#I don't know if these would ever be done in real life

[headspace-hotel]

This year has, so far, been for me a series of rapid realizations of what I have been unlearning.

I went to the library. This was a couple weeks ago. I knew I needed to read a book, fiction. I hadn't done so in over a year and it was the longest period of time I had ever gone without doing so. I made a rule: I would only pick books I had never heard of, by authors I had never heard of, and I would not do any preliminary research or even bother to look at what the book was about. I would make my decision on whether to read or not purely on my impression of the title, cover and opening lines.

The book was The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell. It was kind of a random selection. I sat down with it in a corner of the library and straight up devoured it. I tore through the book within a few hours, without taking a single break. I was captivated. I couldn't put it down.

It is a book about a guy who buys a Mayan figurine in a knickknack shop while he's on a business trip. and becomes obsessed with pre-Columbian sculptural art. There isn't really much of a plot apart from this. He goes to sketchy antique shows, has conversations with museum curators, wealthy art dealers and forgers, and seeks to learn how to distinguish a genuine pre-Columbian piece from a fake one. It was written in the 1970's, so the views on Native Americans are antiquated and sometimes offensive, and there is the troubling thread of the very concept of looting another culture's treasures and treating them as collectibles, though the book is not without commentary on this.

All the same, it was a completely intoxicating read. The vicarious experience of becoming fascinated with a topic and having it unfold a whole world for you was ferociously gripping, and so was the intrigue of the art collecting world itself. The frauds, forgeries, smuggling, museums, academics, aristocrats, auctions and seedy flea markets. Will he ever be able to tell if a piece is "real?" Does it matter if it's "real?" Why does he want to own and possess a piece of art, and how does its "realness" affect that desire? The book leaves you not knowing what to think.

It is a book about curiosity, portrayed in the narrative as a totally unreasonable lightning bolt that strikes a man who has never been fascinated by anything and changes him forever. Why? Why does a Mayan figurine, in particular, speak to him? Why does any piece of art, or any fascinating thing in the world, speak to anyone? It is unknowable.

I went to the library again. I picked a new book using the same rules. This book was Fragile Beasts by Tawni O'Dell. Just like the last time, I was totally captivated. I couldn't put it down.

Did I have a couple major problems with the portrayal of some important aspects of the story? Yes. (It would make the post much longer to discuss.) Was I completely captured by and invested in the story for the time I was reading it? Also yes. The book braids together several very different strands-- the story of a legendary Spanish bullfighter and a wealthy American woman that he loved, two brothers stuck in an ugly family situation after their father's death in a car accident, and a rich old heir to a Pennsylvania coal mining fortune and to the sinister underbelly of her family's business.

There was a lot about baseball, which I know nothing about, and bullfighting, which I know nothing about, and I certainly don't know anything about being a teenaged boy who resents and mistrusts his estranged mother, or an aristocratic old lady who lives in a mansion and eats fancy Spanish food. It was fun to experience so much unfamiliar stuff and to care about things I wouldn't normally care about. Once again I couldn't stop reading until I had finished it.

I don't know that either book was "good," though I thought they were both well written; I just know that reading them was like being hooked up to an IV of something essential and life-giving and feeling it reanimating my body.

It had been a year since I had read any fiction, but it had been much, much longer since I had loved to read. As I became an adult I had become picky and critical about books, and developed a highly sophisticated sense of my taste and the books I considered good- which were very rare. My taste in books became so sophisticated, eventually, that I didn't like books at all anymore.

I had almost withered away from deficiency of that essential nutrient known as STORY. I'd almost crumbled myself into dust from pretentiousness! I may have been terribly wrong about the kinds of things I liked to read, on top of it. And I certainly hadn't realized that story was such an essential nutrient.

"Just entertainment" the pretentious sorts of people might say of a book they think is useless-- but what is entertainment but to absorb your mind in something, and what is absorbing your mind in a book but to experience things you would never have experienced? It expands you and makes you more complicated. It is the study of human existence itself.

Now all I have been able to think about today is finishing my work and going to the library again...

[tortillamastersblog]

First Date | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: foul language, a shit ton of fluff, and smut (if you squint)

Summary: After recovering and moving to New York to start your new life, you finally take Sam on a first date. . .

Masterlist

_______________________________________________

"How do I look?" | ask, fixing my collar nervously in front of the mirror.

"For the hundredth time, you look great!" Liam exclaims, and I glance at my phone to see him nodding encouragingly on my screen.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair once again before dropping my arms and turning away from the mirror.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," | admit, picking up my phone while Liam laughs.

"You're ridiculous. You're not going to throw up. Why are you so nervous anyway? You've been living with Sam for almost three months now."

I shrug on my jacket and crouch down to slip on my shoes. "I don't know! It's just... this is our first real date and I want to impress her." I look at my phone to see Liam's face softening.

"I get that," he says gently, "but there really is no need to be nervous. This is Sam we're talking about.

She loves you so much, she'll be impressed no matter what you do, or where you take her."

"I guess you're right." | take a deep breath and grab my keys.

Sam and I moved in together after I got out of the hospital. At first, I went to live with her and Tara in their old apartment, but since then I got a new job at Liam's company and the apartment that comes with it. 

Tara moved into an apartment of her own with Anika and Mindy.

They live close to campus, while Sam and I live on the upper west side. It's the same building Liam lives in, but he's currently on a business trip in Dallas, hence why he's on the phone with me for moral support rather than being here in person.

Sam is at Tara's, getting ready for our date since Tara, Mindy, and Anika insisted it would be cute if I didn't see Sam all dressed up until I went over to theirs to pick her up.

"Of course I'm right," Liam teased lightheartedly.

"Now go and have fun! I'll talk to you tomorrow." I snort, but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hang up and I take another look at myself in the mirror before squaring my shoulders and leaving the apartment.

I lock the door behind me and take the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the parking garage. It's just as fancy as the rest of the building and it spares me the trouble of finding a parking spot out on the street which is always a nightmare.

The bouquet of red roses I got earlier sits on the passenger seat of the car when I get in and I make sure it’s secure before starting the car and making my way across the city.

It's a surprisingly short drive because for some reason there is barely any traffic. There's also a parking spot right in front of Tara's apartment building which makes my heart skip a beat because I thought l'd have more time to prepare myself for seeing Sam.

I have no idea what she's going to wear, but Tara texted me a couple of minutes ago, telling me I'm going to faint when I see her.

I grab the flowers and hop out of the car, tapping my foot nervously on the elevator ride up to the apartment. I love Sam, and I know she loves me, but after all is said and done, this is still our first date and I want it to go well. 

“Oh hey! You’re right on time!” Anika greets me at the door and even goes so far as to pull me in for a hug. We aren’t exactly close, but ever since I saved her life she’s been extra nice to me. 

“Hey, Anika.” I smile and shift on my feet nervously.

“Babe? Is that Y/N?” Mindy calls out from somewhere in the apartment and Anika shouts back a yes, which makes Mindy appear a moment later with a smirk on her face.

“Hi, Y/N.” She pulls me into a careful hug, making sure not to ruin the flowers. “You look dashing.”

I feel myself blush and avert my eyes momentarily, clearing my throat. “Uh– Thanks, Mindy.”

When I look back up, Mindy’s smirk has turned into a soft smile and she and Anika share a knowing look before ushering me into the apartment and closing the door behind me. 

“Tara and Sam will be right out,” Anika explains, and not even a second later, Tara comes bouncing around the corner.  

