#Homesickness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soracities · 2 months

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Marina Tsvetaeva, from "Homesickness", Selected Poems (trans. Elaine Feinstein, with Angela Livingstone) [ID'd]

#q #lit #quotes #poetry #typography #id included #homesickness #marina tsvetaeva #selected poems of marina tsvetaeva #russian lit #m #x #i wandered lonely as a cloud

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sageandscorpiongrass · 1 year

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You're never going to be back home again.

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marlynnofmany · 1 year

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The Little Things

“It’s the unexpected stuff that gets me,” I said, swirling my drink. “Like, I’ll expect alien food on the alien spaceship, but the first time I heard offworld music, I thought the engine was about to fail.”

“Oh, I know, right?” agreed the other human, waving her own drink around. She hadn’t spilled it on the spaceport floor yet, but her ship had heavier gravity than this, and she was still adjusting. “And have you smelled what passes for perfume among the Mesmers? It’s like someone cut an onion and rubbed it in hot peppers.”

“Wow, I haven’t come across that yet,” I said with a glance back toward the spacedocks. “We’ve got two Mesmers onboard. Maybe they haven’t felt like getting fancy.” I tried to picture either of my exoskeletoned crewmates preparing for a high-class event, and my brain shorted out. Neither of them seemed the type. Zhee would stand by the punchbowl and complain about everything, while Trrili would hide behind curtains and jump out to startle people. Probably.

“It might be a courtship perfume,” the other human was saying. “Either that or it’s really expensive. I swear, if our navigator wore that on a regular basis, I’d have to invest in one of those high-quality personal air filters. It was bad.”

“Enough to make you miss the people who overdid the perfume back home?” I asked.

She set her drink down and leaned forward. “Enough to make me miss the body odor back home. And I don’t say that lightly!”

“I’ll bet!” I said with a toast of my own drink. It was cherry soda in a champagne glass. The Frillians running this restaurant were so proud of their Earth foods, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them that was anything other than a perfectly normal combination. And the fried-chicken-on-French-toast was actually good.

“It has been a while since I was home, though,” she said, picking at the remains of her macaroni and peas. “Earlier I saw somebody wearing a scarf like my mom’s, and now I keep thinking of all the things I miss. The tree outside my bedroom window, the cat purring, the sound of rain over an old TV show.”

I had a mild epiphany. “Well,” I said, finishing my drink. “I can’t help with all of that, but if you want to make a quick visit to my ship…” I leaned with a conspiratorial grin and whispered, “I’ve got kittens.”

Her gasp made people at three different tables look at us. “Oh my god, yes! Here, I’ll pay for your food. Where did you get kittens??”

“It’s a long story,” I said as she tapped at the payment interface. “I’ll tell you while they’re busy trying to fight your shoes.”

