Moona-257 - Things Ive Lost On The Way Here

does he want you for what you are or does he want you for what you give

“They’re all angels.”

— Keanu Reeves when asked what type of girls he likes x

“You learn that the only way to get rock-star power as a girl is to be a groupie and bare your breasts and get chosen for the night. We learn that the only way to get anywhere is through men. And it’s a lie.”

— Kathleen Hanna, of Bikini Kill, Le Tigre, and The Julie Ruin

handing you an orange slice and saying here eat this, my love. the intimacy of the tiniest acts of love between us are deafening. you smile, mouthful of citrus saying thank you for the sweetness, honey. we say we love each other silently, in the small things and without even saying it.

tag yourself: autumnal/halloween edition 🥀♡

ghost maiden~ ♡ a castle shrouded in mist, playing chopin’s nocturnes by candlelight, early morning walks across frosty meadows, a white victorian nightdress with a wilting lily of the valley bouquet, bewailing the day you were abandoned at the altar, the ‘giselle’ ballet, tear-stained love letters thrown from the tower or into the icy lake...

19th century vampire~ ♡ attending the opera in a moth-eaten velvet gown and lace gloves, a cursive-inscribed first edition of ‘carmilla’ from your first lover, hosting elaborate feasts for the local nobility but only drinking red wine, a dusty french boudoir of old treasures: vintage glass bottles of perfume and antique art, reminiscing with byron and wilde...

forest-born witch~ ♡ mushroom picking at night, a cat-shaped familiar composed of shadow (named circe), singing in latin to our lady the moon or hekate, velvet spell bags of herbs and tumbled smoky crystals, casting off one’s earthly form to step through the incense veil into the world of spirits, a cauldron of stewed apples and blackberries for teatime (guests include the grimm and medea)...

academic-turned-detective~ ♡ ancient ink-blotted manuscripts of homer’s odyssey, solving a century-old murder mystery, pearl buttoned blouses and shabby oxfords, wandering a cemetery with hot cider or cinnamon cocoa, haunting gloomy chapels on rainy afternoons, melting wax to seal a hand inked letter to an old friend...

angel of sweet death~ ♡ a lovely-hearted heartbreaker, worn out ballerina slippers and a black silk slip (with a cashmere cardigan for the evening), ‘girl’s night’: black and white horror films and devil’s food cake, tying a velvet ribbon to a tree branch as to not get lost in the enchanted forest, follower of lana del rey and stevie nicks, weeping tiny black pearls and coughing up dried rose petals...

https://www.instagram.com/p/B2QGigMgA9j/?igshid=mq9ym29p2mhg

‘Being a Woman is Inherently Uncanny’: An Interview With Carmen Maria Machado | Hazlitt

texts between angels trying to live as mortals by keaton st. james