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#Finding Life
random-xpressions · 4 months
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Some day for sure you'll anyhow be buried in your grave. But before that why don't you find some life by burying yourself between her legs!
Random Xpressions
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bluetraverser · 1 year
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Finding Life - chapter 51 - Honeymoon
 Elliott hummed, then focused, opening his heart…
“...My love…I...” He took a centering breath, then looked at him, tried to see him and tried to open himself to him completely. “As you know. I was a very lonely person. And for reasons that had nothing to do with me being a dramatic fool, I genuinely thought that. The things that happened to me, had broken me. Although I had tried to keep myself from thinking it and tried to remember that it was a cliché sentiment… there was a time when I really and truly felt like it. When I first realized, I was quite desolate. And I didn’t do much about it. I was...fairly numb. As more years went by, it became part of my identity. I accepted that I was fundamentally broken on a deep level. That I would likely be incapable to ever be whole. To truly heal. I wasn’t just convinced I was broken. I knew it. I looked for ways to harness the pain after a while, leaned into it, tried to use it to build myself up with it somehow. Use my pain as a shield against others. Embraced my weirder tendencies and tried to accept that… no one would ever love me. I don’t think I ever truly thought that I was...” his voice wavered saying it, even now “… unworthy to be loved. I never truly believed what my parents and people around me later had told me. All the terrible things they said. But. I. Felt that it was foolish to truly expect it to ever happen. That it would be dangerous to trust and honestly stupid to allow someone such terrible power over me ever again. And when we met, I…
 ...I was scared. And I wasn’t. I was much less scared than I thought I should be. When I realized I was falling for you, I was mad at myself for doing so. But I was also, so… so grateful. So happy. To be able to feel it. Each day that I saw you was a pain of, what I felt then, treacherous hope. In many ways agonizing because it made me feel even more how lonely I was. How much I wanted to be loved. And when I finally confessed to you… I was scared how to really do      anything    . How to show you affection, how you would react to me. If I would become a slave to you and beg for the tiniest bits of affection and lose myself completely in a pathetic haze. I was scared if you would abuse me of my foolishness or be unkind or… any of those terrible things that you never deserved to have thought about you. And I was also scared… if I had warred myself off too much from my own heart to allow access to it. That you would try and try and  I would  just be incapable to trust you.”  He looked at his love evenly. Who was looking at him and listening to him so patient, despite how long he waxed on. Who understood. Truly and really...understood...
Full EXPLICIT chapter at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793223/chapters/111582544
[[If you want a non-explciit version we can probably come to an arrangement]]
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"When you're born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it's not." -Richard Kadrey
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bjurnberg · 5 months
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My work boots are the most expensive shoes I’ve ever owned.
Also the most comfortable. I chose them after trying on several different brands and comparing lifespan vs usage vs comfort - I needed them for a physically demanding job, not the weekend hiking trails. I could have easily chosen cheaper boots that would have lasted long enough to be worth their low price, but I know the Sam Vimes Boot Theory and knew weaker, less comfortable boots would make my life harder in the long run.
So when the outside edge of the heel started wearing down after three years of heavy use I went to the shop I got them from and said “hey this is a common problem for me with how I walk but now it’s affecting my ankles and knees and I don’t wanna have to buy a new pair, is there a way to fix this?”
The salesman at this very fancy upscale boot store said “oh yeah, there’s a shoe repair place that can give you some heel guards - it’ll keep the rubber from wearing out.”
So at 8am this morning right after my 9hr shift ends I went to the shoe repair shop and it is the most hole-in-the-wall, is-this-a-real-business-or-a-mafia-front, am-I-gonna-get-shot tiny cinder block cube I’ve ever seen in my life. I grew up plenty poor and love me a good hole-in-the-wall business, but going from upscale store to this cash-only repair shop gave me whiplash. Wasn’t expecting this when a guy who wears three piece suits to sell boots said it’s the best place to go.
The skinny kid behind the counter looks somehow 16 and 25 at the same time, but when I tell him this place was recommended he smiles and says to hand over my boots. I hand him the vaguely warm foot-smelling boots, and stand in my socks in the 3’ square entryway surrounded by every color leather polish you could buy and watch as he turns my boots around in his hands, sizes up a crescent moon bits of plastic, and unceremoniously hammers tiny nails through them before handing them back.
The heels are perfectly level again. I can walk without almost rolling my ankles. They don’t clack loudly on the pavement or feel different. This is gonna fix my knee pain. It cost $10.
This kid had every tool he needed within arms reach, worked fast and smoothly, I was in and out the door in less than 8 minutes, and it only cost $10.