“Y/N!” she exclaims happily, however unlike Mindy and Anika she doesn’t close the distance between us to hug me. She simply stops by the corner and smiles brightly, her eyes darting between me and the hallway to her left, which is shielded from my view. 

And then I hear it. The telltale sound of high heels on the hardwood floor.

Sam.

I hold my breath and wait patiently for her to appear,and when she does, I really do feel like fainting. In a regular shirt, she’s already stunning, but right now she’s simply breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple black, one shoulder dress that has a slit running up the length of her thigh and a pair of matching black ankle strap heels. The front of her hair has been tied back, so it’s out of her face while the rest of it flows down her back in soft waves. To tie back the entire look, she’s applied some makeup to highlight her dark eyes, her lipstick a soft red so as to not distract from her eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly with a shy smile on her face.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes off her. We’ve not even left the apartment yet and she’s already got me swooning over her. 

Tara, Mindy, and Anika watch us staring at each other, amusement on all of their faces before Mindy clears her throat, prompting me to finally move.

I step further into the apartment and hold out my hand, my knees almost buckling when Sam takes it with a dimpled smile. I notice her nails are painted the same shade of red as her lipstick, and it makes me marvel at just how much thought and effort she’s put into her appearance tonight.

“You look–” Good? Great? Beautiful? No. None of those words describe the way she looks right now. I bite the inside of my cheek, and squeeze her hand before finally settling on, “-- absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” Sam looks away shyly before meeting my eyes again, this time with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You look amazing, too.”

I snort because I wouldn’t even dare to compare our looks tonight, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, I bring the bouquet of roses between us and say, “These are for you.”

Her eyes light up and she glances at the roses before looking back at me. “For me?” she asks quietly which makes me chuckle softly and nod. “Thank you.”

She takes them, her cheeks now redder than before and intertwines our fingers. 

“You’re welcome.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to smudge her lipstick, so I opt for giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

Damn. She even smells great. Is that sandalwood? 

Sam nods and I squeeze her hand before turning back around to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika still watching us.

Tara and Anika both look like they’re going to melt, and despite Mindy trying to play it cool, I can also see affection dancing in her eyes. 

“You two are so cute, I love it.”  Anika sighs and takes Mindy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Aren’t they cute?” she asks and Mindy just shrugs.

“I guess,” she admits when Anika shoots her a disapproving look which makes all of us chuckle.

“They’re cute and hot,” Tara teases with a smirk. “I mean, honestly guys, you’re like the power couple of all power couples!” 

Sam laughs bashfully and tightens her hold on my hand while I groan. “Sproouuut!”

“What?! It’s true,” Tara insists before her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve this. Enjoy your night.”

My cheeks are still warm, but I smile gratefully and dip my chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

Mindy and Anika wish us a great night too and then we’re off. 

It’s a little cold outside since it’s the beginning of March, so before we exit the building, I stop and take off my jacket, draping it around Sam’s shoulders before leading her the rest of the way to the car.

I make sure to open the door for her, which earns me another shy smile. It makes me feel accomplished and I quickly get into the driver’s seat to start our drive to the restaurant.

So far, so good, I think. 

“Where are you taking me?” Sam asks after some time when I come to a stop at a red light. 

I glance at her before looking back at the road and shrug casually. “It’s a surprise.”

“What? Still?” she whines playfully and out of the corner of my eye I can see her pout. 

I chuckle softly and reach over to squeeze her thigh quickly.  “Mhmm.”

The light turns green and I’m quick to take my hand back to put it back on the gear stick.

Sam huffs, but doesn’t push it. She places her hand on my thigh instead, and takes my phone with her other hand to change the music . 

Her warm touch makes my stomach do flips and for the rest of the drive I rest my hand on top of hers every chance I get.

“Alright, this is it,” I say when I finally pull up next to the high rise the restaurant is in. 

Sam’s jaw drops and she takes in the glass facade of the building with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” she asks and I just smile, getting out of the car and handing my keys to the approaching valet who’s dressed in a sleek black tux.

Then, I round the front of the car and open Sam’s door, offering her a hand when she gets out, which she gratefully accepts. 

“Y/N… What is this? What are we doing here? Is this a joke?” she asks, which makes me laugh softly. She goes to take the roses with her, but I stop her with a tug on her hand. They’d just get in the way in the restaurant, and it’s not like they’re going to wilt if they’re without water for another two hours or so.

“It’s not a joke, Sammy. We’re having dinner here. Well, not here, but in the restaurant on the sixty-eight floor,” I explain, watching her take in the building one more time before her eyes land back on me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I pulled a couple of strings to get a reservation tonight, but for her, I’d do anything. Yes, the food will probably be overpriced, and the other customers will probably be snobby and stuck up, but it will all be worth it for the view and the experience. 

“T-this is too much.” She hesitates when I go to lead her into the building, so I turn back around with an encouraging smile, letting go of her hand to wrap my arms around her waist.

She steps closer and I place a kiss on her forehead, making her close her eyes momentarily. “It’s not too much, Sam. I love you, and you deserve the world, so please let me treat you tonight.”

Sam looks at me with uncertainty shining in her eyes, so I place another kiss on her forehead, this time between her eyebrows. 

“Please?” I whisper and after another moment's consideration she nods. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she says, cupping my cheeks. She leans up to kiss me, still having to do so despite her heels, but I pull back which makes her frown.

“Your lipstick,” I try to explain, but she rolls her eyes and kisses me softly. 

After more than four months of being together, kissing her still sends shockwaves through my body. My cheeks feel like they're on fire where her hands are touching them and my lips tingle when she pulls back, mumbling, “I don’t care,” before pecking my lips once more and pulling away completely.

I stare at her like a love sick fool and smile sheepishly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies easily and after making sure her lipstick isn’t all too smudged, we finally make our way into the building and up to the restaurant.

I keep catching Sam glancing at me over her menu, so after the fifth or so time I put mine down and smile at her quizzically. “What?”

She looks around the dimly lit restaurant as if she’s afraid of someone overhearing her before leaning forward in her seat and saying, “This is weird, isn’t it? Why am I so nervous? We live together for God’s sake, and we’ve had dinner before. Not like this, obviously, but still. I mean, how come there are no prices on the menu? Is that normal? Is that how fancy restaurants like this trick you into ordering something super expensive or–?”

I laugh softly and place my hand over hers on the table, effectively cutting her off. “It is a little weird because we’ve never done this before and I’m nervous, too, but let’s not let the fact that we’re on our first official date be the reason why we have a bad time.” I smile  and bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Also, no, the restaurant isn’t trying to trick you into getting something super expensive. You just don’t have the prices on your menu because the waiter gave you what they call a ladies menu.” I grab my own menu and turn it around to show her that I have one with all the prices on it. “It’s weird, I know, and it’s a pretty outdated concept, but it is what it is and I want you to get whatever you want without feeling guilty about the cost, so maybe it’s a good thing.”

Sam presses her lips into a thin line because she still feels bad that I’m willing to spoil her all the time, so I send her a reassuring smile and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. 

“Come on, live a little, Sammy. What else am I supposed to spend all my inheritance on except you and Tara?”

That makes her crack a smile and after a while we’re ready to order.

While Sam gets the Coq au vin, I order the mushroom risotto, and when the server asks us if we want wine with our food, I decline politely.

A glass of white wine would pair great with my risotto, but Sam can’t drink because of her meds, so I’m not drinking either.

