#stevie.

[exspiritment]

@wristful // stevie said: a kiss on the corner of the mouth 

Nobody’s using you, baby she had said. And maybe she thought she could mean it at the time — but Stevie is a drug user, and Spirit is a people user, and these are things that will always get in the way of just about anything else. 

Andrew wouldn’t let her do this. Droopy and drunk and rambling — he would tell her to say what’s really on her mind or just go to sleep, start fresh tomorrow. He wouldn’t let her sit in his lap, play with his hair. She rests her head on the curve of his shoulder, lets herself feel the warmth. Lets herself pretend. 

Even when she looks up at him, she is disoriented enough to keep pretending. 

And so she kisses him — perhaps missing his mouth on purpose to gauge his reaction, perhaps having awful aim. She kisses the left side of his lips once. Twice. 

She pulls away to see what he says, if anything — disturbingly lucid, disturbingly vulnerable.

[consumare]

family over everything. feat. @stagstalked & @roseguided.

[amaranthaes]

[text] I ate the whole wheel of cheese. Help.

[   📲  bibbles  ]  :  meus  deuses

[   📲  bibbles  ]  :  como  assim?

[   📲  bibbles  ]  :  tudo  mesmo??

[   📲  bibbles  ]  :  mano  kkkkkkkk

[   📲  bibbles  ]  :  ainda  bem  que  eu  não  durmo  contigo  lol

[   📲  bibbles  ]  :  você  precisa  de  um  remédio  pra  intolerância? 

[whimsigothwitch]

Window appreciation post

[breathtakinglymiraculous]

Only when your girlish glow, flickers just so, do they let you know: It's hell on earth to be heavenly. Them's the breaks, they don't come gently. Clara Bow - The Tortured Poets Department (2024)

[tswiftupdatess]

Stevie Nicks wrote a poem for “THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT”

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

You look like Stevie Nicks

in ‘75, the hair and lips

[lazylittledragon]

t4t steddie my Beloved

[milfzatannaz]

a beautiful Klimt-inspired Stevie Nicks commission for my forever fav client @gayiconjamesflint 🌻🌻

[artrealla]

read this fic for steve losing his fucking mind

[sophsun1]

Like a heartbeat... drives you mad,

In the stillness of remembering what you had

And what you lost...

And what you had...

And what you lost...

Thunder only happens when it's raining

Fleetwood Mac - Dreams

[exspiritment]

@wristful​

a headache is splitting behind his eyes; really pounding, the kind that makes you dizzy and sick and makes it hard to look at headlights in the dark. fuck he needs -- well. she knows what he needs.

"isn't that supposed to be my line?"    

he jitters on his feet, rocks back and forth, settles when a car drives past a little slower than he'd like; it's harlem, people don't look too hard, but it's not hunts point and he knows the bronx like the back of his hand. stevie itches. his fingernails are so bitten down that it doesn't make a damned bit of difference when he tries scratch over his neck and ears and head.

"i got what you asked me for -- you got what i asked for?"

“This is bad. All I’m getting at is that this is bad.” 

She feels that, knows that to be true. But she also knows herself, and she knows that who she is — it’s the type of person who doesn’t really, truly, give a shit. About the badness of it all, that is. 

Cars go by. People a block over, they talk about fuck knows what. Spirit steps close to Stevie like a lover, slips something into his front pocket. He’s tall, with the sort of build you’d expect. She looks small and harmless while she might be slowly killing him. 

“But I’ve got you. I’ve got you, always.” 

[consumare]

STEVIE GRAHAM: NICE TO HEAR YOUR VOICE. 'and yours, mia figlia. i was not sure when i would hear from you again,' he's allowed very few moments of peace, even less time on the phone, and so he is truly pleased to hear from will's daughter. now someone he saw as his, as well. will may refuse to pay him any mind, but at least hannibal knew he still had a connection to the graham family. 'your father would be angry, if he found out we were speaking,' but it was not a scold. the grin could be heard in his voice, eyes glancing over the guard that watched over his cage before giving his attention back to the phone. 'how are you doing, dear heart? are you behaving?' @roseguided.

[wasahothouseflower]

The future’s bright, dazzling

[whimsigothwitch]

Stevie nicks 1982

[53v3nfrn5]

Stevie Nicks holding a copy of Frank Herberts ‘Dune’ after a concert in Amsterdam (1977)