#toholdmyown

[parastatheis-blog]

‘ oooooh my boy going to prom. fuck it up! fuck it up! fuck it up! ’ -Eurydice

very serious vine starters ( @toholdmyown )

“You’re ridiculous. I don’t know you.” Alright, maybe he enjoys her dumb hype just a little bit, even if it’s a joke. How many hundreds of years has he been living that decadent and worthlessly infinite life? It’s a WIN, he thinks, that he can still find the joy in putting himself together — in putting any effort into appearances. “… Prom? Does it really read PROM?”

[persephonce-blog]

@toholdmyown liked for a starter

      There is a s a d n e s s that travels throughout the walls of the palace-it is not the usual sadness of the dead that groan and REGRET their past actions in life-

    no it is melancholy, innocent sadness.

    It is a sadness that r a d i a t e s from the girl that stands before her.

       [The queen allows her gaze to travel far from the girl and towards the doors for a moment. She has half a mind to tell the woman to LEAVE-she does not remember inviting her into the throne room-but the inevitable sadness softens the queen’s heart and she turns to face the girl once more.]

   ~”What have you come here for, girl?”~

[toholdmyown]

@skourovasilia​ / x

Though the motions were familiar, their lips (his surprisingly warm against hers, despite the iciness of his hands) moving in a dance practiced by this point, it’s origin was strange. When they broke the kiss, her fingers knotted against his leather lapel, he was shocked above all else that she had pulled herself against him. That she had sought his affections first was such a rarity that he was visibly shocked, his hands firm against her hips, preventing her from backing away.

“Oh?”

     His lips are not as warm as Orpheus’, nor as soft, but with her eyes closed and her fingers holding him close as she dares- she can pretend. It is a blessing to forget, a blessing to not have to look at the Lord of the Underground’s face in the cold industrial light. Eurydice’s head drops to his shoulder & she inhales his SCENT- something alive in the cold of HADESTOWN. 

     His fingers are stronger. 

      “ You don’t have to ask questions, you know. ”

[toholdmyown]

@parastatheis / HERE

“You know, in a weird sort of way, that is  n i c e to know. How do you feel about substituting  ‘BULLET’ for ‘WRATH OF A GODDESS” …? You think maybe next time Hera WALKS IN on something UNDESIRABLE you’d take that for me, too?”

       “ Okay... considering how many times I’ve dealt with Demeter doing pretty much the same? I’m going to take a hard pass on that. Same with distracting her- Echo’s been bummed out for EONS. Text messaging was good invention for her. ” 

      “ But you’re welcome to hang out at my place after, as always. I’ve got some good ambrosia wine I’ve been saving for a rainy day. ”

[toholdmyown]

way down HADESTOWN-  WAY DOWN under the ground

indie EURYDICE  of anais mitchell’s  HADESTOWN

semi-active sideblog,  written by KATE-  follows back from  @flamesofesmeralda