“So,” I say as soon as the server is gone again. “How was your day?”

Sam turns her attention from the brightly lit city outside to me and raises an eyebrow as if asking if I really want to hear about her day when there’s so much more we could be talking about.

I nod encouragingly and take a sip of my water, my entire attention fixed on her despite the stunning view of the city around us.

This is a first date, yes, and people normally don’t talk about their day on a first date, but we’ve known each other forever and I’m simply here to enjoy her company and spoil her.

“Well. . .” Sam goes on to tell me about her relatively stress-free morning at the cafe she works at as a barista before diving into the photography lecture she had this afternoon.

Ever since I got my new job and we moved in together, I’ve managed to convince her not to work full time any more and find something she actually enjoys doing. At first, it took a while for her to figure out what she liked after being in survival mode for so long, but then she discovered her love for photography which is how she ended up enrolling in a couple of community college classes. 

She tells me about a couple of lighting techniques I’ve never heard of and goes on to explain the differences between digital and film cameras.

It’s fascinating, really, how much there is to know about photography, and I keep asking follow up questions which makes Sam’s eyes light up. 

I love listening to her talk, especially about things she’s excited about, but after twenty minutes of non-stop rambling, she asks me to tell her about my day.

“Well,” I start the same way she did while she takes a sip of water, “I went to work until four and then I went to the gym before heading home and getting ready.”

I add some details about a particularly interesting meeting I had before telling her about  a guy who tripped over some dumbbells in the gym, which makes her laugh.

Conversation flows easily after that until we finally get our food which, as expected, tastes absolutely amazing despite its insane price. We share some bites here and there, letting the other try each dish before our table gets cleared and our server hands us some dessert menus.

We’re both more than full, but after some back and forth we decide to order some chocolate souffle to share because neither of us can resist its calling.

In the end, it tastes even better than expected and I tell the server to give our compliments to the chef when he comes back to pick up the empty plate. 

After that, Sam excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and I’m quick to pay the check before she gets back.

“Ready to go?” I ask when she returns to the table which makes her smile and nod.

“Yes, let’s go home.”

I grab my jacket off the back of her chair and help her put it on again before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the restaurant.

Back on the street, the valet has already pulled my car around, so I tip him generously and help Sam into the car before getting in myself and driving off.

“Thank you for tonight,” Sam says after a moment of silence. “I had a lot of fun, and the food was terrific.”

I can’t look at her because I have to focus on the road, but I do smile and dip my chin to acknowledge that I heard her, adding, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

Letting out a sigh of contentment, Sam places a hand on my thigh and lets silence wash over us while I continue driving us home.

It’s peaceful, and I feel all warm inside, knowing that she enjoyed the night as much as I have, but then her hand on my thigh starts moving upwards which makes my heart skip a beat. 

For a moment I think it might have been unintentional, but then she moves it even higher, and when I risk a glance at her I find her already looking at me with dark eyes.

“Sam. . .” I swallow thickly and shift in my seat, almost letting out a gasp when she starts tracing circles on the inside of my thigh with her thumb.

“Yes?” she asks, feigning innocence.

“D–Don’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says calmly and I grit my teeth when her hand moves up even further.

Since getting together we’ve had our fair share of kisses and make out sessions, but we never went further than that. In the beginning it was because of my back and then because we never really had any time for it with me figuring out my new job and Sam readjusting to her new life and finally doing something she likes. Tara being over constantly doesn’t help either, but tonight nothing is holding us back and Sam seems to know that.

I pull into the underground parking garage of our building in record time a couple of minutes later before turning off the car and leaning over the center console to capture Sam’s lips in a searing kiss.

She immediately reciprocates it and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss.

She tastes like the souffle we shared and I can’t help but shiver at the sound of a soft moan slipping past her lips when I trap her lower lip between my teeth.

The position we’re in isn’t comfortable by any means, but we don’t pull apart until we’re both panting, desperate for air.

“Shit,” Sam curses under her breath and when she looks at me I see nothing but desire in her half-lidded eyes.

“Should we take this upstairs?” I ask which makes Sam nod adamantly.

I jump out of the car and hurry to the other side of it to open Sam’s door and help her out.

“Thank you,” she says, still breathless, and before I know it her lips are on mine again as we stumble toward the elevator.

It’s hot and messy, but I can’t get enough of her and when we finally make it to our apartment we waste no time kicking off our shoes and making our way to the bedroom. 

As soon as the door slams shut behind us, Sam pushes me against it, her hands in my hair at the back of my neck to pull me infinitely closer.

My hands are around her waist, grasping at the fabric of her dress while our lips move against each other in a passionate kiss.

Sooner rather than later, much to my dismay, we’re both forced to break apart once again to catch our breath. 

Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it though because her lips find their way to my neck while her hands move down my body until they settle on my hips where her fingers play with the buckle of my belt.

It’s clear what she wants, but I don’t want to go on until she actually says it, so, reluctantly, I pull back so she’s forced to look up at me.

“Wha– Are you okay?” she pants, her lust filled eyes momentarily clouded with concern.

I chuckle breathlessly and tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from stepping out of our embrace.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, pecking her lips. “But I need to know you’re okay with where this is heading.”

“I’m okay, I want this,” she whispers. She tugs on my belt and stands on her tiptoes to whisper the next part into my ear. “So would you please take my dress off and fuck me already?”

A strangled sound slips past my lips and I pull my head back so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash because of it. “You– You want me to. . . What?”

Sam smiles mischievously and bites her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “You heard me,” she mumbles, “Fuck me.”

Goddamn.

I swallow harshly, hearing my heart pounding in my ears, but within the next second it’s as if a switch has been flipped in me.

I bend down and lift her up by the back of her legs, making her squeal in surprise before my lips are back on hers.

The position we’re in makes her dress ride up, but she doesn’t seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts grinding against my stomach.

“Fuck,’” I gasp when she bites my bottom lip and carry her to bed, making her laugh briefly when I unceremoniously dump her onto it so I can get to work on taking off my clothes while she watches.  

Once I’ve discarded all of them, I join her on the bed, making quick work of her dress while she runs her hands over my shoulders and nibbles on my earlobe. 

“I love you,” I whisper a couple of minutes later when she arches her back and moans against my lips.

“I. . . love you, too,” she sobs, her eyes screwed shut while her nails dig into my back and I’m quick to kiss her again to swallow her next moans and whimpers.

The next morning I wake up without Sam by my side, but when I sit up I smile at the smell of pancakes wafting into the bedroom. 

_______________________________________________

And they lived happily ever after!

Hi, everyone! I'm not back for good yet, but I just had to write this because it's been stuck in my head ever since finishing Back To You.

