i will always see through this lens.

i smoke and i drink and every time i blink i have a tiny dream. and as bad as i am, i'm proud of the fact that i'm worse than i seem.

[utilgitt]

i know, i get it—i'm either at the bottom of a well or spinning into somebody's outdoor glass furniture. is this how i lose it? everything at once? carried to space by a dolphin balloon? well, whatever magical thinking you need to hang around your neck, right?

PENNY IS ON @bluedprints NOW!!!

[utilgitt]

i am going to move penny over to my multi @bluedprints !! any drafts that i have will be moved and replied to over there in the next coming days. if you don't want to continue any thread feel free to drop it.

most of you follow me there already but if you don't.... :-) <3

love uuuuuu

[notmorbid]

the keeper of lost things.

dialogue prompts from the keeper of lost things: a novel by ruth hogan.

intimacy has always been a disappointment to me.

cleaning can be an act of love.

you must have loved [name] very much.

i'd say i'm pleased to meet you, but it would probably be a lie.

the wonderful thing about books is that they're films that play inside your head.

what's your book about?

are you sure you weren't adopted?

the air is thick with stories.

dress for yourself and marry for love.

a hush is a dangerous thing. it invites mischief.

i've never seen you cry before.

that's the last time i let you choose the film.

i just hope you'll be able to keep up with me.

i should've been a catholic. i do guilt so well.

the house is just somewhere i go when i can't be home.

i wonder what counts as a prayer.

the one thing we can always do is try.

is it safe to come in?

i wouldn't leave you this way. you're coming get me.

no one else knows. just you and god.

i'd love to hear the story.

old age is an unforgiving wingman.

you and i will take care of each other.

i don't think it, in my head. i just feel it.

what will you do without me?

there is a world outside. it's worth a visit, now and then.

do i look like i work here?

if you never get sad, how do you know what happy is like?

besides, everybody dies.

you always were completely spineless.

god, you look rough.

i don't think you're pathetic, just plain mean.

sometimes somebody has to say something, even if they're the wrong person to do it.

you deserve to be happy, but you have to make it happen yourself.

when did you turn into such a wimp?

no one's going to hurt you here.

i recognized your accent from the tv.

i'm trying to work out a dignified escape route.

you're the only one left, from the old days.

who on earth called you that?

things always look better in the morning.

what makes you so sure you'll die before me?

i'm not very good at clues. you'll have to make it clear and simple.

i'm sorry if you've tried to talk and i haven't listened.

[bluedprintsarchive]

i’m going to see my parents and the in-laws all of next week so activity will be sparse, but i’m available for chatting/plotting/oc making over on discord!!

[bornfornothin-deactivated202503]

utilgitt​.

this will be the first night of many that penny doesn’t go straight home after working the reception at the autumn coast. she can’t bear it. under her first layer of skin is a second, thicker layer of skin and this is the one that feels like it is vibrating and buzzing. so she walks. first to the convenience store and then the pharmacy. and then just walks and walks until she’s at a strange place, and then she freaks out a little.

she seems calm enough but it’s an act. she’s still got her work makeup on, her button-up.

“—i just need to call my husband,” she says, emphasizing husband, in case this guy’s weird, but it doesn’t matter, because she’s the one who knocked on his door. “it—won’t take long, if you’ll let me in.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, you can come in. I just didn’t wantcha ta think I was some kinda creep.” He steps aside, giving her about as much room to enter as he can with the tiny entryway that opens into a small, cramped kitchen.

“There’s the phone, like I said. Uh, it ain’t long distance, is it? Sorry, ya don’t seem like you’re from around here.” It’s an awkward situation, and Job is suddenly very aware of the Donna Summer record he has playing in the other room, which feels oddly inappropriate all of a sudden.

[utilgitt]

"no, it's—i am." kind of. she slinks inside and over to the phone. if she rings danny will answer and he will drive out in minutes, pick her up. he will ask questions and she won't have any answers.

she turns her back to the phone just a minute, looks around the place. "it's nice in here. been here long?"

[inrovina]

sometimes, he wonders if happiness — true happiness, the kind that comes with safety and stability — is even a thing that's really possible. he hopes it can be, for penny. she doesn't deserve to hold this sadness always.

