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Drawing Richard Papen pouting and consistently pissed off the way god intended

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100% agree

The Secret History is a comedy. I don't care what anyone says.

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call me Bunny Corcoran the way I’m about to. bullshit my way through all of my final essays.

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bunny

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i love when my two pookies play and I'm here like: I hope they both win

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woah! such a nice fanart

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: ai makes art accessible!

ART HAS ALWAYS BEEN ACCESSIBLE!!

yo, i borrowed gouache and a brush from my friend and painted this in an hour

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The Secret History set in the modern day and everything is the same except Francis has no less than four strawberry ice vapes on his person at all times

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something peculiar

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ur so on point here

Francis absolutely hates gardening. Hates dirt, hates bugs, hates the sun, hates the concept of manual labor in general. Henry, on the other hand, is disturbingly indifferent to it. He doesn’t enjoy it, necessarily, but he approaches it with the same patience and precision he applies to everything else. The plants need tending, so he tends to them. It’s that simple.

Francis, however, spends most of the time loudly complaining, which Henry ignores completely. The worst part is that Francis is right—he does burn easily, he does sweat like a sinner in church, and the whole thing is miserable. But Henry refuses to acknowledge this because, deep down, he thinks it’s funny. Not that Francis would ever catch him smiling about it, but there’s something deeply entertaining about watching him flail dramatically under the summer sun, sighing like he’s about to perish.

At first, Francis tries to be useful. He grabs a trowel, kneels down next to Henry, and stabs at the dirt half-heartedly before immediately recoiling in horror at the realization that it’s actual dirt. He spends the next five minutes inspecting his hands like he’s just been personally victimized. Henry doesn’t even look up.

Francis tries weeding next, only to accidentally grab a plant that wasn’t a weed, at which point Henry, without even glancing over, calmly says, “That was a flower.” Francis looks down at the now-ruined plant, back at Henry, and then tosses it aside with a huff, declaring that he never wanted to do this in the first place.

It gets worse when he realizes he’s sweating. Henry, of course, remains perfectly composed, looking like he belongs in some untouched century while Francis feels like he’s being cooked alive. His shirt sticks to his back, his skin starts turning red, and he keeps wiping at his forehead dramatically, waiting for Henry to acknowledge his suffering. Henry never does.

At some point, Francis just gives up. He slinks over to the porch, dramatically throwing himself onto a chair like a sickly Victorian child, and watches Henry work with the sharp, judgmental gaze of a man who is determined to be as unhelpful as possible. He occasionally tosses out commentary, just to be annoying—You’re doing that wrong. That’s ugly. I think you’re killing them. Henry doesn’t react, which only makes Francis more determined.

By the end of the afternoon, Francis is half-asleep in the shade, hair a mess, arms crossed as he sulks over the sheer injustice of it all. He’s vaguely aware of Henry approaching him, something being dropped onto his lap. He blinks down at it. A hat. One of those ridiculous wide-brimmed sun hats his aunt keeps around.

Henry doesn’t say anything. He just walks past him like he hasn't just personally declared war.

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I may have made a absolutely heartbreaking Mclennon edit

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francis abernathy loves placebo

send the post.

no i mean it. especially sleeping with ghosts.

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Leaving Mclennon and theories aside. I can understand why John was so angry with Yesterday. If I was in a band and my colleague showed the most beautiful song in the world and said he dreamed of it, I would break a guitar over his head.

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John and Paul ❤️

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I love toxic queer characters I love queer characters who are allowed to do terrible things and be complex and fucked up I love queer characters who perpetuate abuse and trauma I love queer characters who contribute to cycles of abuse I love queer characters who are part of the systems that harm queer people I love queer characters who have internalized ideas that are harmful to or oppose queerness I love queer characters who make themselves a slave to their passion I love queer characters who force themselves into stereotypes and others ideas of being queer I love queer characters who are flawed and messy and problematic

I also love when queer characters have to reckon with their flaws I love when queer characters have to unlearn their own prejudice and hate to truly be liberated I love when queer characters are punished for their bad choices I love when queer characters work to change and make amends I love when queer characters break cycles of abuse I love when queer characters grow and learn I love when queer characters get to be complex and human and get to grow and heal and also cause harm because people and their life experiences aren’t perfect and linear and unproblematic and life is too complicated and all encompassing to make simple and clear and inherently good and moral

I love when queer characters aren’t denied the true multifaceted and all-encompassing and real reality of life

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been thinking the same thing but about the trees by twenty one pilots

this song was made for winterpapen, can’t convince me otherwise

ahhhhh donna i need to do an edit with henry and richard to this song it's time to release the movie 🙏🏻🙏🏻

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I like to think that, in their first year at Hampden, before they got closer to the other Greek students or even after they had already become a group, Henry and Bunny were very much a unit.

Yes, they lived together, but they also did everything together, like Bunny would wait for Henry after class, and after he switched his major, they’d show up together and leave together. They’d have lunch together and take walks together and study together, and Bunny would force Henry to accompany him to the movies or some other place Henry abhorred. And sometimes they’d fall asleep in the same bed after they had spent the whole night talking and laughing and drinking, because crossing the room to get into one’s own bed was simply too much effort. 

You see, Bunny very much strikes me as a touchy kind of guy without thinking much of it. He’d often throw an arm around Henry or put his head on Henry’s shoulder when he was tired or bored or link arms with him while walking. And Henry, while not exactly all that keen on physical contact, would just go along with it and in return use Bunny’s back as a base for writing or casually reach over him to grab a pen. 

They were best friends in every way. They’d talk about their fears and hopes, or at least Bunny, about how he was afraid of seeming insufficient next to his brothers, or of not understanding his Greek homework, and how he wasn’t sure what to actually do in life because drawing was all he was good at, apparently, and decent people just don’t become good-for-nothing artists, like his parents had always said to him. And Henry would listen and offer his quiet reassurance, and they were happy with each other. Sure, the others were nice, but they weren’t them. 

Until one day, someone saw Bunny lying with his head in Henry’s lap and called out “gayyyyyy” and Bunny shot up and desperately looked around, and from that day on, never touched Henry again except, maybe, a hand to his arm. 

And not much later, Henry moved out, and I think that was the beginning of the end of their friendship because Bunny never truly forgave Henry for abandoning him flaunting his wealth like that, which had always been a sore spot in their friendship, even when Henry still paid everything for Bunny out of a genuine desire to accommodate him. 

I think another thing that played a big part in the deterioration of their relationship was that Henry slowly got more friendly with the others while Bunny never truly warmed up to them. He tolerated them and found them amusing, sometimes, but ultimately he never actually was into that whole mythical pseudo-important stuff that the others seemed to love so much. Bunny only liked the Greek class because of Henry and because it gave him a chance to be part of an apparent elite that he actually, deep down, knew he didn’t truly belong to. 

Excuse my yapping, but that’s why I think Bunny slowly began resenting the other Greek students and even Henry. And that’s also why I think he would have been better off as a boring business major with a smart and eccentric roommate.