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who was part of creating the Back To You Playlist ❤️ I love you all and words cannot describe how honored I feel.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

* not proofread yet ‘cause I’m lazyyyyy

[mcflymemes]

"TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN" BY SLEEP TOKEN PROMPTS *  assorted lines from the album, some slightly reworked to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary

it was no accident.

you keep me sharp and test my worth in blood.

you've got me in a chokehold.

it's all the same to me.

it makes no difference.

i've seen my days unfold.

i've done the impossible.

show me that which i cannot see, even if it hurts me.

show me the way.

you've got my body.

raise me up again.

take me past the edge.

i want to see the other side.

won't you show me what it's like?

did i mistake you for a sign from god?

are you really here to cast me off?

maybe you're here just to turn me on.

i would be lying if i told you that i didn't wish i could be your man.

you won't ever have to talk about it.

i was more than just a body in your passenger seat.

you were more than just somebody i was destined to meet.

i see you go half-blind when you're looking at me.

you gave me nothing whatsoever.

you say you want me, but you know i'm not what you need.

you sit there acting like you know me.

if you had a problem, then you should've told me.

keep an eye on the road.

i can't get enough.

no wonder my ears are still ringing.

you have become the voice in my head.

my life is torn.

are you in pain like i am?

will the pain stop if we go deeper?

i wanna go where nobody else will ever go.

there is always something in the way i wanna have you to myself for once.

you take what you want, then leave.

who made you like this?

tell me you met me in past lives.

won't you come and dance in the dark with me?

anything's better than the way i feel right now.

you make me wish i could disappear.

don't you know i was trying to hold back the darkness?

are you really okay?

you woke me up one night, dripping crimson on the carpet.

i saw it in your eyes.

don't you know i could see it in you even now?

i cannot fix your wounds this time.

i don't believe you when you tell me you are fine.

please don't hurt yourself again.

why are you never real?

i am trembling with fear.

this scar will never fade.

just let me go or take me with you.

do you wish that you loved me?

is there something you give that you will never receive in return?

do you know what it is?

are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?

can you ever forgive yourself?

do you ever believe that we can turn into different people?

it's getting harder to be myself.

for so long, i have waited.

i don't wanna get in your way.

touch me again.

you have got your hooks in me.

you get what you give.

i can hear you say my name.

no one told you where to go.

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

i need you to see me for what i have become.

we've no idea what we've got until we lose it.

it was no accident.

give me five whole minutes.

call me when you get the chance.

do you remember me?

do you still believe that nothing else matters?

the night belongs to you.

i must be someone new.

you will not be mine.

[pillowspace]

Could you share more about your modern no loops au?

Oh, I'd love to!!!! So I have a 10k word draft currently. Haven't touched it since December because I've been writing other things, but I'd like to return to it when I'm done. I didn't actually know what I was writing until I started. I decided to go for the first line I could think of, which was:

So I had to build an AU off of that from that point onward.

It's a bit of a "post-canon" setting in a sense, except neither Siffrin nor Loop have met the party yet, and the two live together in an apartment. At some point, Loop's attacked, and they begin to bleed out in an alleyway. Odile catches sight of them and rushes to help. They appreciate her efforts, but they die anyway.

They've died plenty of times before though...! So they wake back up. They still have the stranger's coat from when she was trying to help, so they hide within it and head back home, feeling bad for having likely traumatized a random person with the sight of them dying.

A few months go by after this though, and Odile stumbles upon Loop at the library. Loop doesn't recognize her at first, but Odile recognizes THEM, and proceeds to accidentally corner them which freaks Loop out.

Odile, a complete stranger, instantly wants to know everything about Loop. How their life has gone, how they're alive, etc. So Loop decides that they DON'T LIKE ODILE, but that they'll at least find the time to bring her coat back to her to repay the favour of when they had died.

After Loop returns home, Siffrin reveals to Loop that he's... worried about them. Loop's been entirely dependent on him the entire time, and he thinks that they should have friends. Loop denies needing anyone but them, all the while struggling with bottled up trauma they want to talk about but are unwilling to go to Siffrin for.

This sticks to Loop though. Next time they see Odile at the library, they get to talk to her now a bit less freaked out, and return her coat to her. (This isn't art directly of the fic but I did draw this after writing Loop returning the coat). She reveals some of her curiosities about Loop, and although Loop still doesn't want to answer, they're curious what she means by the word "explore."

Loop makes a bit of a mistake though. They accidentally give Siffrin the impression that they're friends with Odile now, and Siffrin's happy for them!

Loop doesn't want to correct them though, so instead accidentally snaps at them for pestering them for the details on this totally real friendship.

There's a lot of hints scattered throughout the fic of Loop having very bad trauma. A large star-shaped scar on their chest. Implications that they're very familiar with Siffrin's blood. Having nightmares and waking up feeling like they have to kill Siffrin. Being so used to panicking whenever they wake up without Siffrin being there that they already know how to try and calm themself down.

I haven't gotten to writing the interview itself yet, but I want for Loop and Odile to actually start to become friends. I want for Loop to finally agree to an interview. And perhaps in an Interview with the Vampire (2022) style of things, start off completely contradictory and rewrite how it all started based on their own outbursts of emotions. Odile would catch onto this though, and get them to stick to the truth or not answer at all.

And thus, through much trial and error, Loop would eventually tell the story of meeting King. A nice man who Loop had once been friends with (it takes a LOT to pry that out of Loop), before they were ever Loop, but rather Siffrin. Loop would talk about how they had grown close over being from the same forgotten country, but that they'd come to learn that King had... other motives in wanting to get close to another Islander.

King had been studying something called Wish Craft.

King wanted to immortalize the Island's memory. Or at least, the memory that something existed from it. Perhaps somehow, some way, King could use Wish Craft to make things right again.

So what better way to try than to immortalize Loop?

Loop was betrayed and made to be a personal test subject. They weren't the first person to be a test subject, but they were the first success to survive it. Loop died very frequently those days, and after a long enough time, they reached a breaking point. They didn't want to suffer alone!! They wanted company!!! They wanted Help!!!!

Which tore Loop's strength out of them to create Siffrin.

Loop cannot regret Siffrin. But they regretted it at the time, as the experiments... lessened... on Loop, while the focus instead shifted onto Siffrin. The two were all each other had, so it pained Loop to have their burden fall onto him. Another regret was that Loop had become significantly weaker after Siffrin came to be, giving them less of a chance to fight back and escape. Loop was very protective of Siffrin, all the while wondering if they should just permanently kill him to get their strength back and escape. Towards the end, they almost went through with it.

They didn't though. The two eventually escaped together, sticking close to each other and occasionally moving from town to town while keeping their past secret.

I imagine that Loop will need... a lot of time and effort to tell Odile about all that though. They're very hesitant to even tell her that Siffrin exists, still wary about trusting her.

So between interviews, Loop and Odile just hang out, and Loop will come home to Siffrin who continues to live his own life. Loop will find themself healing just as Siffrin manages to.

If I do finish this fic, I would like for Loop and Siffrin to wind up friends with the whole party in it.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Thirty One)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Party Thirty One: Cillian is finally on his way home, having wrapped filming for Peaky. But Y/N finds a missed message from him, containing a link, that makes her feel like all of her autonomy and anonymity is stripped. She recalls the day she met Cillian a second time, trying to remind herself what matters, but anxiety looms heavy. [Angst/Anxiety]

@strangeions @watermeezer @borntodiemp3 @meadowshelby @lavender-haze-01 @cherry-cilly @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme

Very quickly proof read so sorry for typos.

---------

The agony of a week home without him, despite knowing Cillian would be returning, was slowly making way to the pure excitement and ever present want to jump his bones, knowing that his flight had been due to land a little while ago and he would be here, at home, with you soon. You had finished work less than half an hour ago, and in the time between then and now you had been so giddy, you could hardly sit still. He was coming home, for the long run, and that felt monumental - despite you having done this whole routine many times before. You try to occupy yourself with your week of laundry in the small back room, off the kitchen, but when the five minute job is completed, you once again find yourself like a child waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. Pulling the laundry room door shut behind you, you wonder if making coffee would settle you down any. You check the water level in the kettle before flicking the switch, and grab your preferred mug from the cupboard. You picked your phone from the pocket of your hoodie and unlocked it before you dragged down the notification bar. Nothing from Cillian about being on the way home yet, but there was a text from Cillian from earlier in the day that you'd somehow missed. Frowning at the oddity, you click open the message.