"i know what that's like." he draws invisible circles on the ground with his boot, the wall digging into his back. "lying to yourself. it's hard to stop."

a breath in. there's a small frown on his face, born from worry. "it's definitely better now? you promise? you're not having a bad time anymore?"

[utilgitt]

she nods her head, slow and deliberate, an answer to both herself and to xeno. truth is that near every time she talks to her ex-husband it's a gloomy affair, but there hasn't been screaming, there hasn't been door slamming in years.

"i see you wandering around," she says, turning the conversation back on him, "you seem way too young to be looking so worried all the time, you know."

[exspiritment]

If Spirit tried, she could have found Penny. If Spirit tried, she could do a lot of things. But her number one priority is the drugs, how they make her feel — not what the voices, the ones that are always there, want for her.

"I'm very predictable." She is. Fuck, she is. Unfortunately, her personal growth has been non-existent. At best. She will always be who she was when they were in Florida, she thinks.

"How hard were you looking?"

[utilgitt]

not hard at all, is the honest answer, and penny considers giving it. she knows spirit would take it; she doesn't know what stops her. redundancy, maybe, or just nerves.

penny just shrugs her shoulders. "i had a feeling you would turn up at some point."

and then the loaded question: "did you miss me?"

[exspiritment]

“We can fix it?” she echoes, feels distant and dreamy. It’s still, somehow, a fantasy. She doesn’t understand what she’s living right now, doesn’t know how to be in the present.

“Obviously cheap. Will we find — fuck, what is it —” She laughs, twisted and brittle and wry. “—roommates?”

"roommates." it doesn't feel like the right word but it feels close enough. a stage of almost-acquaintance. enough to get by. "others like us."

like us hangs heavy in the stuffy air. penny doesn't compare herself to spirit, really, at all. their heartbreak is being carried by differently toned strings. and still they left together, and came here together.

"we will make it work, all of us."

[utilgitt]

"roommates." it doesn't feel like the right word but it feels close enough. a stage of almost-acquaintance. enough to get by. "others like us."

like us hangs heavy in the stuffy air. penny doesn't compare herself to spirit, really, at all. their heartbreak is being carried by differently toned strings. and still they left together, and came here together.

"we will make it work, all of us."

[inrovina]

he scoots over on the bench to allow her more space, staring at the piano keys. his hands retreat to rest in his lap. there's the slow shake of his head, but his usual protest stays trapped in his throat.

silence lingers for too long before he finally asks, quietly, daring a glance at penny, "what if i don't know how to keep going anymore?"

[utilgitt]

she doesn't sit close enough to touch and she doesn't try to reach out in any other meaningful way. she just sits. she stares at the piano keys, same as him. if the lights were on them they would look like they were waiting for a song to start.

"i'll let you know when i figure that out, honey." and then a shallow, little breath, and then, "but i'm still here now, and so are you."

[holyrots]

marco hesitates before supplying an answer, considering how much of the truth to divulge to her, a stranger with no skin in the game. "no," he admits. "she's not here."

he glances around them, as if even the shadows might be leaning in a little closer to listen. "i think someone else might be here. a kid i'm looking for. he's connected to it."

[utilgitt]

she won't do much with his truth. she wouldn't have done much with his lies, either. she'd have gone home, taken the dress off, gone to bed. and wonder, just in secret, about disappearing wives.

"a kid?" she doesn't flinch, she doesn't really react at all. "a lot of people pass through here."

[natophonetic-deactivated2023091]

He's angry. He's quiet. He rubs his lips, his cold hands like a compress. He puts his hand back near her head, a little too sudden, a little to close. "You flirted with me."

[utilgitt]

"sweetie," her tone is as pointed, as sharp, with just a slow blink of the eyes. there's always someone who gets like this. there will always be another. "it's in the job description."

