Lostlove - Tumblr Posts

Nearing completion #wip #skull #loss #lostlove #figurative #sculpture #sculptor #sanfrancisco #sanfranciscoartist #clayart #ceramics #ceramicsculpture (at Alamo Square)

I miss a very specific smell:

The scent of summer beside you.

We were far from the beach but it was the summer of my life.

"All I ever did was hate your laugh And burned all the things we had When he took me in phases  And it drove my heart so crazy The things we killed midday,  Or how we never stayed,  Or how most of my poems are just listing things  In a pushy, psychotic form."

-Isabella Lamberty, Make-believe Funerals

The Phantom Operator Shaina Tranquilino October 10, 2024

Macy sat alone in her dimly lit apartment, the glow from her TV flickering across the walls as an autumn storm rattled the windows. The wind howled through the trees outside, and rain pattered against the glass like skeletal fingers tapping to get in. She had always loved October’s eeriness, but tonight, an unfamiliar dread settled over her. It started with a ring—sharp and shrill, cutting through the white noise of the storm. Macy glanced at her phone, confused. The screen displayed “Unknown Caller,” a designation she hadn't seen in years. She hesitated but eventually swiped to answer.

“Hello?” she said, her voice tentative.

There was silence on the other end, only the faint hiss of static. Macy was about to hang up when she heard it: a whisper, faint and distant, but unmistakable.

"Macy…"

She froze. The voice was achingly familiar, one she had buried in the deepest recesses of her memory. Her throat tightened as chills crept up her spine.

"Maverick?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The static crackled again, louder this time. The whisper came through once more, clearer now, unmistakably his voice. "Macy... I miss you."

Her heart pounded in her chest. It had been five years since Maverick died in a car accident. The grief had been suffocating, but she had moved on—or so she thought. The sudden resurgence of his voice felt like a knife turning in a half-healed wound.

“This isn’t funny,” she said, her voice rising. “Who is this?”

But the voice on the other end didn’t respond. The static grew louder, filling her ears, drowning out the storm outside.

“I miss you,” the voice repeated, echoing like it was coming from far away, from somewhere it shouldn’t be able to reach.

With a gasp, Macy dropped the phone onto the couch, staring at it in horror. Her hands were shaking. This had to be a prank—some cruel, heartless prank. But how? Maverick was dead. She had attended his funeral, seen his body lowered into the ground.

The phone went silent. For a long minute, she just stared at it, hoping the nightmare was over. But then, it rang again.

Macy nearly jumped out of her skin. “Unknown Caller” flashed on the screen once more. She didn’t want to answer, but her hand moved involuntarily, as though compelled by some unseen force.

She pressed the green icon and brought the phone to her ear, her pulse hammering in her throat.

This time, the voice came through immediately, but it was different. It wasn’t just a whisper. It was distorted, warped, as though Maverick’s voice had been dragged through layers of static and something darker—something inhuman.

"Why did you leave me?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "You... you died, Maverick. You’re gone. This isn’t real."

"I’m still here," the voice rasped. The words were drenched in agony, in longing. "I’ve been waiting for you."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She tried to reason with herself—this was impossible, a trick of the mind. Maybe it was the storm, maybe it was grief resurfacing after all these years. But the voice… it was too real. Too familiar.

The call cut out, plunging the room into silence once more. Macy stared at the phone in her hand, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her fingers hovered over the call log. She needed to know where the calls were coming from.

With trembling hands, she tapped the number.

Nothing.

No record. The call didn’t exist.

A chill swept over her as the storm outside raged on, the wind howling like a mourning soul. She stood, pacing the living room, her mind racing. It couldn’t have been Maverick. He was gone. He had to be.

Suddenly, the phone rang again.

This time, Macy didn’t answer immediately. She let it ring, her stomach twisting into knots as the shrill sound echoed in her small apartment. Finally, with a deep breath, she answered.

“Maverick, please stop this,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “Please… just let me go.”