We are going to have to talk to the boys and Yvonne. [link]

You stare at the message then click the link. Your screen opens up to a page in The Sun and, as you scan the article, you grow more and more nervous.

Peaky Blinders star Cillian Murphy was spotted on sets in the recent weeks, all across locations in the UK, alongside familiar faces such as Sophie Rundle, Packy Lee and Ned Dennehy. Most recently, the Cork native was seen with his long-term girlfriend, Y/N, who was visiting their set. Murphy and Y/N began a relationship after the breakdown of his marriage to ex-wife Yvonne McGuinness. McGuinness and Murphy share two children. On set, Y/N was photographed alongside film director Tom Harper and writer Steven Knight. She was seen laughing with Johnny Dogs actor Packy Lee before she was later seen cuddling up to Murphy. But it seems disaster struck when Y/N was photographed vomiting on the set, comforted by the Tommy Shelby actor dutifully. I don't know if we're all wondering what you're all wondering, but is this a sign of the pitter-patter of tiny feet to come? Famously guarded about his private life, we suspect any announcements to be made would not likely come from Cillian himself. Fans are said to be looking forward to the release of the Peaky Blinders film in the coming twelve months.

Your hand shakes as you scan the photographs, shaking your head. Your stomach flips nervously. Shit! Part of you is thankful that it is this being shared, and not that anyone had shared the row on the set beforehand. But fuck! You set your phone down onto the island and cross your arms under your bust. Cillian's going to be in a mood, and you're going to have to do one thing you were staunchly against, and that's sharing the news before you're comfortable with it. Part of you wonders if perhaps his sons and Yvonne wouldn't have seen it - they're used to nonsense reports with no real information in them, so maybe they'd just pass it over if it was seen? But your anxiety is focused so hard on the possibility that speaking now will jinx your pregnancy, it's hard to keep your mind on anything more tangible - other than the fact that you know Cillian is going to be in bad humour! You do rationalise the fact that it doesn't actually give any definite information at all, but you also worry that if this was seen, then perhaps your conversation was heard or, worse yet, was shared.

You lean your back against the island counter and try to find something better in your mind. Cillian still hasn't materialised and all you want is him here, to plan what's next if he really thinks that there's a danger of his sons being hurt in this. You close your eyes as you breathe steadily, trying hard to keep calm, and you're thankful when your mind brings forward the day you met Cillian for the second time, completely coincidentally. You focused on the day, the details, and allowed the whole thing to play out in your mind.

“That's twelve euro,” the young girl behind the counter says with a smile. She has a green streak in the front of her black hair, and her bottom lip is pierced on both sides. She has a beautiful smile, though, and her eyes sparkle lightly.

You tap your card against the machine and push it back into your purse, then smile as she hands you your book and receipt. “Thanks,” you nod as you walk away, tucking the receipt into your pocket. You keep hold of the book as you step out of Eason's and back out onto O'Connell Street. You step away from the doorway and examine your book, vaguely aware you're still blocking a busy street, and begin to walk back towards the bridge. You glance up occasionally, making sure you're not walking into a pole, and as you look up again you jump and gasp, narrowly avoiding colliding with the denim jacketed back of a man before you. “Shit! Sorry!” You quickly apologise as you somehow managed to fling your book into their back as you startled. You crouch to the floor, picking up your book, and as you rise back up you come face to face with someone familiar. “Hey…” you say, frowning a little. “Cillian, right?” It's the pale blue eyes and flicking hair that gives it away, you're sure, and then he smiles as you say his name and you're absolutely certain.

“Y/N?” He says, pointing at you with a questioning expression.

You nod your head, “Yep.” You smile nervously. “I'm sorry - I threw my book at you.” You turn down the corners of your mouth. “I wasn't looking. I am sorry, really.” You insist.

“Ah, you're grand.” He shakes his head.

“Well, it's good to see you. And sorry again,” you say, gesturing past him and the person he's with. “Bye.”

“Yeah, see ya,” he says, stepping aside. “Ah, here,” he calls as you get about five steps away. You turn back, eyebrows raised. “I take it you didn't curse me?”

“Curse you?” You frown, shaking your head, and slowly step back towards him and his friend.

“Plastic Ono Band album…” he says, vaguely.

You grin brightly, “No - no actually, you have my adulation for that. It is a…remarkable album.” You say as you stuff your book awkwardly into your bag. “And it led me onto some Beatles tracks I wasn't so familiar with, too. So you, I dunno, broadened my horizons.” You chuckle.

Cillian laughs, “Then you're welcome.” He turns to the man beside him, “I met Y/N a few weeks ago, we were stranded at Busáras together.” He explains, then turns back to you. “This is a friend and colleague of mine, Steven.” He introduces you.

“Hi, Steven.” You nod politely. Steven shares a greeting just as politely, and his accent is fiercely English.

“We're just splitting up actually,” he says to you. “We were just saying our goodbyes there when you assaulted me.” He teases.

“Yes, sorry again,” you smile, but you're not entirely sure if he's being funny or not.

“Yeah, I'll say goodbye.” Steven says, and he gives Cillian a gentle hug before nodding at you again politely.

“Good luck,” Cillian calls out, and he turns as Steven walks away, watching him go. Turning back to you, he smiles brightly. “What are the odds of meeting a complete stranger more than once?” He laughs a little.

“Serendipitous, clearly.” You smile. “It was nice to see you again, and thank you again for the music, and for not wanting to have me questioned by the Guards for assaulting you.” You say, hoping you've caught onto a satirically delivered joke he was making.

He laughs, his tongue peeking over his teeth, and you remember how much you'd like it that day in the station. “Ah, no bother.” He says as he pushes his hands into his jeans pockets. “What was the book?” He asks, and you feel like he's keeping you around, looking for reasons to keep this up. Not that you mind - you're not rushing anywhere on a work-free Saturday.

“Oh, an old one. I had it on order at Eason's.” You say. “Only got it for a trip next week.” you dip your hand into your bag and pull the book back out, handing it over to him. “Read it?” You ask, “My friend at work suggested it, says it's an Irish writer and kinda beloved here by the right minds.” You laugh. He's smiling and you can't work it out, and he hands the book back with a chuckle. “What?” You ask, nervously, and look at the book again. “Is it really bad?”

“No,” he smirks, “No it's very good.” You pushes his hands into his pockets again, still smiling.

You look at him, then then book. “Odd name though, isn't it? Gives nothing away. Breakfast on Pluto…” you shake your head and push the book back into your bag.

“Are you free?” He asks bluntly.

“Free?” You raise your eyebrows, glancing around you quickly.

“Coffee?” he suggests.

You smile and nod your head, “Yeah, sure. Coffee.”

You startle as your phone buzzes across the island counter, and bring yourself back to the present with a sigh. You pick up your phone, relieved to see ‘Cill’ in the notification bar. You slide it down and open his message.

“In a taxi, be home soon. Get the kettle on. See you soon mo ghrá.”