[saintburnt]

@utilgitt liked for a starter.

it's still early, relatively. patrons slowly trickle in and cormac has his chin rested firmly in his palm, elbow propped on the table, looking at nowhere. it's a table close to the performer, one he had planned to move from long ago, but now is far too crossed to even think about that anymore. he has that icky feeling in his hands — like he shouldn't be there. make sure not to slur your words. ' how many people catch the sound check, you figure? '

[utilgitt]

penny is coiling and uncoiling wires to get ready for the night. hooking up the microphone. piano keys are being tested—sounds good. it is a wednesday, so the stage needs a bit of cleaning. but it's an easy enough process and soon enough she rests on the edge of stage like she's a piece of decor.

"just you, just now." she watches him, where he's been sitting for a while. "passin' through?"

[rekant-2]

"i write another one," they say, quite lightly.

as if what they want has anything to do with it. they're not sure what they'd do if they weren't writing — pull their hair out?

they light a cigarette, then offer the packet to penny, like she might want to do the same.

"i'll go back to the city, probably. maybe i'll go east, and visit my parents. you ever leave this place?"

[utilgitt]

penny taps the pack of smokes against her hand, a mindless, repetetive motion. she looks at the sun, squinting.

"not often." not ever, really.

she pulls out a cigarette, finally, puts it to her lips. holds her hand out towards eden's lighter.

"you got anyone waiting for you?"

[jupiter3-moved-2-deactivated202]

“there’s also a kind of magic to takin’ something and makin’ it your own.”

“everybody interprets stuff differently. you get a glimpse of how a person thinks from how they sing a song.”

[utilgitt]

"now, i don't know if there's much of that."

"i just sing, the same drunks show up to watch, then we all go home." not to understate her stage personality—it is a separate entity—but how could it be real, then?

[philomelia]

“     you know what i can’t stand?    the phrase:   you’ve got a voice like an angel.    who said angels were any good at singing?     ”      cassie’s scoff is loud enough to be heard over the hotel din.   she turns to @utilgitt​,   a fuzzy little dot of a girl.    “   do you think you could teach me how to sing?    ”

[utilgitt]

she thinks she agrees, truthfully, but there's some old nostalgia tugging at her to keep the image—she's been to enough sunday masses as a child, seen the images on stained glass window and heard the echo of choirs enough to calcify the illusion. but yes—it is a fairy tale.

"you've ever been singing before?"

[notmorbid]

everything everywhere all at once.

dialogue prompts from everything everywhere all at once (2022).

that's not a very good joke.

you need to eat better.

you'll know when it's time to fight.

i'm not ready to fight.

whatever you're about to do, don't do it.

were you not paying attention before?

nobody trusts their neighbor anymore.

i'm not trying to hurt you.

unless it's an emergency, whenever i try to talk to you, you always get pulled away.

we can make our own way. okay?

what can be worse than death?

explain it all to me. now.

the universe is so much bigger than you realize.

don't make me fight you. i'm really good.

why are you treating me like this?

one minute you're so warm, then one minute you're cold and awful.

let me help you open up your mind.

i got bored one day and i put everything on a bagel. everything.

you're living your worst you.

you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything.

'right' is a tiny box made by people who feel afraid.

you're young, and your mind is always changing.

i was just looking for someone who could see what i see. feel what i feel.

you don't matter. nothing matters.

whatever i did, i'm sorry.

please don't give me any false hope.

i've always hated this place.

you can just sit here and everything feels really far away.

i'm joking. that was a joke.

you think i'm weak, don't you?

when i choose to see the bright side of things, i'm not being naïve. it's strategic and necessary.

all i know is that we have to be kind.

in another life, i would have really enjoyed just doing laundry and taxes with you.

i don't want to hurt you.

don't stop playing. play something for me.

you are not unlovable.

there is always something to love.

we are all useless alone.

it's a good thing you're not alone.

he who loves the most regrets the most.

let's not live in a fantasy.

it's okay if you can't be proud of me.

i don't want to hurt anymore.

for some reason, when i'm with you, it just hurts the both of us.

let's go our separate ways, okay? just let me go.

i will always, always want to be here with you.

so what? are we just gonna ignore everything else?

this is awkward, right?

please give us a chance.

[sagamemes]

send me 💬, and i’ll use a line from a sentence meme i’ve reblogged to make a starter for you.