With a happy squeal that caused more than one wince from the aliens nearby, she swept our dishes into the recycler, then we were off to the spacedocks.

~~~

The ongoing backstory of the main character from this book. More to come!

#short one today #hooray for kittens #my writing #the Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #humans are space orcs #homesickness #in spaaace #cats

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medievalscribe · 1 year

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hiraeth

#my poetry #spilled ink #homesickness #longing #nostalgia #poets of tumblr #writers of tumblr

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yourbelgianthings · 10 months

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travis mcelroy on mbmbam episode 109 / nighthawks by edward hopper / the view between villages by noah kahan / image from gregory crewdson’s beneath the roses series / the nostalgic feeling poem by atish home chowdhury / reflections of the past by shirley israel / hiraeth

#message from mirph #i hope this makes any sense lol i heard the first quote and even though it was nothing serious in context it just got me #web weaving #words tag #poetry #music #noah kahan #art #edward hopper #gregory crewdson #shirley israel #painting #photography #home #homesickness #nostalgia #liminal spaces #mbmbam

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mybruisedankleneedsakiss · 1 month

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Can you do a web weaving post on 'home'

as a knife

as a goodbye

as longing

as something peaceful, a resolution; final.

Home by Warsan Shire / Valeria Duca- Content for Breakfast / Home by Warsan Shire / tumblr user @katabasiss / tumblr user @honeytuesday / tumblr user @loveology2022 / Drunk Guy in Boston / End of Beginning, Djo / Class of 2013, Mitski / I'll Remember You as Red by Sophie Pearson / A House in Nebraska, Ethel Cain / Penne For Your Thoughts by Katie Butler / tumblr user @tayyaboenix / Coming Home by Mary Oliver / Little Forest(2018) dir. Yim Soon-rye / Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey

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augustsgrass · 1 month

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caught between a rock and a hard place (my hometown and the rest of the world)

idle town, conan gray / dead poets society (1989) / california, chappell roan / anne carson / unknown / ribs, lorde / paul revere, noah kahan / my tears ricochet, taylor swift / richard siken / little women (2019)

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mono-chromia · 8 months

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Team Sport

A Drarry microfic//oneshot by mono-chromia

Cover illustration by my beloved @basiatlu (alternate versions can be viewed here)

Word count: 1.015

Read under the cut, or on AO3

Draco hadn't understood, but as he comes to find out, Hermione's words had made perfect sense. Harry Potter makes a sport out of sleeping; commiting to a nap the same way he does to a game of Quidditch.

'Mione had once called Harry a "hard sleeper", whatever that may be.

"A heavy sleeper?" Draco had asked, unsure if he was missing some muggle turn of phrase. It comes up when they are trying to figure out the sleeping arrangements in the shared hotel rooms for Luna and Neville's destination wedding.

"Oh, no," she says. "Well, that too, I suppose, so he won't mind if you get back late, but he sleeps hard. I can't quite explain it." Draco doesn't mention the undiscussed assumption that he and Harry are apparently to bunk up together. "You know how he always tries to carry all the plates and cutlery to the table in a single go? Even if there's sixteen people dining?" Draco nods. "It's kind of like that."

Draco hadn't understood, but as he comes to find out, Hermione's words had made perfect sense. Harry Potter makes a sport out of sleeping; commiting to a nap the same way he does to a game of Quidditch.

Their portkey takes them from 5 A.M. in London to 11 A.M. somewhere in the Mekong Delta region, so when they arrive in their room, Harry immediately crawls into the pristinely made hotel bed, nesting the crisp duvets and the pillows into an iceberg-like structure and sleeps. Hard. Sprawled on his belly with his clothes still on (he's wearing sweat shorts at least, not jeans, thank Merlin) but with his feet sticking out for temperature regulation. He looks like he knows what he's doing. Draco watches him fuss and clumsily toe off his socks (because what lunatic wears socks to bed? Ridiculous) and then doze off immediately, squeezing in a highly efficient, half hour kip before they are expected for their lunch arrangements.

Harry seems more affected by the jetlag than the rest of the company, so Draco finds him, not unlike a cat, sleeping in strange places and at odd moments during the entirety of their stay in Vietnam.

For instance, on a couch in the hotel lobby one early morning, while Ron and Hermione argue with the clerk over the tour reservation that Ron definitely made correctly, with his head in Luna's lap, hoodie pulled low over his eyes, and his arms hugged around his chest.

Or, on the lawn chairs by the pool in the middle of the day. Which, Draco supposes, isn't that strange a place to sleep, but Harry's commitment to the activity is once again proven when Hermione ambles over to rub sunscreen on his back and place a sunhat over his head, all without as much as a twitch.

It's really quite fascinating to watch (though no one else seems to think so) and Draco finds himself somewhat jealous, because even when he diligently works through his own list of requirements for a good sleep (freshly showered, moisturized, teeth brushed, clean sheets, glass of water on the side table, window open for airflow, access to his own pillow) he still doesn't often manage to make eight uninterrupted hours, let alone any misguided attempts at a restful nap. When Draco naps it means the situation is dire, that he is unwell, that he feels like something has crawled up his ass and died there, and it usually only exacerbates his condition instead of having the much desired effect it seems to have on Harry. That effect being that he wakes up content, mellow and sleep-soft (objectively) and exists like that for five minutes or so, before moving onto stage two of his post-nap euphoria, which includes but is not limited to; a general lust for life, toothy grins, silly jokes (objectively), and a propensity for affection towards whoever is nearest to him at any given moment.