You click your phone off and hold it tightly in your hand, sighing again. It is a relief to know he is coming home now, and it is a relief to know you'll be able to curl up beside him whenever you want for the foreseeable, but you are frightened about what he would choose to do now regarding that article. You know you can argue the point that it doesn't say anything truly, but you're fairly sure he's made up his mind and will want the boys and Yvonne to know sooner than later. You don't want words uttered before you're comfortable with it, you do appreciate why he might. But anxiety won't allow you to feel easy about it at all - it'd jinx everything to talk about the baby before the scan, and then you'd have to go around telling anyone that had been told, that something had gone wrong.

You set your phone down and grip both hands against the counter, feeling your sickly, low-burning nausea ramping up. You swallow hard and blow soothing breaths out in the hopes it'll ease the queasiness, but you suspect you're fighting a losing battle. You walk towards the sink and lift the washing up bowl out of it, and hover above expectantly, but hopeful that the impending gag doesn't rise. But you do gag, twice, and you brace your hands on the sink as the stomach lurches. Fuck! You can't get used to this. By some miracle you don't actually vomit, but the gags are painful nonetheless. When you feel like it's safe, you straighten up and replace the bowl into the sink. You rest your back against the sink and rest your head into your hands, sighing heavily, and feeling a sudden overwhelming urge to cry.

You don't want to share your news before you're ready. You don't want to see your life plastered across sites and pages. And you realise this is exactly what Cillian was scared of happening. You feel foolish, stupid, and pathetic. This is supposed to be happy, and it sucks so much. For the first time since the press associated with his divorce, you find yourself absolutely hating what Cillian does and the fame associated with it.

[hereternalsins]

One day, I won't love you anymore.

- rose ( herdivinemuse via instagram)

Five years of memories. Two years of silence. And now, three months of trying to rebuild what was broken, only to find that some cracks run deeper than time can heal.

She watches him across their favorite café—the same one where they used to spend Sunday mornings years ago. His coffee order hasn't changed: black, no sugar. But something else has. The way he holds himself, perhaps, or the careful distance in his eyes even when he smiles.

"Do you know?" she begins, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. "In these five years, you've always been perfect and irreplaceable in my heart. But if we continue like this, I feel that... one day, I won't love you anymore."

The words hang between them like frost on a window pane—beautiful in their honesty, terrible in their implications. She watches them land, sees him flinch slightly, the way he always does when truth cuts too close to bone.

They'd thought it would be easier the second time around. After all, they knew each other's stories, could map each other's scars. The muscle memory of loving each other remained intact through those two years apart—the way he still reaches to brush her hair back when she's tired, how she automatically orders extra pickles for his burgers.

But with the familiar rhythms came the old ghosts. His tendency to retreat into silence when troubled. Her habit of expecting him to read her mind. The same misunderstandings that drove them apart the first time now hover at the edges of their reconciliation, waiting to reclaim their territory.

They'd spent those two years apart growing, changing, becoming better versions of themselves. She'd learned to voice her needs instead of hoping they'd be noticed. He'd worked on expressing his emotions instead of bottling them up. But somehow, together, they keep slipping back into their old roles—like actors who know their lines too well to play them differently.

"I still find your coffee cups in my apartment," he says quietly. "From before. I never could bring myself to throw them away."

She nods, understanding the weight of small things kept. She too has a box of memories she couldn't discard—movie tickets, dried flowers, photographs where their smiles still held certainty.

"Maybe that's our problem," she replies. "We're trying to fit new people into an old story."

The truth is, loving him has never been the problem. It's the easiest thing she's ever done, as natural as breathing. But loving someone and being able to build a life with them are different things. The past two years taught her that. They both learned it, separately, in their own ways.

"I don't want to lose you again," he says, reaching across the table. His fingers stop just short of hers, a gesture that encompasses everything wrong with their situation—always almost touching, almost understanding, almost getting it right.

"We're not the same people who fell in love five years ago," she tells him. "And we're not the same people who broke up two years ago either. Maybe we need to stop trying to be."

The afternoon light slants through the café windows, casting long shadows across their table. Outside, the city moves in its endless rhythm, indifferent to the small apocalypse happening over cooling coffee cups.

"Then who are we?" he asks, and there's something like hope in his voice—fragile but present.

She looks at him, really looks at him, seeing both the man she fell in love with and the stranger he's become. "Maybe that's what we need to find out," she says. "Not who we were, or who we think we should be, but who we are now."

The silence that follows feels different from their usual ones—not heavy with unspoken words, but open, waiting. Like a blank page rather than a closed book.

"I meant what I said," she continues softly. "You've been perfect and irreplaceable in my heart. But perfect isn't what I need anymore. I need real. I need now. I need us to stop haunting each other with who we used to be."

He nods slowly, and for the first time in months, his smile reaches his eyes. "Then maybe we should start over," he suggests. "Not from five years ago, or from two years ago, but from right here."

She feels something shift in her chest—not the familiar ache of old love, but something newer, something that tastes like possibility. "Hi," she says, extending her hand across the table. "I'm still learning who I am. Would you like to figure it out together?"

This time, when he reaches for her hand, he doesn't stop short.

[blauerhund]

Pauls contribution to the Spy Museum Berlin

See: https://rammwiki.net/wiki/Spy_Museum_Berlin_(soundtrack)

I recently visited Berlin and wanted to check out the spy museum Paul did the music for, ze Deutsches Spionagemuseum, which is located at Potsdamer Platz. It's probably the last Rammstein related spot left that I've been wanting to check out in the city and I finally came about doing so in the one day I was there. The last time they unfortunately had a fire alarm going on, so I couldn't go in, but this time I succeeded!

I really ... I can't get myself to be interested in History Museums and the like, I don't know why. Maybe it's because my dad dragged us kids through every single castle, open air farm museum and medieval market South Germany had to offer at the time, resulting in the adverse effect of me, as an adult, feeling like I need to go sit down after having taken five steps into a Natural History Museum. I guess that means I'm satiated. Sometimes I visit art exhibitions though, but even those drain me so much, I just about run through them and am in a bad mood afterward. Have you heard of Museum Fatigue, because that's a real thing! Anyhow, that's why I made it my mission to walk through the spy museum looking only for the music bits playing. I spent about 10€ at the entrance and then walked in through something resembling a personnel sluice.

At first, I thought they had removed the music as I didn't hear any sounds at all for quite some time after going in, apart from some shooting noise coming from the one corner. However, on the second floor I made out a brawarahh and pushed past info screens, a real-life Trabi and spy standees trying to find out where the sound was coming from. I wanted to try recording some of it as well.

The speakers were put up high above, and I stood there looking like a complete nut holding one arm outstretched above my head pointing my phone at the ceiling. Luckily there weren't too many people there, but what does it matter to me, I was on my mission.

Ever since I had first heard about it, I've been wondering how Paul came about doing this. I guess the most likely explanation is him having a friend involved with the spy museum, asking him if he wanted to put a small part in or something similar. I think Paul is someone who would be happy contributing to a culturally significant occasion or institution, if he sees fit. As can be seen on his Instagram, he does like to look at attractions and things alike, and I imagine him being quite enthusiastic about doing so:

https://www.instagram.com/paullanders_official/p/B1gYv3hoByc/?hl=de&img_index=1

Look at the last picture – he has a good time. I think it's often the bunch consisting of him, Olli and Schneider out and about looking at local attractions and exploring the cities they play in. Jens tagging along from time to time :^)

The Spionagemuseum has quite a few things you can get hands on with, like solving small riddles or trying out a lie detector test. Or even making your way through a laser field! I, well, I just looked at it, but I can see Paul getting in there, rolling around on the floor. It's definitely a well produced exhibition!