I didn’t think anything could cost only $10 anymore. I’m so used to hyperinflation prices I was spiritually thrown back to the 1400’s visiting the cobbler in town square. This kid might have been that cobbler and just decided to never die.
I’m still reeling from the whiplash, and gobsmacked at the price, and thrilled I didn’t have to go buy new, worse work boots (cuz I don’t have that kind of money for a second pair, I’m expecting these ones to last a decade) and it feels like I just experienced one of the rare little chunks of magic that floats around our world.
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catmask · 6 months
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when u go to write a mentally ill person in ur story you are presented two options. the first option is to write your mental illness realistically as you actually experience it with all the ups and downs and people who are like you will resonate with it and feel seen. except every person who reads instagram infographics on mental health that uses the phrase narcicisst for anyone who does anything that crosses them and unironically call themself a dark empath will call you scary and tell you that youre demonizing mentally ill people
the second option is to lie and write inspiration porn for those people to get hard to
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juiche · 4 months
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a moment of peace before the whole world shatters 😇
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thestuffedalligator · 7 months
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My brother-in-law has a Thing where he gives me increasingly rare copies of The Bee Movie and it’s long since gone from “Goofy running gag” to “I don’t know how much money he’s willing to commit to this bit and it Scares Me.”
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Where the fuck can we go from here
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butchdykekondraki · 4 months
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8k+ note butch lucifer
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necroclrcus · 14 days
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came home drunk last night and got way too excited to see my computer
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tom4jc · 2 months
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Amos 5:6 Seek The Lord To Live
Seek the Lord and live, lest He break out like fire in the house of Joseph, and devour it, with no one to quench it in Bethel–Amos 5:6 From the time a person becomes a teenager, people want to live life. They see movies and ads and think that is the way a person should be able to live to really have a great life. Living life is commonly focused around what a person has, position in society, and…
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hg-aneh · 8 months
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shined too bright
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vettely · 7 months
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as someone who is starting a new uni at 23 but is blending in perfectly with the 18-year-olds i'm curious and i need to ask
feel free to reblog and tell me in the tags what age do you get mistaken for, and do you find that to be a bad or a good thing :))
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bluetraverser · 1 year
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Finding Life - Chapter 53
“Well, hello stranger!”
Elliott smiled back. He did look to be in a very good mood. “Hello Leah. What a coincidence to meet you here.”
She grinned, wiping the brush off with a wet handkerchief. “Indeed. I could hardly have predicted that you would come here sometime today to pick up your remaining things.” She had been painting in front of his now former domicile at the beach, expecting him to come by sometime around noon. “How was the honeymoon?”
“Oh, it was wonderful, truly. Thank you again for all your help with the wedding… and I’m assuming, also with the office?”
She grinned. “Robert figured that you would feel the least uncomfortable with me handling your things, so yes, I helped out moving your books and selecting a few new ones for you.”
He stepped closer and, surprisingly enough, hugged her, briefly. “Thank you.” He let go and turned to the cabin. “I think the only thing left should be a few clothes and personal items, maybe…”
“Maybe… I tried not to snoop. How was it anyway? I’ve never been to Cóinneach.”
“Quite beautiful. We were hiking a lot. Roberts ancestors are from that region, you know? There is family history tracing back 300 years on that place. I suppose, in part its my family history now too.” His smile was sunny.
“You look really happy.”
He grinned, making an even happier sound. “I’ve never been this incredible happy or thought that I could even feel just a fraction of what I am feeling now. I have a wonderful husband and a beautiful home and wonderful friends. How could I possibly be even happier?”
“I don’t know. But I guess that means you got plenty of fucking done on your vacation too, yes?”
He spluttered beautifully, aghast at her question. “I. Uh. Uhm.”
She giggled. “Oh Elliott, it was your honeymoon. You had to know I would ask that.”
He put a hand to his forehead. “Ugh. Yes.” He sighed dramatically, playing up the suffering. “Perhaps I was mistaken about my friends being wonderful!”
Full chapter at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793223/chapters/113845657
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hansoeii · 6 months
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It's about who.
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plague-parade · 1 year
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i feel like we dont talk enough about how distressing and disturbing memory loss issues are. forgetting what you were talking about halfway through a sentence, putting something down and instantly forgetting where you put it. having to reread one paragraph over and over again because by the time youve moved onto the next sentence you dont remember what the one before it said. always doubting if your memories of things are real, not being able to remember important life events.
its so incredibly scary, it feels like your mind is constantly playing tricks on you and you start to doubt whats real and what isnt.
“i forgot” is treated like a lazy excuse when it’s genuinely such a big issue for so many people.
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catmask · 6 months
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with that said there are characters that a fat maybe not canonically but they are spiritually. to me. they may not be drawn that way but i know whats true. ive seen it like a sort of prophet
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