There was a long pause, the kind of silence that felt like the dead themselves were listening.

"Come back to me," the voice said. It was louder now, more insistent. "You promised."

Her mind raced back to the night of his accident. They had fought—bitterly. She had told him she was leaving him, that she couldn’t take the jealousy, the paranoia anymore. He had driven off in a storm not unlike tonight, his last words to her echoing in her mind: “If you leave, I’ll never let you go.”

The static rose again, and beneath it, Macy could hear something else—a distant noise, growing louder. It was the unmistakable screech of tires on wet pavement, the crunch of metal twisting and shattering.

Then, the voice. His voice. Crying out her name in terror.

The memory slammed into her like a freight train, and she dropped the phone, stumbling backward, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She covered her ears, but she couldn’t block it out—the sound of his death was all around her, suffocating her.

The lights flickered and then went out, plunging the room into darkness. Only the faint glow from her phone illuminated the room. The call was still active, the static crackling like fire.

And then she heard it. Footsteps. Soft, deliberate, moving toward her.

Macy backed into a corner, her heart pounding, tears streaming down her face. “Maverick... I’m sorry…”

The footsteps stopped just behind her. She could feel the air grow cold, could sense something—someone—standing there, unseen but present.

A whisper brushed her ear, so close it felt like icy breath on her skin.

“You can’t leave me. Not again.”

And then, the lights flickered back on. The room was empty, but Macy knew—she wasn’t alone.

The phone went dead in her hand, the call finally over. But the fear remained, gnawing at her, whispering in the back of her mind.

She knew it wasn’t the last time he would call.

Maverick was waiting.

And he always would be.

"When I, when I'm sitting in the dark.. I believe the words you say When I, when I'm singing with no charm... I believe you're not my way. Well I smell the richness of the sky But I still need your shiny eyes.. Well, I see the room begins to swim.. I know my cares will blow away... Blow away, blow away, shine away... Blow away, blow away, shine away... When I feel I'm near the end.. Yes, I'll try to save our land.. When I, I start to feel the pain I believe that you could remain... I've been losing you I've been losing you Oh...what a beautiful way I've been losing control.. I've been losing my soul.. Oh...what a beautiful way.. Blow away, blow away, shine away... Blow away, blow away, shine away.." #picoftheday #smolderpoetry #nightlife #thinkingaboutyou #hauntedbymemories #thoughtful #dreamer #nightthinker #lostinlove #lostinside #faded #artistsoninstagram #writersofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #love #darkshadows #moonlight #adamvampire #hiddlestoner #lostloki #lostlove #trueloveneverdie #lovedontdie #memoriesofher #painting #starsandshadows #lokisilvertongue

“So they gave me love in form of poison and tiny little pills, programming my emotions, teaching me how to feel. To act correct and talk correct and answer without knowing the question, because that, my dear, is how you get love. Yes that, dear youth, is how you'll be loved. I tried to medicate my own fucked up little mind with chemicals and adrenaline, tasting sweeter every night, shaking louder every time. Sitting wide awake in bed until the world disappears, writing poetry to concentrate on something real while waiting for the love to arrive. I've been looking for it night after night, waiting patiently for it to show up, maybe somewhere in between the state of awake and asleep, alive and not so alive, sober and not so sober. (I lost track of the difference somewhere in between.)” #picoftheday #quoteoftheday #nightthinker #philosopherbynight #thinkingofher #artwork #writersofinstagram #smolderpoetry #hauntedbymemories #dreamersandlovers #deviantartist #digitalart #deviantart #lostsoul #lostloki #artistsoninstagram #lostlove #truelove #loversinthenight #guidinglight #drunkinlove #moonlightshadows #lokisilvertongue #hiddlestoner #beyondthewonderlust #beyondtheinvisible #wonderlust #somethinginbetween #soulmate #dreamerphilosopher

''When I, when I'm sitting in the dark.. I believe the words you say... You are my pain.. A fever, a desperate religion...''

