Claire Keane
art blog(derogatory)
No title available
PR's Tumblrdome
h
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
Interview Vampire Daily
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
EXPECTATIONS
Origami Around
#extradirty
Cosimo Galluzzi
shark vs the universe
tannertan36
One Nice Bug Per Day
Product Placement
𓃗
untitled
noise dept.
blake kathryn
seen from Colombia
seen from Colombia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Türkiye
seen from Indonesia
seen from New Zealand
seen from Colombia
@siabhrah-blog
UNHOLY - you’re so unholy ! you never wanted this ( your body is a battlefield of a war you did not start ) and you never asked for this, but there is no going back now. so open your wings , you bird , you monster . heaven awaits , and you plan to set it aflame . ( written by miriam . )
ringpyre: - emo capitalist.
it’s more than good to hear that they’ve someone with, well, EXPERIENCE outside the crown city guarding their back. ignis has some experience, but that was few and far between so he hasn’t been able to put much under his belt. besides, fighting from a car would be difficult. he’s sure it must be easier on a motorcycle … ( he’s always wanted a motorcycle … )
❝ ignis scientia, i’ll be looking forward to working with you. ❞ the cat’s been out of the metaphorical bag that noctis is alive for some time now, so he needn’t worry about giving a fake name. he could probably, hopefully, extract himself if necessary in the end anyways. that’s why HE was the one sent to do negotiations. ( that and ignis doesn’t really trust the guys with talking to people of interest. )
“likewise.” he nods, bows his head down, hand goes back to rub at the hilt of his buster sword, familiar and grounding, once more. he needs that sword like he needs air; even away from home, which makes him nervous beyond all belief ( he misses his family, he misses tifa and barret and marlene and denzel so much it hurts ), so the familiarity is welcome. so is the prospect of the money he’s going to make with his job. really, it’s enough to keep him going through all, despite everything.
“when do i start?” because really, he wants to be paid soon. he wants to get this entourage of fancy rich bastards to where they need to go as fast as possible so he can go home. he’s got separation anxiety, for sure. no need to deny it - just act on it. and he intents to, like the clingy idiot he is. he’ll make this work. he always does, somehow.
happy pride month cloud strife is a nonbinary he/him lesbian
“you may forget, but let me tell you this: someone in some future time will think of us.”
sappho’s poetry starters / not accepting.
cloud knows that the earth remembers - he’s seen the lifestream dance and sing and whisper, thousands upon thousands of voices, lives gone by, recorded in the living, breathing earth. someday, he will die, as he has lived: sad and twisted and fundamentally alone, welcomed into his mother’s loving arms in the form of swirling green breath. someday, everyone will die alone. cloud has long accepted this, that no matter how you live your life, you’ll always leave it alone.
(there’s a flash of painful memory behind his eyelids, bloodsoaked, rain, rusted sword, a cry of grief, a click of something awful in his mind.)
it’s a nasty, horrible thing. and so cloud has done in the past what cloud strife does best: repress, repress, repress. press himself down until someone else takes over and does it for him, pushes the memories away until he can’t think of anything. he remembers, not knowing his own name at one point, not knowing his own goal or likes or dislikes, his past. the trauma does that to you, strips everything away, until you’re nothing. because being something is more dangerous.
but cloud doesn’t live like that anymore. he doesn’t have to. he has friends who like him, he has a family who cares for him, he has a wife who loves him. truly. he couldn’t forget any of this, even if he wanted to. he does, some days, the pain piercing him like a knife through the chest. his first reaction is always to run. his second is to forget. but he cannot do either. not while tifa is relying on him so much, and he on her. they have children to take care of, businesses to run. they have lives to live. they have each other to love.
“i promise, tifa. i won’t forget again.” his voice, heavy with conviction, his hands, shaking, as he takes one of hers in his own and brings it to his mouth to kiss. “i’d never... i’d never do that to you again.” i’m sorry. hangs in the air, unspoken, and yet said time and time again. i won’t leave you. is also there, twisting and curling like a promise. i love you, whispers against the back of his neck. he’s said it a thousand times over, and unlike the other ones, this one being unsaid is a comfort - he doesn’t need to say it, because she knows, and he knows that she knows, and that’s what matters.
they have each other, and even if they die alone, the earth will remember that, and so will they. and that’s what matters. and that’s how it has always been, and always will be.
starters from SAPPHO’S POEMS translated in 1958 by mary barnard ( part iii )
“you may forget, but let me tell you this: someone in some future time will think of us.”
“pain penetrates me drop by drop.”
“last night, i dreamed that you and i had words.”
“the night is now half - gone.”
“i am in bed alone.”
“this way, that way. i do not know what to do: i am of two minds.”
“how could i change towards you who are so beautiful?”
“show me the favour of your eyes.”
“of course i love you.”
“my disposition is not at all spiteful: i have a childlike heart.”
“i salute, madam, the descendant of many great kings a great many times.”
“rich as you are, death will finish you: afterwards no one will remember or want you.”
“you will flitter invisible among the indistinct dead in hell’s palace darting fitfully.”
“we know this much: death is an evil; we have the gods’ word for it; they too would die if death were a good thing.”
“you remind me of a very gentle little girl i once watched picking flowers.”
“may you sleep then on some tender girl friend’s breast.”
“fill our gold cups with love stirred into clear nectar.”
“whom has persuasion to bring round now to your love?”
“who, ( name ), is unfair to you?”
“relieve this intolerable pain!”
“for, let her run, she will soon run after; if she won’t accept gifts, she will one day give them.”
