Untitled, New York, Photo By Francesca Woodman, 1979-80

Veronica Sawyer costume from Heathers

me nd my besties new bracelets after i forced him to read tsoa 😋

hearst castle, san simeon ca //

Vent comic about female beauty

'The Silent Voice' by Gerald Moira, c. 1893.

the song of Achilles

listening to donald trump speak is like nails on a fucking whiteboard

Lucas pats the grass beside him. Lady obeys and sits down next to him. They are close, Lady can hear her neighbor’s breathing. Lucas looks at Lady, admiring her features. He reaches his hand across the grass timidly, their fingers touch gently. 

     Lady takes notice of this and looks at Lucas with a longing, his shirt is tighter than usual and she sees the wrap underneath to bind his chest. She put her hand back into her lap quickly. Lucas’s smile dropped.

     “Lady,” he pauses, “what do you think of me?” She looked at him again,

     “What do you mean?” 

Lucas looks down at his chest, and back to Lady.

     “I know you think that there’s something wrong with me.” Lady fidgeted with the locket around her neck.

     “I don’t think you're ill. I’m just worried about you,” she tilted her head slightly, as if to examine him. “I’m afraid I won’t see you in Heaven.”

     “Oh, Lady.” Lucas’ eyes softened and his face became sympathetic, “I’m going to Hell either way.” Lady’s eyes watered.

     “No, you’re a good person.” Lucas laughed a bit, a lump formed in his throat.

     “Hun, we're all going to Hell. No one in this town is really a good person, at least not how God sees it.” Lucas reached for Lady’s hand, she allowed him to take it.

“I honestly think you’re a fucking angel Lady, believe me. But you don’t think you’re good enough. You’ll never be good enough to them [Lady’s parents].” Tears fell down Lady’s face. 

“I love you Lady.”

     “I can’t love you Lucas.”

     “I know.”

     Lady let go of his hand and looked to the sky again.

“You didn’t say you didn’t love me.” Lucas looked for something in her face, something in her eyes, something that would tell him how she really felt.

     “That’s because I don’t not love you,” Lady wiped her face with her sleeve.

“I do,” she gasped and began to cry, “I do Lucas, but I can’t.” 

     Lucas pulled her into an embrace.

     “You can Lady.”

     “But what about God?” Her grip tightened.

     “God can’t hurt us here,” Lucas let go of the embrace to look into Lady's eyes, “if loving you is a sin, then maybe Heaven isn’t really worth it.” 

     Lady sobbed, “but Lucas I want to go to Heaven.”

     “To me you are Heaven, is that enough for you?”

     “I don’t know what to tell you, Lucas, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m dirty and sinful and I’m trying my hardest to be worth something, anything.”

     “You’re worth everything to me.”

     “Does God really care about any of us in this cruel world?”

     “I don’t know Lady, I don’t know.” 

     Lady stood up and grabbed her bag to leave. Lucas quickly got up after her.

    “Lady..?”

    “This isn’t going to work, Lucas. I’m sorry, but you knew this was always how it was going to end.” She frowned at him.

     Lucas watched her leave. He always knew it was going to end like this; and he couldn’t do anything about it. All he could do was watch her leave. 

     And that’s what he did. No goodbyes, he didn’t deserve that pleasure. Because after all she was right, he was a sinner.

Everything Sad is Untrue, Daniel Nayeri / Cain Slaying Abel (~1640-1650), Gioacchino Assereto / The Sacrifice of Isaac (1616), Pedro Orrente / Crucified Christ (1896), Viktor Vasnetsov

Monet's pink paintings.