They also showed footage of spy movies like Jason Bourne, Mission Impossible, James Bond and so on, with music playing next to it and, you know, I'm quite confident that one wasn't done by Herr Paul Landers, but just the original score. Although there is a song in the laser room where I was sure it was a movies soundtrack as well, but on the RammWiki page there is a song called "Laser Room" so it must be from Paul! Only goes to show his versatility :) Correct me in case I'm wrong and it's a film score after all.

At first, I wanted to include my recordings in this post, then I got a bit scared of violating copyright law, so I'm not gonna share them here (unless we have a German law expert on here telling me it would be fine?), but feel free to DM me. It's mostly eerie sounds, plus that one film score-like bit.

I think I feel rebellious enough for a little snippet though, so if you want to have a taste of Pauls soundtrack composer career, have a listen:

[ryuzakemo128]

Desserts

Pairing: Poly141 x Pirate Hunter! Princess! Female Reader

Content Warning: Fluff, desserts, dessert names, mead tasting and mead names, Simon is spoiled with extra slices of cake. Nikolai is added because why not?

Masterlist

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Word Count: 828

Summary: “I don’t want you spoiling it before he sees it.” You whinged and whined.

You were certain Simon would have tasted them before. But nothing shocked you more than hearing his deep voice say the word 'no' and then followed with a 'I haven't had something like that'.

In your own humble opinion, this needed to be rectified and fast. At beyond light speed levels of urgency. No, you don't care if it wasn't a real emergency. Your heart is dead set on spoiling him rotten.

You pulled out all the stops to ensure the whole thing went as smoothly as possible. John was told by you half a dozen times to keep it a surprise because, “I don’t want you spoiling it before he sees it.” You whinged and whined.

John? Well, he smirked and replied, “Aye, I ken he would enjoy it lass, but it’s not about what he enjoys, is it? It’s about the surprise.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Now, come on, I want to show you the teas I picked out to go with it.” You were brimming with so much excitement. “I got Earl Grey, some of that fancy French blend you mentioned, plus some other ones I haven’t tried yet.”

John smiled from ear to ear, fully, knowing just how much worked you put into this in just a few hours. You weren’t the type for grand gestures for yourself. No. No, you preferred going all out on them and them alone. You loved spoiling them to bits. As you pulled him into the captain’s quarters to show him how much work you’ve done so far.

“Just wait till he sees this. He’s going to love it, isn’t he?” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

John smirked, whispering in your ear, “I think he’ll love it.” He surveyed the meticulously arranged tray of pastries. “Aye, I think he’ll melt from the sweetness of it all, lass. You’ve got the touch, that’s for sure.” His eyes twinkled with mirth, enjoying your enthusiasm.

“And the tablecloth? It is made from a linen with white lace on the edges just to create a softer atmosphere. I even got matching seat cushions.” You were beyond excited. “And the blue isn’t a pastel blue or a baby blue. It’s more of a blue-gray colour tone.”

As you continued to set the room up, Simon and Price were sent off on purpose to get odd things to keep Simon busy and to keep Price from spoiling the surprise for Simon too.

The purple candles smelling of lavender were set up around the room to give off a welcoming scent inside the cabin. The candlelight danced off the surfaces of the ebony varnished and  polished wood. You went as far as to procure a fresh bouquet of Lilly of The Valley flowers to give a gentler appeal.

“Nikolai, is there anything else I can add?” you asked him, you loved getting the Russian’s input on things like this. It was like he knew how to make everything ten times more extravagant without it being too over the top.

Nikolai, the burly man with a heart of gold, looked around the cabin, stroking his beard in thought. “Da, I believe a bottle of fine brandy would be a fitting addition to this delightful surprise, yes?” His eyes sparkled with a knowing look.

Gaz interjected with, “How about some of those rare cigars we picked up from that merchant in Tortuga? They’re supposed to be the best in the seven seas, and I reckon this occasion calls for it, doesn’t it?”

“ooo good thinking, if you know where I stashed them, we can add them too.” You remarked.

Once Simon and Price came back to see what you did for him? The look on his face was priceless, no one in his life had ever gone out of their way to do something like this before and all he could muster, “Why did you go and do that for?” He was clearly tearing up at the gesture alone.

You looked at him with a mischievous smile on your face, “Because I think you deserve it, far more than you think you do.”

Simon visibly and audibly moved by it. He looked around the entire room, taking in all the candles, the sweet scent of lavender in the air, and the soft blue-gray tones. The intimate, serene ambiance. He wasn’t one for grand gestures or romantic surprises. The genuine thought, effort, and enthusiasm behind it all. It had rendered him speechless.

You pulled him into a bear hug before he could say anything else, adding another layer of warmth and affection to the already surprising gesture laid out. To the world, he’s ghost. For you? He’s Simon. Simon, the guy with dark humour and dry sarcasm that you enjoyed so much.

They suppose this is the moment when they all knew, you were theirs and theirs alone.

[crownmemes]

Supernatural & Paranormal Sentences, Vol. 12

(Sentences from various sources for muses exploring the unexplained. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"There's an explanation for everything, but people would rather believe in ghosts and demons."

"Okay, great, now you're scared away the werewolf!"

"If I were you, I might consider that not all knowledge is worth having."

"Do you ever have one of those moments where suddenly you understand everything?"

"Put your flashlight on. Zombies hate bright light."

"There are no mysteries. Not anymore."

"All I know is that I was dead and now I'm not, and that everything has changed for me."

"Have you ever conducted an exorcism of a child?"

"There's darkness in the forest. Nightmares you can't even begin to imagine. Things we were never meant to see."

"I don't need an exorcism!"

"You can't enter into time, but sometimes time can try to enter into the present - break in, burst through and take things."

"Those things, they walk, they never run - you ever notice that? It's like they're taking their time because they know there's only so many places we can go."

"Do you know why you're afraid when you're alone? I do."

"I see dead people."

"Have you been reading the conspiracy theories?"

"I followed these visions for the last five years because I thought they were real. Now, I'm not sure."

"At some point, you either adapt, or you lose your mind."

"I think that's why you're sad. You can't figure it out anymore. Things have gotten weird, and you don't like it."

"Ghosts don't have nervous breakdowns!"

"Why does everything have to be understandable? Why can't some things be unacceptable and we just say that?"

"You know how sometimes you dream and you forget, but then later you start to remember, and you realise that it wasn't a dream and all of it maybe really happened?"

"Try not to get into any trouble, and don't kill any demons without me!"

"Life isn't all tarot cards and pagan blood glyphs, you know!"

"I don't trust these people. There's something really weird here."

"I wasn't hallucinating, trust me! I've done a fuck ton of drugs; I know what hallucinations feel like, and this was different!"

"Do you really believe you see demons and devils?"

"Do you ever know something and don't know how you know it?"

"There are more things possible on this earth than you could ever dream of."

"Do ghosts always tell the truth? Are they trustworthy?"

"Time itself is in danger."

"I told you that place was haunted, but you wouldn't believe me, would you?"

"You know, before I started working with you, I was a normal person. I never questioned my sanity."

"Maybe you don't have a real face. Not the human kind, anyway. Am I right?"

"How long has it been haunting this place?"

"Do you think what happened to you is a miracle?"

"No one expects a ghost to punch them on the jaw!"

"Time is not as rigid a concept as most people would believe."

"As scientists, we have to acknowledge when something is beyond our knowledge."

