Tumpik
#Isabelle Clarke
takiyudin78 · 20 days ago
Link
162 notes · View notes
se-taire-toutes · 23 days ago
Link
161 notes · View notes
vsecretandmore · a month ago
Photo
Tumblr media
92 notes · View notes
nvdish-angel · 6 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media
via: isabelle.clarke (instagram)
113 notes · View notes
dirtysweetandhot · 3 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pretty girl turning up the heat in a variety of black bikinis
24 notes · View notes
celebssmoking · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
20 notes · View notes
just-marcus · 18 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
8 notes · View notes
berry-niceblack · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Isabelle Clarke
IG : https://instagram.com/isabelle.clarke?utm_medium=copy_link
45 notes · View notes
nicaromodels · a year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Isabelle Clarke.
96 notes · View notes
disarmluna · a year ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Isabelle Clarke
68 notes · View notes
gentlemangeek · a year ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
LOOK! AT! THEM!
6 notes · View notes
cinematic-reminiscence · 2 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media
ISABELLE ADJANI
Photographed by Henry Clarke for French Vogue, November 1975.
908 notes · View notes
vsecretandmore · a month ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
121 notes · View notes
m9ri6h · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I exist, I am, don't come near, I have teeth, I have claws.”
Three Women: A Poem for Three Voices - Sylvia Plath / Jennifer’s Body / Rabid (2019, 1977) / Bloodthirsty / Raw / Ginger Snaps / Lady Lazarus / The Other Lamb / Much Ado About Nothing / All Cheerleaders Die / Teeth / Alyce Kills / Game of Thrones / Maneater - Nelly Furtado / The Book of Promethea - Hélène Cixous (tr. Betsy Wing)
363 notes · View notes
universallovebot · a year ago
Text
I once read “home is where I feel empty on a Sunday”. God knows, I’ve had my fair share of those. I can’t remember where I saw it and a google search does me no good, but I know it is not mine (although it feels as if it were).
What’s the other saying? Home is where the heart is? This seems true as well, though I’m not sure how to place it alongside the emptiness.
Home is an odd kind of concept. Not the same as a house, space, apartment. Instead, it borders on something between an idea and a feeling— fixing itself into the cracks of people, places, moments.
A hermit crab carries its home on its back. Where do I carry mine?
Before, home was always wherever those I love were. Faculty parties my mom would take me to and rivers to drink coffee next to with my best friend. Museums you leave your heart behind in and 24-hour diners at 4am with your roommates. Wherever a hand is held, a laugh is heard, a smile is born.
It is different now. My apartment cannot ring with the shouting of those who come visit, my bed cannot be shared with friends who giggle into the early hours. There are no parties, no dinners, no hugs or high fives or cheeks pressed against another’s.
We make do as best we can, enjoying the company of those we live with to the fullest but it’s never quite the same. I try to become more familiar with my space— the spots and corners in which I am supposed to discover some grand truth. I spend 10 minutes a day looking in the mirror, hoping I will become something worth looking at. Instead, I feel as if I am wasting away, saturating the room with my aimlessness. What is the point, without other people?
Days become hours become weeks. My entire life is contained to my bed— my classes, my entertainment, the ghost of friends I used to hug— all stuck between my pillows and an old laptop. I now know every creak in the floor, can map out every spot on the ceiling. Still, this is only home when I make it to the living room, rest my head on my roommate’s shoulder and ask her about her day.
I think home is where the heart is, just as much as it is where you feel empty on a Sunday. I suppose home is where you have the comfort to feel that emptiness, the comfort to feel that love. I carry my home in my hands, placing it wherever I’d like. Today, it’ll be in the crook of my best friend’s neck and tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is Sunday.
Home - Isabel Larrea-Clark, from The Virtual Reality Storybook
1K notes · View notes
bbyskars · a month ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Clark (or John) sneaking in to see his first conquest of the night - Part 2
Bill Skarsgård as Clark Olofsson and Isabelle Grill as Madou in CLARK (2022)
104 notes · View notes
just-marcus · a month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes