fuck the small talk.

oh, great, valium. not only will we be able to get to sleep, but if we're attacked in the middle of the night, we won't even care. a cillian murphy multimuse. by maddie.

[shesnake]

some devil gets into you, doesn’t it, boy?

[skannain-blog]

the stranger is talking to fill the silence. tommy is smoking to fill the space.

         ‘ do i look like a man... ’ he splits the sentence so that his voice isn’t pinched by way of the smoke in his lungs. he exhales. ‘ who enjoys small talk? ’

@kinemasent,  sc.

[skannain-blog]

northgrit.

        ‘ about you? ’ he repeats, not looking up from his phone. balfour knows tom’s dangerously close to getting too close, but he seems to be having an easy enough time of self-regulating. ‘ nothing. –makes you think you’re all i wanna talk about, anyway? ’ 

         ‘ nothing. no. that’s not what i --- ’ he laughs: it’s forced and ugly, and he wishes as soon as it’s out that he could rewind and stop himself trying. ‘ that’s not what i thought. ’ he’s literally begun to sweat.

[skannain-blog]

         ‘ why are you  ---  who are you texting? ’ he starts to breach balfour’s personal space bubble, then thinks better, jerks himself quickly back out of it, and scrubs at the underside of his nose with his shirt cuff. ‘ what are, uh. what are you saying about me? ’

@northgrit,  sc.

[skannain-blog]

hmu for a starter

[controlyourface-deactivated2018]

He’s ridiculously handome. Too bad he’s a wanker.     — Cillian Murphy in The Party