Shoko Ieiri

Rosanna Warren, from Departure: Poems; "From the Notebooks of Anne Verveine"

ryo-chan.

[among us] blue crewmate and his red imposter friend that stalks him to protect him from other imposters, part 4

How to raise a mini crewmate

[part 1-2] [part 3]

sleep token • november 2019 in los angeles

#miaomiao gives off so much malewife energy

Yu Hewei as Shi Qiang and Zhang Luyi as Wang Miao in THREE-BODY | 三体 (2023) Ep 1.17 (Kun's 63/∞ Three-Body gifsets)

I am feeling a sudden fondness for Temeraire, you should 100% not expect a response but feel free to provide prompts bc I feel like writing something small

if you donate to ACLU, tweet your receipt to Sia and she will match it up to 100k.

if you donate to CAIR, tweet your receipt to grimes and she will match it up to 10k

please add on other people/celebrities/whoever that are doing this so everyone can make the most of their donations!

this marathon game called jujutsu sorcerer / if i could be you.

i am feeling emotional about the people in my phone because we are literally witnessing each others lives and growth in such an intimately distant way. i know your favourite book passages but i don't know your last name and if i make it to 60 i will probably still think of you often even then

the wrong end of a very long tunnel

king falls am word count: 2106 poetry borrowed from straw house, straw dog by richard siken

read on ao3

x

and you wanted an adventure, so i said have an adventure

The car smells like Jack. He always forgot body spray on his mad rush out the door in the morning so he took to keeping a can in the glovebox. Sammy sits in the driver’s seat with a death grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles standing out like strings of pearls. In the passenger seat is the packed bag he found by the front door months ago.

It was months ago. It took that long to negotiate a way out of their contract at the station. And maybe Sammy was hoping for a miracle, hoping for a late-night phone call or the sound of a key in the lock. If he waited a little longer, dragged his feet, Jack would make his own way home.

But Sammy is sitting in a car that smells like Jack, with a bag in the passenger seat where his boyfriend should be, and his phone in the cup holder with the GPS waiting on his first move.

It’s a hard move to make. Sammy is a coward. He wants to go back inside. Back into their house, even though the mail is on hold and the gas and water has been shut off. Back into the life he and Jack built with each other, for each other.

But this is the only way back. Leaving now is the only way to go back home.

Jack, Sammy thinks.

He presses the clutch and shifts into first gear. He doesn’t slow down until the fuel gauge is on empty, seven hundred miles away. Then he pulls into the first gas station off the interstate and has a quiet panic attack.

It’s only for his benefit that it’s quiet, really. To keep some semblance of control. He could have made a scene if he wanted to. It’s one o’clock in the morning in the Middle of Nowhere, Northern Oregon, and Sammy is alone. He could fall to the ground and scream and be long gone before some unfortunate morning employee came in and checked the CCTV.

Jack, he thinks. He doesn’t scream. He gets out to pump gas.

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