Watercolour Paintings By Mark Adams, C. 20th Century

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Hamish Linklater as Father Paul in Midnight Mass (2021)

here’s a random word generator–whatever word it gives you is now the thing you are the deity of

Midnight Mass Fanfiction

John X Millie | PwP | Oral | Body worship |Enthusiastic consent

John and Millie steal a few moments together and convince eachother it isn't a sin. Adults only.

No Human eye can isolate the unhappy coincidence of line and place which suggests evil in the face of a house, and yet somehow a maniac juxtaposition, a badly turned angle, some chance meeting of roof and sky, turned Hill House into a place of despair, more frightening because the face of Hill House seemed awake, with a watchfulness from the blank windows and a touch of glee in the eyebrow of a cornice.

Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

nooo not the weight of it all lol

The Lie

You love her. You know you love her. Like you've never loved anyone else- anything else. She's so fucking lovable. Your heart swells at the sight of her, beats faster. Butterflies in your stomach. Euphoria tugs at the corners of your mouth. The room just lit up when she walked through that door. She's so fucking lovable.

But

"I love you too." There it is. The lie you knew would come. Of course it's a lie. How could she love you? How could something as dirty, as tainted, as sinful, as a lie come out of her mouth?

But

Of course it's a lie. She is so fucking lovable. She is easy to love. She doesn't take time to love. She doesn't take effort. Thought. Strength.

To love her is to breathe. The air filling your lungs, the adoration filling your heart- they're one in the same. To love her is to breathe. To live.

But

You. You are not so lovable. You are smoke in the air. To love you is to choke. To claw at your throat and gasp for air. For her.

You've suffocated others enough to know this. Of course it's a lie. How could she love you? How could anyone?

Not even you can.

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

— Unknown

“I wish they would take me as I am.”

— Vincent van Gogh

-Benedict Smith, I wish I wrote the way I thought