A man and his thoughts are not that much different than your own, no matter what you may believe. I lay in my bed at night, staring into the ceiling as I ponder on the things that go on inside my head...I wonder to myself about what is to become of me...In a world full of variables, she was my constant. She was my gravity, the very thing that kept me grounded. I loved her like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of. That man... #personalquote #smoldertongue #hiddlestoner #writersofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #silentwarrior #silentpoet #gentstyle #gentlemenstyle #lokisilvertongue #gentstagram #poetrycommunity #quotesaboutlove #loveneverdies #thebestofme #missingher #lokisarmy #tomhiddleston #lostlove #mood #confessions https://www.instagram.com/p/BfZedcWAZ24/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=11724e6t67gqq

“Love is a force more formidable than any other. It is invisible - it cannot be seen or measured, yet it is powerful enough to transform you in a moment, and offer you more joy than any material possession could.” - Barbara de Angelis #quoteaboutlove #writersofinstagram #artistsoninstagram #smoldertongue #smolderpoetry #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #philosopherspath #nightconversations #lovequotes #dreamersandmusicmakers #lovebeyondtime #thinkingofyoualways #lostlove #vampirelove https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo-IbgSA9tU/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=2z7m8c38vwbz

“In this world I can't find peace, I’m always looking for ways to forget myself. Probably, this is one of the reasons why I'm addicted to drugs. A new dose of absinthe helps me again to find myself in another World. So, here I am...just a vampire...among people on this Earth, the shadow of a warrior..lost between two worlds and so I was until I met her... A capricious Midgardian with a crippled soul, who capture my heart. I fell in love with her, but I couldn't believe in her love. She turned my world around and broke it into pieces, just giving her life in exchange for mine. From that moment on, the world became foreign to me, I no longer felt loved - I don't need a world without her, but even here I felt myself different, until one day on one of the unexpected occasions I met him. My Loki.” #personalquote #poetry #poetrylover #smolderstyle #smoldertongue #artistsoninstagram #hiddlestoner #tomhiddlestonedit #writersofinstagram #wordporn #artwork #lovequotes #hiddlesarmy #philosopherspath #godofmischief #lokiedit #lokistyle #thespian #shakespearean #tomhiddleston #moonlightconfessions #digitalartist #deviantartist #confessionsofapoeticsoul #paradiselost #lostlove #lokisarmy #lostlovequotes https://www.instagram.com/p/BtZJGxLgyFQ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=ixv01mbvndl4

#repostingagoodone @withrepost “So they gave me love in form of poison and tiny little pills, programming my emotions, teaching me how to feel. To act correct and talk correct and answer without knowing the question, because that, my dear, is how you get love. Yes that, dear youth, is how you'll be loved. I tried to medicate my own fucked up little mind with chemicals and adrenaline, tasting sweeter every night, shaking louder every time. Sitting wide awake in bed until the world disappears, writing poetry to concentrate on something real while waiting for the love to arrive. I've been looking for it night after night, waiting patiently for it to show up, maybe somewhere in between the state of awake and asleep, alive and not so alive, sober and not so sober. (I lost track of the difference somewhere in between.)” #picoftheday #personalquote #nightthinker #philosopherbynight #personalart #thinkingofher #artwork #writersofinstagram #smolderpoetry #hauntedbymemories #smolderstyle #dreamersandlovers #deviantartist #digitalart #deviantart #lostsoul #digitalartist #lostloki #betrayal #artistsoninstagram #lostlove #truelove #loversinthenight #tomhiddlestonedit #guidinglight #drunkinlove #moonlightshadows #lokisilvertongue #hiddlestoner #beyondthewonderlust #betrayaltomhiddleston #repostingitagain #beyondtheinvisible #vampireadam #somethinginbetween #soulmate #dreamerphilosopher #tomhiddleston #andrewsmolderartworks https://www.instagram.com/p/BxsfMqEIj2w/?igshid=5r1rswebyna0