"There are two things we are charged with in this life: living with our mistakes, and endeavouring to learn from them."

"People like the idea of conspiracies. It makes life easier, don't you think?"

"You're hunting for a man, but you need to start hunting for a beast."

[kittyrosecatqueen]

Random Thoughts: Hazbin Musical

If your playlist was filled with song covers by the Hellaverse (Hazbin Hotel/Hellava Boss) cast, what songs would go with which character and why? I have a few ideas on this topic, so here's what I think would make for some good covers.

Charlie Morningstar (Solo): "Strong" by Anne Wilson. This one just sounds like a Charlie song to me, and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I can hear her sing this when running the hotel is becoming too much for her, I don't know. But I like it though, that's what matters.

Vaggie (Duet with Angel Dust): "Held" by Natalie Grant. Two sides of the same coin of suffering. On the one hand, Vaggie is dealing the aftermath of her rebellion against Heaven. On the other hand, Angel is struggling hard with his addictions and abuse. Both of them would be inwardly crying out for help, maybe even questioning what it means to be held. Who knows, it could even get them to better understand each other. Not a perfect 1-1 ratio, but the idea still works.

Husk (Solo): "The Motions" by Mathew West. You could also assign this to Angel Dust, but in terms of the actual lyrics and Husk's story arc, I think this fits him pretty well. Husk had closed his heart to love many years ago, but with the advent of him learning to open up again, this could be a good song for him to come to terms with rediscovering his feelings. And acting on them if someone's in trouble.

Angel Dust (Duet with Husk): "Take It All Back" by Tauren Wells, We The Kingdom, and Davies. If there's any sort of song that would depict Angel finally taking back his life, it would be this one. Battling Valentino for (literally) his very soul, along with a similar battle between Husk and Alastor, I can see Angel doing whatever it takes to steal his contract away from his abuser once and for all. Anything, including a battle to the death. Not a perfect 1-1 ratio, but I think it works. Are you noticing a pattern yet in my choices?

Alastor (Solo): "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot(?). I have no reason for this, it just popped into my head for some reason. Maybe Alastor could sing this as some kind of serenade, I don't know.

Niffty (Solo): "Welcome to the Show" by Britt Nicole. This one has Niffty vibes all over it, and I don't know why. But, think about it. She could totally sing this song while she's either hunting for bad boys, or exorcists. It's almost as wild as she is.

Cherri Bomb (Solo): "Anthem" by Superchick. Thinking about this now, I realize that this song would fit perfectly with Cherri's explosive personality. It's loud, wild, and unapologetic, all words that match up with Cherri's story. Wonder what she'd think about all that?

Sir Pentious (Possible duet with Lucifer): "Place in this World" by For King and Country. When I hear this version of the song, I just see Sir Pentious and his story play out in a way (along with a bit of Lucifer's). If you know the story of Sir Pentious, then you'd know that he had a hard time trying to prove himself as one of Hell's greatest threats. But that didn't work out so well for him, especially since he gave it all up when he joined Charlie and the gang at the Hazbin Hotel. Not a perfect comparison, but I do think the lyrics seem to fit Sir Pentious really well.

I will post more ideas for song covers if I think of more of them.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent

[aberooski]

I love my gx winx au and I love that it's just bits and pieces of me being like oh that's fun and not having any semblance of lore or plot. It's purely contained to the character designs I've drawn for the girls.

[akqrus]

Some Adrien anti commented on my post and invalidated Adrien's experience with emotional abuse... I hope u choke on shit 🥺🫶🏼

[crossbackpoke-check]

i've been thinking a lot about the mojoe show, especially how i miss seeing them together and somehow, i stumbled on your blog and all your tags about them (joe in specific) speak directly to me!

no go on... what are the tags saying to you... come join the mojo(e) jojo hive mind...

[girltomboy]

Bf came over last night and eventually told me he actually lied to me for 8 months and he never really quit smoking. Just stopped doing it in front of me or before meeting up with me and I believed all this time that he actually stopped. Last spring. And he was even supported by his mom in his lie. She was in on it. And they did it because they hoped eventually he would actually be able to stop. And I said this is the last nail in the coffin of our relationship, because to elaborate a lie this strong and this lasting is just evil no matter which way you spin it. All this time I even asked him a bunch of times if he ever smoked since "quitting" and he said no?? And he said it in his lying tone but I just thought I was crazy, I thought EYE was the crazy one!! I wouldn't even have been mad, I would have understood I mean there's people who try to quit smoking their whole lives. It could take years. And he even lied to our friends, like my best friend and her bf were in awe, they were so admirative of him and his ability to drop smoking so quickly and with relatively little treatment. And he said my praises and the fact that I was proud of him made him feel good, but how good can something fake and artificial make you feel??!! Mixed with the knowledge that you're LYING!!???? He just cried and told me he was scared of disappointing me, as if lying doesn't disappoint me a billion times worse, and he knows it. And I still decided to stay and give it another go. I think mostly out of fear of breaking up, but ironically I can't stop seeing him like a stranger now. I can't trust him like before, and frankly I don't think I'll be able to anytime soon. And if only this was the first situation of this sort, but our whole almost 5 year relationships has been sprinkled with massive lies. This one takes the cake. It's not even that serious but the fact that he was able to carry on for so long, look me in the eyes and lie to me all this time, so many times he could have taken responsibility and said "actually- " but he didn't. And I trusted him because I wanted to stop being so distrustful. And I was wrong to be so. But do I want to be in a relationship where I'm constantly investigating and questioning things? I really don't. We were able to have a mature and honest conversation. I only love the person I thought he was - this one?? I don't know him.

[medicinemane]

I don't know, I get tired of a lot of positivity

Like yes yes, the world's wonderful and I'm so strong or whatever generic thing is being said (because it's always so generalized to the point of meaningless), but you know shit is what it is, and the only way forward is with changes I manage to make... which you're not helping with at all

And as for like... my internal mood, I'm deeply isolated, sorry if hollow platitudes don't sooth the gaping maw inside me

It is what it is, and I probably get my shit together enough to do stuff like teach out of my basement like I'd like, it's just I believe that I'll be alone in a crowd like I've always been

But positivity... I just... I kinda get sick of it. There's this guy on youtube I watch who talks about economics stuff, he's recently started doing positivity and... I just fucking know his personality enough where it's like sorry mate but I'm not interested in hearing you spout Secret light kinds off drivel

...I don't know, I suppose it boils down to this

One, I can barely fucking take in positive things said directly to me, about me. Generalizations don't help even a little... I'm a mess, I'd really like someone to toss me a life preserver instead of always tossing confetti at me while I struggle to stay afloat... doesn't help

Two, the world is a terribly imperfect place, and rather than taking a mentality of "everything will work out", I think it's important to acknowledge that sometimes good people live alone, die alone, and they never got the break they needed and slowly bled out

I think it's worth knowing that if you can't step in and help yourself, then maybe no help'll come at all

...I don't know, I suppose in the end the core of what I'm saying is a lot of positivity seems like self help tier stuff and... I get tired of that, and I see so many good people struggling and... eh... either I can at least come in and say something positive custom fit to them, or I can keep my mouth shut

Just fucking let me rot. Help or let me fester on my own, you know?

I got rid of the trailer, I maybe did something like cleaning though I can't tell... at what point will my pace on trying to make things better be good enough for people, and I'll be able to stop having people tell me to fix my life... as if I hadn't thought of that already

...everyone means well, it's just tiring