Which means that Draco finds himself subjected to the feeling of gently excited hands on his wrists and back as they ooh-and-ahh at the view on their hike, and a chin hooked over his shoulder as Harry feigns mild interest in the book Draco is reading, before asking him to come swim.

Apparently, it also means that, when Draco is keyed up with homesickness on the third of their eight-night stay, Harry invites him into bed.

"You okay?"

Draco looks back from where he has his head stuck out the window, spooked and feeling slightly caught. He stares at Harry in his bed, making up the shape of his body under the sheets from his feet (sticking out from under the cover) to his rumpled head that's more under the pillow than on top of it. Harry's voice is thick with sleep and so, so soft.

"Oh," says Draco. "Yeah. Um. Just— a bout of insomnia."

Harry just hums, low and noncommittal, and for a moment Draco thinks that he might be sleep talking. But then Harry shifts and lifts up the duvet, wordlessly and casually extending an invite towards Draco, and waits for him to get in.

Draco would object, but maybe Harry's bed is just that much more comfortable, maybe that's why he sleeps so well, and well— truly it looks much too inviting to resist. So Draco doesn't object, and quietly pads across their room to slip into bed with Harry. The blanket is bunched up and skewed, there are more than enough pillows, yet none of them in the right spot to actually fulfill their intended purpose, but Harry isn't fussed in the least, and wastes no time snaking an arm across Draco's middle and slotting his head under Draco's chin. Harry seems to fall back asleep pretty much immediately, and Draco is suddenly surrounded by an aura of sleep-warmed sheets, skin-on-skin contact and a bouquet of powdery scented curls, clean skin and sweet spearmint breath. It would have been overwhelming if it wasn't so blissfully sedative.

A robust dose of Dreamless Sleep has nothing on the deep rise and fall of Harry's chest, the dozy twitch of his toes against Draco's leg, the blooming warmth in all the spots where their bodies are touching. Draco dreamily wishes he could bottle it. Who knew that sleeping was a team sport.

#drarry microfic #drarry #oneshot #drarry oneshot #draco malfoy #harry potter #fluff #getting together #napping #cuddling #homesickness #tooth rotting fluff #weddings #holidays #writemonowrite #drarry fanart #drarry art #hermione granger

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jareckiworld · 1 month

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Juha Soisalo (1941-2016) — Homesickness [acrylic and oil on canvas, 1981]

#Juha Soisalo #finnish art #homesickness #finnish painters

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dontknowwhyiam · 11 months

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how can a place be so much my home that i ache for it when i leave, and yet, how can i be so homesick for something else too?

// the view between villages - extended, noah kahan // homesick, noah kahan (poster by harrietistired on ko-fi, pinterest) // two poems, chelsea dingman (image by heavensghost, tumblr) // the view between villages, noah kahan (poster by harrietistired on ko-fi, pinterest // jenny caywood, darkroom // pinterest // i know the end, phoebe bridgers (image by uol.art on instagram) //

#web weaving #parallels #noah kahan #stick season #the view between villages #homesick #phoebe bridgers #homesickness

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nemralam · 2 months

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Translation:

What kind of desolation there this be

Home comes to mind the desert when I see

Mirza Beg Asadullah Khan (1797–1869) also known as Mirza Ghalib // Delhi, India

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soracities · 8 days

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Marina Tsvetaeva, from "Homesickness", Selected Poems (trans. Elaine Feinstein, with Angela Livingstone) [ID'd]

#q #lit #quotes #poetry #typography #id included #marina tsvetaeva #homesickness #selected poems of marina tsvetaeva #russian lit #m #x #portrait of the artist #the mystic

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carpentrix · 5 months

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At dusk these early evenings, the windows glow amber. "I walk around the neighborhood this time of year and I look in the windows and I feel homesick," a man in his seventies said to me recently. With his home --- its kitchen counter and its checkered dishtowels, soft blankets on the bed he shares with his wife, old dog dreaming and atwitch on a pillow in the livingroom --- just a few blocks away. Homesick for what, then? For a long-gone childhood sense of home? For a long-gone childhood? For some only-imagined sense of comfort and safety? (May we all, all of us, find it and have it.) The nights are long. Late afternoon brings the deep and aching blue. The original hearth burns somewhere.

[Print: Uncle Henry's (Monhegan Island) by Mary Teichman, 2013]

#winter #hearth #dusk #long nights #homesickness

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tulipberrysimss · 20 days

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As if she wasn’t feeling miserable enough😭

#homesickness #a cold #and pregnancy #girlie can’t catch a break #not so berry #nsbg4

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kybercrystals94 · 7 months

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Redolence

By KyberCrystals94

Find here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023 | Day 1 | Alternative Prompt: Lab Rats

Bad Things Happen Bingo | Prompt: Homesickness

Rating:G

Words: 1,070

Summary: Omega and Echo have a conversation about their pasts.

Omega presses her face between Lula’s long ears and breathes deeply the scent of her brothers: stale sweat, blaster residue, motor oil, aftershave, regulation soap, and a few other things she can’t quite place. Lula is like a sponge, soaking up the redolence of the soldiers she lives with. While the stuffed tooka doesn’t smell pleasant , Lula smells of love and safety and comfort. Therefore, she smells wonderful, and Omega gives the creature an extra tight squeeze as she tries to hold in the tears that threaten to spill. She should be happy. She is happy. She is. She is.

