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#jotting
coffeejottings · 1 year
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unfortunately, we all have to grow up!
Have a good day!
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epicsauce · 7 months
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text conversation from my dream that i desperately wish was real
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stedesparasol · 5 months
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do you ever read a take so bad you can't even be mad about it you're just like... ohhhhhh they must be stupid </3 so sad for them
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marxistgnome · 1 year
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Memes shared by kids who grew up on starships I think they should have sea scout/land scout beef with kids that grew up on Starbases
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araneapeixes · 5 months
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idk how long it will take me to color this and i really like the lines so enjoy<33
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stuffidug · 1 year
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鍬形蟲之墓
年初三,午後陽光很強,看起來是暖的,實際上很冷,冷是因為強風的關係吧?也可能是寒流,預報說晚點有寒流。 - 風很大,把花圃邊上的瓢蟲造型風車給吹散了。一共八片扇頁,已經找回七片,你說你要去找。你也最想找到,我知道。 - 不久,聽說你都找到了。真是太厲害了,因為很多人幫忙找卻都找不到,你究竟是怎麼辦到的呢? - 你說:「我就去跟鍬形蟲的墳墓說,求求你告訴我最後一片扇頁在哪裡,然後地上就有一個石頭指一個方向,我就跟著方向走,就看到了。」
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navesque · 1 year
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Unreflectively accepting the binary dichotomies created by the word 'racism' blurs one's view of the reality of many social and political issues. Racism constructed the category of race, which is something totally different from the factical social existence of a people. Buttressed by a cheap version of biologism, race-centered ways of thinking present itself as the only true representative of a historical people, regardless of culture, religion, and the general existential experience. I personally see that Dugin's ethnos captures the pre modern factical definition of social existence more than the prevalent materialist racial theories. The category of race isn't enough to capture the complexity of the social and historical reality, and it oft tends to ensnare its endorsers in many insufficient dichotomies making them believe that there is no other way to oppose globalism other than believing in the unlimited objectivity of this concept. Due to the poverty of concepts, most rightoids tend to see that unless you are an avowed racist you are a jewish supporter of the most disastrous conclusions derived from the rootless jewish critical theory. No racial theory could give us a convincing explanation for the grand changes that happened in the last century regarding the general decay there is in terms of racial categories without referring to something beyond them. I like to use the word Identitarian more than the word racist, and I see that it's totally shameful and humiliating to acquiesce to any of the dichotomies created by this unrefined conceptualization. Clinging to this concept is one of the most childish intellectual movements I've ever seen.
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theykilledcassandra · 19 days
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shoutout to lesbian drag queens who are also pigs. gotta be one of my favorite genders 🙏
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queermasculine · 2 months
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the wallet chain and the carabiner, while not penis-like in appearance, are definitely at least symbolically phallic. which is why it's actually normal to want to put them in your mouth, if you really think about it
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aprilnparrris · 1 year
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Pressure & Perspective
Aching in my heart today emotionally. Wanting relief but it only coming when I accept the feeling and why I have it and proceed to acknowledge You in it as more supreme than all of those things. I've never really done that before like this…not like this. I usually would dwell in the pain once I saw I couldn't get out of it and if I could I'd run until I got tired and then just give into it but this time…it's like I toil a little and then I accept it even when I don't understand why people evade me and run away. And Then reaching out to You and mostly acknowledging You and just choosing to mostly be quiet.
Wanting community…loving darkness and what 'feels' good even when it's not good. Wanting to forsake darkness but having doubt of whether full time light will be satisfying when it isn't about the flesh…when all I have known to make me feel good and comfortable has mostly been fleshly things. Not knowing how to operate to get there…realizing it's not my job to chart out a path to even getting there…it's Yours. My job is just to have faith and walk in line with Your Spirit and through that, I will get there. That just freed me up a whole bunch right there. And I smile again!
Perspective.
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glitzbot · 1 year
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what if in TFP, Cybertronians weren't introduced to the concept of kissing until they came to Earth? 🤔
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pumpkinnkidd · 9 months
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leafpool should get to say the line not grey wing the ass
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ancrky · 12 days
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the moment brennan pulled out the real exam questions every dnd player started praying to every god in the universe that their dm wouldn’t find out and do this, and every dm took down a little note
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kiashieart · 1 year
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director clavell i have feelings for u 🥺
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strangersmunsons · 29 days
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Eddie goes shopping with you. eddie munson x gn!reader, ~900 words
“Okay, now what do you think of this?” You hold out a crisp white button-down shirt.
