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Favourite girlfail this year

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Here's some for food for yall!!

My next post might be more Paranormal Investigators au (specifically involving the caramelldansen 👀)

Or art of Phoebes Happy Family au because THE LORE GOT DAMN

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Hold fast. Brave the storm

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@queermystic here's your unhinged gals

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august slipped away into a moment in time

TAYLOR SWIFT — AUGUST

the eras tour — tampa, florida ( april 13, 2023 )

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it’s them <3

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Mama I'm in love with the devil

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just the warrior nun and her sister warriors

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Pinkpantheress by Lewis Vorn for Altpress

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Nevermore characters based from Edgar Allan Poe’s works

Lenore (from the poem “The Raven”)

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly, I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Nameless here for evermore.

Annabel Lee (from the poem “Annabel Lee”)

It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.

Morella (from the gothic horror short story “Morella”)

With a feeling of deep yet most singular affection I regarded my friend Morella. Thrown by accident into her society many years ago, my soul, from our first meeting, burned with fires it had never known. But the fires were not of Eros—and bitter and tormenting to my eager spirit was the gradual conviction that I could in no manner define their unusual meaning, or regulate their vague intensity. Yet we met, and Fate bound us together at the altar, and I never spoke of love, or dreamed of passion. She, however, shunned society and attaching herself to me alone rendered me happy. It is a happiness to wonder. It is a happiness to think.

Duke (from the humorous short story “The Duc de L’Omelette”)

A golden cage bore the luxurious little wanderer, enamoured, melting, indolent, to the Chaussee D’Antin, from its home in far Peru. From its queenly possessor La Bellissima, to the Duc de L’Omelette, six peers of the empire conveyed the happy bird. It was ‘All for Love.’

Ada (from the poem “Tamerlane”)

One noon of a bright summer’s day I pass’d from out the matted bow’r Where in a deep, still slumber lay My Ada. In that peaceful hour, A silent gaze was my farewell. I had no other solace—then T’awake her, and a falsehood tell Of a feign’d journey, were again To trust the weakness of my heart To her soft thrilling voice: To part Thus, haply, while in sleep she dream’d Of long delight, nor yet had deem’d Awake, that I had held a thought Of parting, were with madness fraught; I knew not woman’s heart, alas! Tho’ lov’d, and loving—let it pass.—

Prospero (from the short story “The Masque of the Red Death”)

The “Red Death” had long devastated the country. No pestilence had been ever so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avator and its seal — the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleedings at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest-ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease were the incidents of half an hour. But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless, and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince’s own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair from without or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballêt-dancers, there were musicians, there were cards, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death.”

Pluto (from the short story “The Black Cat”)

Pluto—this was the cat’s name—was my favorite pet and playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about the house. It was even in difficulty that I could prevent him from following me through the streets.

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Salt air…

Swifties:

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I wanted to draw Robin but google kept showing me this picture of Maya.

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Robin + suit

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i can’t believe childhood is over.

— little women (2019) / dead poets society (1989)

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john william waterhouse details.