“Omega, are you alright?”

Omega is surprised by the generic reg voice. She would have expected Hunter or Wrecker to check on her...maybe even Tech. Not Echo. He isn’t unkind, but he is distant, almost unsure of her. Like he doesn’t want to get attached. Omega understands, even though it makes her heart hurt a little.

“I’m fine,” Omega lies easily, lifting her face so that her voice isn’t muffled against Lula’s soft stuffing.

There is a pause, but Omega knows the cyborg clone hasn’t walked away. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, Echo clears his throat. “Are you sure? Hunter – uh – sent me to check on you.”

Omega forces a smile and carefully blinks back the tears that have been forming before she pulls back the curtain, letting Lula topple from her arms. “I’m okay, Echo,” she assures him.

The shadows on Echo’s face in the warm glow of her strung lights accentuate his gaunt features, and Omega suppresses the shudder that reflexively comes. Nala Se had Omega study Echo’s medical files as part of her training. The horrors he suffered at the hands of the Techno Union still haunt Omega’s imagination, and the cool, professional terminology she poured over in the files did not do his tragedy justice. It must’ve been hard for him to join the Batch too, starting over after all he’d been through. She admires him endlessly for it, but she isn’t sure how she could ever tell him without also admitting to having read his files. Not that she’d had a choice, or was snooping, but...

Echo matches her striving grin with one of his own. “Alright. If you say so,” he says, shrugging one shoulder, telling her without telling her that he knows she’s lying.

He starts to turn away when Omega bites out, “Wait, Echo...”

“Yeah?” he asks, the familiar gruff of his voice catching on the edge of the word.

Omega swallows, hoping he isn’t annoyed with her indecisiveness. “I just...can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, kid,” he says, and leans his weight against the wall casually.

“When you first joined Clone Force 99, did you – or do you – ever feel...” Omega searches for the right word, pressing her lips together before saying in a whisper, “homesick? For what you had before?”

Echo looks startled by the question, his eyes widening a little. However, the expression is brief, and his face returns to his normal air in a blink. To Omega’s dismay, he answers her question with one of his own, “Do you feel homesick for Kamino?”

“Sometimes,” Omega admits, pinching one of Lula’s ears between her fingers, “but I don’t want to go back. I’m happy here, with all of you. But if I’m happy here, why do I miss what I don’t want?”

Echo’s face softens. “Because you miss what is familiar, even if it wasn’t better.”

“Is that bad?” Omega asks.

“Of course not,” Echo says, “I missed living with my reg brothers. It’s all I knew most of my life. Doesn’t mean I care about my enhanced brothers any less.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly at the terminology adopted from the Batch, and it makes Omega giggle.

“I guess you and me are kind of the same,” Omega says softly, wistfully. “Taken in by the Bad Batch when..." Echo visibly stiffens, and Omega clamps her mouth shut, now gripping Lula’s ear in a fist. She shouldn’t have said that. She knew the moment the words left her mouth. She and Echo are nothing alike. Not really. Not at all.

But they are. In some ways.

Right?

To her surprise, Echo leans forward, folding his arms and resting them on the floor of her gunner’s mount room. “Nala Se,” he says, his voice softer and gentler than she’s ever heard it, “she experimented on you, didn’t she.” Not a question.

Omega bites down on the inside of her cheek. She has never wanted to tell any of them about that. But Echo knows, because she told him in a roundabout way. In the medical wing, after his accident in the mess hall. He woke up in a panic, and she’d comforted him. I don’t like being hooked up to their machines either.

She didn’t think he’d remember that, but why wouldn’t he?

So, she nods a small, jerky affirmative.

“I don’t remember much about the Techno Union,” Echo says, his voice still low, almost a whisper. Like his words are just for her ears. “I mean...I know what they did. And I live with what they did everyday...but it’s what the Kaminoans did that I remember well. They had to see that I was fit for duty, and their tests...” Echo falters, his words dropping off in an expanse of hidden emotions. He blinks, looking a little lost.

She isn’t sure why she does it, but she reaches out and rests a hand on Echo’s face, her thumb brushing over the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “I know,” she whispers, because she does. She was Nala Se’s “assistant” from her earliest memories. She saw the tests firsthand. Experienced some of them herself.

“You shouldn’t though,” Echo says, “No kid should know that.”

“Maybe,” Omega shrugs, “But we’re safe from them now...the Kaminoans, I mean.”

Echo’s eyes find hers and he smiles sadly. “Yeah, we are.”

Omega’s touch lingers a moment longer before she pulls away and hugs Lula close to her chest. “I’m not homesick for the Kaminoans. I’m homesick for Kamino...for AZI and helping with the babies. I hope they’re alright.”

“I hope so too,” Echo says, and he gives her knee a squeeze with his flesh hand. “You’re a good kid, Omega. I’m glad the Batch found...both of us.”

Omega smiles at her brother who understands. “Me too.”

END

#Whumptober 2023 #Day 1 #alternative prompt #Lab Rats #bad things happen bingo #homesickness #star wars #fanfiction #the bad batch #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #the clone wars #tbb omega #tbb echo #clone trooper echo #echo #arc trooper echo #fics by kyber

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aliengelic-princess · 1 year

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#nostalgiacore #sadcore #ventcore #sad vent #vent art #actuallymentallyill #actuallytraumatized #time trouble #homesickness

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