“I think that’s great,” he says automatically. 
“Eddie,” you sigh impatiently, “you’ve said that about every article of clothing we’ve seen today. I need like, an actual opinion.”
“That is an actual opinion.” He sounds offended that you might suggest otherwise.
“C’mon, I’m trying to look professional! You gotta help me.”
“I am helping!” Eddie holds up both arms to emphasize his point — he’s laden with bags from the stores you hit earlier in your shopping venture, weighed down with the new clothes you’re purchasing so as to better look the part for your new job.
A small giggle escapes you in spite of your exasperation. “I told you you don’t have to carry any of those,” you remind him, folding your arms across your chest.
Eddie scoffs. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you haul this crap around all day?” He shakes his head, dark curls tumbling about his soft face. “No way. Wayne raised me right, thank you.”
“Well, that he certainly did,” you admit, a rush of affection warming your chest. Unable to help yourself, you reach out and pinch his little cheek between your thumb and index finger.
He pouts at the gesture, pretending to be annoyed; but really, a thrill shoots through him at the brief moment of contact. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for you to be touching him always. 
But it’s not like that. Not for you two.
Eddie tells himself that it’s okay, that he’s accepted it, he’ll content himself with daydreams and fantasies as he always has —
“Do you think black looks classier, though?” You’ve turned back to face the clothing rack again, thoughtfully fingering the silky fabric of a dark shirtsleeve. Your eyes narrow. “Or is it almost too formal?”
Eddie blinks dazedly, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wear black all the time, no one’s ever put me up for best dressed.” He frowns. “I suppose it’s a little different when it’s a Metallica t-shirt, though.”
You poke him playfully. “Or ripped jeans.”
Eddie swats your hand away, heart leaping.
You snicker in response, then soften. “For the record, I do like the way you dress. It goes with your whole thing, y’know?” You motion towards him vaguely, hands waving up and down his figure.
“My thing?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum. “The hair, the attitude, the music. Even your name. The whole thing.”
“What does my name have to do with any of that stuff?”
You shift your weight from foot to foot as you think about how to word your answer, tongue poking ever so slightly out of your mouth — an unconscious imitation of the face Eddie often makes when he’s focusing. He swoons a little when he realizes that you’re picking up some of his habits.
“I mean, if I didn’t know who you were, and someone told me to pick out the guy named Eddie Munson from a crowd of a hundred people, I could do it like that,” you tell him, snapping your fingers on the last word. “No one has ever looked more like they should be named Eddie Munson than you.” Your eyes cut over to his. “Does that make sense?”
Bewildered, Eddie’s eyebrows have shot up so high they’ve all but disappeared under his bangs. “…kind…of?”
You pat his shoulder, amused. “Don’t worry about it. Just look at the shirt.”
Obediently, his gaze flits back to the top. You smile expectantly, and he works to offer some sincere judgment. 
“Um, it looks comfier than the white one? Not as starchy.”
You nod sagely. “True.” You examine it more closely, a flicker of uncertainty clouding your features. “Do you think it’d look okay on me?”
Of course he does. He thinks you look nice in everything. In your pajamas, in your dressiest formalwear — it doesn’t matter. He never wants to hold you any less. To him, you’ve always the most beautiful person in the world. Whatever you happen to put on your body is irrelevant.
But this is the whole point of him accompanying you; he practically begged for you to let him tag along, swearing that it would be fun and that he’d help you. You’d been a smidge embarrassed at first, certain he’d grow impatient with your indecisiveness and bored with the constant vanishing into dressing rooms, but you seem comfortable now, letting him tote your bags around and asking for his advice. He hopes you’ll take him again next time, and then the next time, and then again after that…
“Yes, I do. I think you’d look really wonderful,” he finally answers. “You look incredible in everything you wear. Honest. You don’t need to worry about anything you buy today.”
Your eyes shine, a bashful smile spreading across your lips. “Really?”
“Of course,” he replies, face reddening. “You — you could wear a potato sack and make it look good, frankly.”
You laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that would be very flattering on me.”
“Hey, I think you could rock it.” He knows you think he’s teasing you, but he means it. And he’ll tell you again, and again, and again, until you believe him.
He’s got nothing but time.
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illuteridae · 2 months
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middle school
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