"I’ve collaborated with one of my only Idols William Burroughs and I couldn’t feel cooler."
Cobain visiting Burroughs' home in October 1993. / Kurt Cobain, Journals
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Happy 101st birthday to my problematic fave Jack Kerouac ✨
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You feel sick in the greatest sense of the word. Breathing without believing in it. Sick, sick, sick. Your soul groans.
Jack Kerouac, Big Sur 1962
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mornings
john lennon x reader
(era: teddy boy? or any era you would like.)
warnings: NO MATURE CONTENT, fluff, pet names?
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john cursed silently as he accidentally put his hand onto the hot pan to feel if it was warm enough to start the eggs. it was. he was too focused on the burning sensation that he didn’t acknowledge you, his lovely girlfriend of 2 years, padding down the stairs, until you wrapped your arms around his torso.
“hey, baby.” you sleepily mumbled into his shoulder blades, he was still wearing his pyjamas. john was a morning person, very cautious to get to bed ON TIME and out of bed exactly at 7:30am on weekends (6:30am on weekdays.).
“the bloody pan was two hot!” he cried out, turning around and shoving his hand into your face, which you sleepily looked over.
“stop yer wining and stop vigorously moving yer hand so i can actually look at it!” you exclaimed, gently taking hold of his wrist to inspect. you lead him over to the sink and ran cold water over the now red and irritated skin.
“you should know how to treat burns.” you smiled slightly at his piercing glare at the pan on the stove. you kissed his hand after a few minutes of running it under water, and brought out some gauze and carefully wrapped the skin.
“thanks, love.” he muttered, his nasally scouse accent is one of the things that made you fall head over heels for him, not that he was popular, or any such things like that. you ruffled his messy chocolate brown hair.
you took over the cooking for now, as he watched the telly in the living room.
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(p.s, i had to re post this bc it was tagged as mature 😭😭)
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"Sweetheart / when you break thru / you’ll find / a poet here / not quite what one would choose."
Read it here | Reblog for a larger sample size!
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"There is nothing more provocative than minding your own business."
- William S. Burroughs
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I was capable of falling in love with anybody at a glance, but I hadn't told anybody that I was queer. I hadn't said anything about my love life to anybody because I was afraid I'd be rejected, afraid I'd be put down, just too timid, afraid of being ashamed. It seemed so delicate and personal and eccentric that if I did tell people what my love was like it might be like turning over a stone and seeing the worms underneath.
Allen Ginsberg, The Best Minds of My Generation - A Literary History of the Beats
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had to google moloch the child-sacrificing fallen-angel’s pronouns for this one so yk the paper’s gonna be good
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