hello vonnie
sheepfilms
occasionally subtle

Love Begins
The Bright Sessions

roma★
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

oozey mess
RMH

Origami Around
noise dept.
Fieri Frames
h
Not today Justin
Claire Keane
Doug Jones
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
untitled

Product Placement

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@lightdoch

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Only sixteen and every prospect of my bright young life coming to the end of the chapters within the next few minutes. A queer, hardly describable sensation of semi-suspended animation. Everyone waiting without movement or word for the crash that must almost immediately be followed by the short sharp struggle. Then... what? I don't advise anyone to try it as an experiment. Take it from one who knows. It's unpleasant, mighty unpleasant.
C. H. Lightoller, from his autobiography Titanic and Other Ships, 1935
here tumblr, flag this one
“Though a bit- Tight around the shoulders.” As best evidenced by the stretch lines in his shirt and his grunt when he finally peeled it off. This served a glimpse of his bare back, etched in the shadows of golden lamplight, with a smattering of spots and scars like stray marks on a page. He soon smothered it beneath his pajamas, and unceremoniously dropped onto the bed.
William pretended he had not been staring.
-So Flood Me Like Atlantic, Chapter 4 (x)
Murdoch at the US Inquiry
(bonus courtroom sketch under cut)
SEN. SMITH: Do you care to elaborate?
MURDOCH: No.
like the ocean
“Like the sea, he had witnessed William in all his moods. Bright skies and clear weather made for a quiet confidence reflected in his eyes, calm green like the color of seafoam. Stormy squalls brought out grey hues and a furrow between the brows, not a trace of uncertainty in his straight-backed stance, only discipline; grey was William in his element. Brown, then, was the warmth in his smile, the humor in his voice, the tenderness with which the waves lapped upon a sandy shore or salt-crusted hull…”
- What Happens During Wilde’s Watch, Chapter 2 (x)
“There was no other reason he had memorized every shade of blue in his eyes, from wintry ice in total brightness to sunshine peeking through waves in mellow light. No other reason he had dreamt about such mundane acts as tracing the curve of his jaw with his fingers, or placing a kiss on his hand; holding him tenderly, the way he was now held. No other reason he stole glimpses beneath his shirt and wondered…”
- So Flood Me Like Atlantic, Chapter 5 (x)

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main character-ass coloration smh
William reached up with his free hand to card through Charles’ hair, murmuring, “Yer a mess.”
Charles leaned in and let him do as he pleased, a hint of redness in the ears as he grinned. “You’re not any better, love.”
(new chapter out now xoxoxo)
Sylvia Plath, from a diary entry featured in The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
Alfred Stieglitz, from a letter to Georgia O’Keeffe featured in My Faraway One: Selected Letters of Georgia O'Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz: Volume One, 1915-1933
D. H. Lawrence, from The Selected Poems of D. H. Lawrence; “A Woman and her Dead Husband,”

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C. H. Lightoller, from his autobiography Titanic and Other Ships, 1935
Lightoller: I mean, small creatures are way more vicious. It's because their anger has less space to be bottled up in. Wilde: That's ridiculous. Give me examples of this. Murdoch: Spiders. Boxhall: Wasps. Pitman: Harold Lowe.
must i pull out the chart
(imagine the anger meter increases as the height decreases)
Grief is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.
— Jamie Anderson, via starlightacademia
obviously I take no pleasure whatsoever in tenderly caring for you while you're sick and writhing in bed with a fever
comforting you while you're vulnerable, running my fingers through your disheveled hair, placing a cold compress to your skin, flushed and hot to the touch, etc.
what do you take me for - some kind of pervert?
Bride, Lightoller, and The Ones We Left Behind
In his 1935 autobiography, Titanic and Other Ships, Charles Lightoller claims that senior wireless operator Jack Phillips failed to deliver a vital ice warning from the SS Mesaba because he put it under a paperweight and forgot about it:
"That delay proved fatal and was the main contributory cause to the loss of that magnificent ship and hundreds of lives. Had I as Officer of the Watch, or the Captain, become aware of the peril lying so close ahead and not instantly slowed down or stopped, we should have been guilty of culpable and criminal negligence."
Another thing that was brought up during a discussion last night, on the anniversary of the sinking: Lightoller had lost his best friend of 12 years, Bride had lost his new friend of about 12 days. Both Murdoch and Phillips left such an impression that night that they were still being fiercely and bitterly defended 24 years later.
The timescale of this is hard to wrap one’s head around. There was a whole world war in between there! I wonder if Lightoller would not have written his book without the insistence of his wife because he did not want to dredge up the memories again. It is relevant to note that survivors of Collapsible B, as both Lightoller and Bride were, trended towards having PTSD (more than your average survivor, that is).

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Joaquín Nin, from a letter to Anaïs Nin, featured in Reunited: The Correspondence of Anais and Joaquin Nin, 1933-1940