* dream girl evil

A compilation of French artist Hubert de Lartigue’s stunning hyperrealistic lip paintings, all acrylic on canvas.

Lin had been a bit grumpy half the morning now, complaining about the sun in her face (she had forgotten her sunglasses at home), how cold it had gotten (it absolutely wasn't, and she was already wearing a vintage leather jacket, complete with a pair of matching gloves), how her feet hurt her (it had been her choice to wear thigh high-heeled boots at the farmer's market.) She squealed when she almost stumbled over the edge of the sidewalk, her hand grabbing messily onto his bicep, then took a moment, counting down from 10 in her head, closing her eyes and exhaling sharply. "Yes! Yes, let's just get some coffee now. My head is fucking killing me." she overexaggerated again, her nose scrunched up.

"Come on..." Lin did not wait for an answer; she grabbed his arm and led them towards the nearest café, making him carry her bags, saying "they are too heavy, my wrists hurt!" her voice all grumble-y and thin, impatient; she could complain all she wanted about the sun in her face and the "cold weather", but the truth was... she had just not been okay for a while... had been strange, too quiet, not going out as often as she usually would...

彡 Aya Shalkar icons

location; NYC botanical garden

A mixture of curiosity and amusement crossed her face, highlighted by a subliminal playfulness as she immediately paused her antics to look back at him.

“have I ever been around here before? Mmm, I don't know, let me think about it...” she repeated the question back to Austin in a playfully taunting way that meant to mess with him, shockingly bright blue eyes squinting in deep thought as she pretended to consider the question. "Have I ever like...breathed?" The duh!, going unsaid.

the sudden appearance of someone at her side and a hand frantically grabbing onto hers, nearly sends Lin tumbling over the pavement. She has all of twenty seconds to express her shock, a sharp, quick gasp spilling from cherry-red lips, and then, as the other woman pretty much begs for her help, her surprise quickly morphs into a torrid mixture of disbelief and concern. She exhales, tucking strands of silky black hair behind her ear, unsticking a curl from her lips (sweet and wet with lipgloss).

Okay, this is weird, she thinks, but hey...weirder things have definitely happend and, then again, Lin is nothing if not quick on her feet so in the seconds that follow, a languid, sweet expression smoothly replaces the shock on her face and she is easily slipping into protective mode; she would never deny a girl her help.

She tightens her hold on her hand and threads their fingers together, smiling in a very sleek, coy way as she leads them towards the window of a nearby pastry shop. "Do you want something sweet?" She asks, voice sweet and unwavering, completely in character. God, she hates men.

She rubs her thumb against the back of her hand, then says, this time softer, her voice a firm, whispery drawl "don't worry."

James was beyond thankful when the record shop owner decided to take a chance on him. Knowing that it was probably rather risky to hire an army vet with a brain issues to work in their shop. But if there was one thing he had always been passionate about, had loved was music. So it was a perfect fit and James loved getting the chance to talk all things music with the people that came in throughout the day. Currently though, it was just him in the shop. Perched on the back counter, his fingers tapping along to the beat of the jazzy tune that played over the speakers. Which he might have cranked up a bit too loud since it was just him. Barely hearing the jiggle of the bell above the door to let him know someone had walked in. Instantly reaching over to turn it down some. "Sorry about that, anything I can help you with today?" He asked, pushing off the back counter and walking over towards the front one, leaning on his forearms as he spoked to them.

After her morning classes, Lin locked up the studio and, instead of heading back home, she decided to go on a walk around the area; she would have to go back to work in a couple of hours anyway, and she didn't wanna have to drive through traffic twice. She stopped at a cute little new bakery and got some butterscotch candies, then had an idle roam about the neighborhood, soaking up the sunlight.

She was in a kind of sour mood, had had a headache all day long and no amount of coffee or aspirin had been able to help. She hadn't been sleeping much, hadn't been resting enough, and with summer turning into fall, packing up to move into a new apartment and the studio reopening, it had all felt a little too much...

Lin entered the record store down the street, heading towards the vinyls section... it was a bit chillier outside now and she was wearing her pleated twill coat but she quickly began to warm up inside the shop, so she began to remove it. She looked kind of... out of place: like a renaissance painting bought to life. She had got this long dark curly black hair that fell all the way down to her back and limpid blue eyes, and she was wearing all black and this slash of velvet red lipstick.

She neither flinched nor smiled when she was approached, cutting her eyes to the employee, giving him a pleasant look.

"oh... Yeah, uh, sure. I'm just kinda... browsing but I would like to maybe find something... I don't know. Unique? Something surprising." And then, with the hint of a smile kissing the edge of her lips "you're new here? Don't think I've seen you before." She was obviously kind of a regular.

Aya Shalkar - 6 avatares.

—but he doesn’t say it because he has to, it is not some sort of obligation he feels to tell her what he thinks she wants to hear from him; his initial thought is she doesn’t want to hear anything about it. he really is sorry for not having protected her, for having failed her; having let them both down —and it fucking sucks. as a firefighter he has saved countless of lives, people he doesn’t even know, always done the impossible in order to help someone in need, and when someone that close to him needed that, a small miracle….everything crumbled. he pays the price of losing Chloe every single day. no amount of words is nearly enough to describe the hell he’s been through; the absolute chaos of it that still goes on in his head. he keeps holding on to those memories of her like some sort of lifeline; feels like he is holding on to everything and nothing all at the same time. and he is not proud he has some nerve to sit here across from her, it makes him feel guilty, ashamed; an immense, bottomless sense of it for having moved on; how can he look at her? how can he admit that he does go on living when he took that away from her sister?

it takes a great amount of effort to look at her. he owes her that; to see her suffering, too, instead of sitting here literally drowning in his own grief and guilt. she shouldn’t even want to see him again, not talk to him, and he can’t bring himself to bear witness to her suffering, feeling it will be too great for him to handle on top of trying not to suffocate from it all.

She misses Chloe, too; there is nothing inside of her that does not miss her; she does not miss her like an idle thought; she misses her like where am I going to get warm, where am I going, where am I going without you... she misses her like there are no more happy moments without her, like the whole world is empty.

She misses her like grief; like she is missing from her; fully, without capacity, daunting.

Her death is something she lives with every day, living and breathing and moving through the world like she has left something behind, some sadness that glues itself to her insides like a disease: part of her has died with Chloe too.

But she is still here; both of them are; she owes it to Chloe to be okay. She owes it to her to try to be happy and not lose it; honor her death by staying clean and away from alcohol or drugs or whatever fucking else may numb her pain for a while; she has to feel it. Feel it deeply and fully, the pain, and live for it. For her.

So she does. And yeah, maybe she hasn't been doing a great job of it, maybe she hasn't achieved much this year, but she has finally begun to learn what it is to be true to herself; who she is. Her eyeliner wings are perfect. She looks great in red lipstick. Her thigh high boots are killer. She is still here, alive and trying, in love and won't let grief turn her heart into stone.