Unknown beat group bassist, 1964. From the Budapest Municipal Photography Company archive.
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i want simon to love you so strongly, he doesn't even know what exactly it is he's feeling.
it is so intense, he cannot even sleep nor eat nor sit in silence anymore. you plague his thoughts day in and day out, filling every second of his day with this vitriolic turmoil.
the first time he realized it was not a passing feeling, simon felt the desire to...lash out, somehow. to get angry. to come to you and snarl questions—what have you done to me?—because he knows that this wouldn't have happened if he never met you. if your paths just never crossed.
if simon was just never interested.
he should have known, then, that his fleeting interest would turn into something bigger than he is, twisting into something that he cannot manage because simon has always been quick to get addicted to many things—ferocious in his hunger, gums twitching with need.
simon still does not know how to take everything in moderation so he’s turned to snuffing out his desires; to containing them until they sit there, buried underneath his ribs and flesh.
but this one with you cannot be buried. it cannot be ignored. it grows every single day, swelling with fangs and tearing into his veins—he bleeds for you, every morning that he climbs from the depths of his raging restlessness—until he is left feeling lost. untethered.
so tell him: what have you done to him?
(the words do not even get to fully leave his mouth, not with his emotions bubbling into strings that pull at him.
next thing he knows is that he has pushed you against the wall, and claimed your lips in a feverish kiss.
simon devours the sounds you make—every hiccupped breath, every gasped out mewl, every stutter of his name. he devours it all because it is all he can gulp from you for now; the sweetness of your passion weaves with his own, and he is dizzy with his affections.
you don't tell him to stop, instead, you beg him for more; crystals of your tears cling to your lashes, and simon is in awe of how much softer you are compared to him. how tender you truly are, all putty in his arms, sniffling with your uncontainable pleasure. with your own raging feelings.
simon feels seen, like this with you. he feels understood.)
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actually I have a second thought about eboy anime twunk slade and it’s that he’s so funny people complaining are just cowards.
this is Absolutely what a man who is definitely gonna lose to newbie superman, be divorced, dodge paying child support, and commit himself to inventing new levels of toxic parenting and beefing with teenagers forever looks like
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Billposter for The Action live at the Goldhawk Beat Club, Shepherd’s Bush, Friday 10th September 1965. From the Budapest Municipal Photography Company archive.
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