists and their music, some of the greatest songs would never have been written.

Although flattering, I must admit that being the topic of someone’s lyrics is weird. It’s like having your secret diary sung in public

[distance-does-not-matter]

I need to give my unnamed space opera girlie (ironic phrase, for she’s one of many) a friend. She deserves it