Andrea Gibson

Claudia Rankine, from “Some years there exists a wanting to escape...”, Citizen

Yanyi, from Dream of the Divided Field: Poems; “The Friend”

[Text ID: “stop fighting, but I am not / fighting. I am noticing / where I don’t exist. / I should leave.”]

― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

You smell like him. And the voice, too. Same fucking voice.

Tom at the Farm (2013), dir. Xavier Dolan

How to Maintain Eye Contact, Robert Wood Lynn

Will and the donkey | Triple Frontier

Anton Chekhov, "after the theatre"

Anne Carson, from The Glass Essay

Sharon Olds, from "Something Is Happening", One Secret Thing: Poems

no more "in my humble opinion", from now on it's "from my grandiose and objectively correct deductions".

I WAS AN ATHEIST UNTIL I REALIZED: I AM A GOD.

independent mutuals only canon && original multi muse blog ft. tyler rake, raleigh becket, four, and charlie hesketh.

ABOUT, THEA. she can feel your pain. she knows exactly where and what the injury is, even if it isn't visible. she can feel the electromagnetic disruptions, and she knows your lying. stop lying to her she just wants to make you feel better okay.

ABOUT, CHARLIE. fun fact charlie's never really had legitimate relationships, and the dynamic with his family was mostly groomed to represent the name and groomed to succeed in wealth and status, and so he's never really truly known what or how it is to be loved.

ooc. but for REAL somebody give me thea literally combing the city to find daredevil because she can feel this person in INORDINATE AMOUNTS OF PAIN almost on the goddamn daily and she's trying to find him to stop his suffering but her also her own at this point because what the fuck??

ooc. i am sick and TIRED of these goddamn bots i will commit arson

i didn't even realize i was bleeding. @ thea

a soft smile graces her lips, quiet huff of admonishment that holds no real weight. thea takes gemma's arm, gives her a scolding look filled with love, and breathes in. as her lungs fill, she feels the wound as if it were her own, and when she exhales, she too feels the skin begin to stitch itself back together. it's itchy, and it stings something harsh, as she forces cells to regenerate faster than they'd like, but it's over quick enough. mostly superficial, she doesn't have to navigate organs or muscle or anything too complicated. ‟ so you're gonna tell me you didn't feel that rock when it hit you, too? ”

a prompt i'm too lazy to find / @analyticallyminded