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Richard Trousdell

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Laura Footes (British, 1991) - Spring Awakening with Two Entwined Trees (2024)

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roberto cavalli f/w 2004, angela lindvall by mario testino

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Arslan Ahmedov, Nyx (2013)

from here

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Giulia Costanzo

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in the words of miss swift, only bought this dress so you could take it off 💙

ref from yuna ishizawa ☺️

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@kylo-wrecked

Three questions for three - plus two demands. He levelled them at her from beneath a monolith of intent. In reply, she perched, newly uncowled, upon his smoulder and peered in.

"Baby - " the word slipped off her tongue in his accent, followed by single laugh that bubbled from her like a soul in a hot spoon. It brushed against his lower lip and hung there, humming.

Brunnhilde had been called Queen. Commander. Champion. Bitch. She had killed kings and brought realms to heel. But - 'baby'. Oh, ' baby' was new. She pinched it between an incisor and her lower lip and was surprised to find it sweet. Sweet and biting, like a cherry at the bottom of a whiskey glass.

"Careful, Ben... " her fingers skimmed his ribcage, settling where another bone might have been - had the first man not been so lonely. She traced its absence, gaze piercing the new god on a column of dilated black and blue. "You're showing your hand."

His nostrils spilled smoke, prowling and cursing and pulsing. It would never be just a kiss. Never just sex. It would be some tantric, unholy thing. A burned glass bulb. A finger in the gumline. A ghost on a bathroom sink. You cannot come back from fucking a god.

The rain picked up. The cigarette drowned. Brunnhilde placed the taste of cherries upon Ben's tongue. "Here," a murmur into his teeth, his mercy "is your little kiss."

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Lana Del Rey, from her song titled "Henry, Come On," released in April 2025

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Maysa Bogheiri

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ILLUSION MESH BODYSUIT from Venus

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LEÓN FERRARI Espiral, 1983, Heliograph, 23⅝ x 23⅝ in.60 x 60 cm.

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Emily Dickinson, from her poem titled "1188," featured in The Emergency Poet

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Klim Shakhnin