“he is a god in my eyes — the man who is allowed to sit beside you — he who listens intimately to the sweet murmur of your voice, the enticing laughter that makes my own heart beat fast.
part i // part ii
starters from SAPPHO’S POEMS translated in 1958 by mary barnard ( part i )
“it’s no use.”
“you may blame aphrodite, soft as she is, she has almost killed me with love.”
“what shall we do now?”
“young ( name ) is dying!”
“people do gossip.”
“when i saw eros on his way down from heaven, he wore a soldier’s cloak dyed purple.”
“sleep, darling.”
“i wouldn’t take all croesus’ kingdom with love thrown in, for her.”
“she who wears flowers attracts the happy graces: they turn back from a bare head.”
“the evening star is the most beautiful of all stars.”
“it is time now for you who are so pretty and charming to share in games that the pink - ankled graces play.”
“o never!”
“i shall be a virgin always.”
“o graces, o rosy - armed perfection: god’s daughters.”
“aphrodite has surely outdone herself in doing honour to you.”
“she is a bride who is charming to look at, with eyes as soft as honey, and a face that love has lighted with his own beauty.”
“we drink your health.”
“come now to your bedroom to your bed and play there sweetly, gently.”
“where will you go when i lose you?”
“i’m off to a place i shall never come back from.”
“i shall never come back to you. never!”
“why am i crying?”
part ii // part iii
starters from SAPPHO’S POEMS translated in 1958 by mary barnard ( part ii )
“if i meet you suddenly, i can’t speak — my tongue is broken; a thin flame runs under my skin; seeing nothing, hearing only my own ears drumming, i drip with sweat; trembling shakes my body and i turn paler than dry grass.”
“at such times, death isn’t far from me.”
“yes, ( name ), you may be sure even in sardis anactoria will think often of us of the life we shared here, when you seemed the goddess incarnate.”
“this parting must be endured, ( name ). i go unwillingly.”
“go, and be happy but remember ( you know well ) whom you leave shackled by love.”
“if you forget me, think of our gifts to aphrodite and all the loveliness that we shared. all the violet tiaras, braided rosebuds, dill and crocus twined around your young neck.”
“but you forget everything.”
“i shall never love you again!”
“if you will come, i shall put out new pillows for you to rest on.”
“you have made love blaze up in my breast — bless you!”
“bless you as often as the hours have been endless to me while you were gone.”
“believe me, i prayed that that night might be doubled for us.”
“but you, monkey face ( name ), i loved you long ago while you still seemed to me an ungracious child.”
“i was proud of you.”
“after all this, ( name ), you hate even the thought of me”
“afraid of losing you, i ran fluttering like a little girl to her mother.”
“it is clear now: neither honey nor the honey bee is to be mine again.”
“day in, day out, i hunger and i struggle.”
“see, i have come back to the soft arms i turned from in the old days.”
“tell me: out of all mankind, whom do you love better than you love me?”
“enough!”
“why try to move a hard heart?
part i // part iii
ringpyre: - emo capitalist.
❝ we have a pesky problem with mechanized ASSASSINS chasing us wherever we go. sometimes they drop right on our head as we’re driving. your duty will to be keep them off our back and help us fend them off. ❞
it’s simple enough, most of the time they’re able to fight them off themselves but it can get so tiring after so long. ❝ essentially, you’ll be our watchdog. is it right for me to presume you have your own vehicle? ❞
otherwise, truthfully, it would be a little harder to accommodate room for cloud.
“i do. i have a motorcycle.” cloud thinks of fenrir, his pride and joy, shiny and brushed down every night. he’s a little obsessive with how pretty she is, and her being in constant use doesn’t make up difference. it’s good to be passionate about something, after all. “i also have experience of fighting on her. so watching your back while you’re on the road will be no problem. and i can keep up.”
it seems he’s pretty suited for the job. part of him wants to revert to his old ways, keep his distance, but he’s going to have to be putting up with this little merry band for a long time. he might as well get acquainted. “not sure if i introduced myself properly. i’m cloud strife. hired hand.” there’s a pause, and he stares for a moment. hopefully he gets the hint. and you are?
HADESTOWN.
the following prompts were taken from the concept album / folk opera hadestown by american singer-songwriter anaïs mitchell, based on the greek myth of orpheus & eurydice. feel free to change pronouns in the prompts as you see fit !
❛ lover, tell me if you can, who’s gonna buy the wedding bands? ❜
❛ times being what they are, hard, and getting harder all the time. ❜
❛ lover, when i sing my song, all the trees gonna sing along. ❜
❛ king of diamonds, king of spades. ❜
❛ there ain’t no difference anymore. ❜
❛ those who go, they don’t come back. ❜
❛ winter’s nigh and summer’s o’er. ❜
❛ i hear that high & lonesome sound. ❜
❛ everybody dresses in clothes so fine. ❜
❛ everybody sipping ambrosia wine. ❜
❛ all them shiny little heads & tails, where do you think they come from? ❜
❛ seems like he owns everything. ❜
❛ kind of makes you wonder how it feels. ❜
Keep reading
@kvsmy / for tifa bcs im gay.
presses a kiss onto his wife’s cheek. “hi, tifa. how was your day?” the fondness and affection is clear in his voice. he’s feeling particularly sappy tonight.
cass get on ur multi so we can write clo/ti challenge
i think you will set yourself afire before you realise that even you cannot conquer the sun. rebellion sits well on you; like a red coat or the gilt gold burnish of youth.
( i do not believe we shall ever see how old age looks on you. you are breaking my heart. )
“...i love my wife.”
guess whos been awakened
new icons.... i love this literal puppy
