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#happy spring everyone
liones-s · 1 year
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04/01/23 Saturday morning. blank pages and raw figs
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coline7373 · 19 days
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sugaryewscythe · 1 year
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happy spring 🌱 ༄ ✧ ・゚
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desicowgirl · 1 month
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Short king spring is almost upon us ladies: Remember to take your allergy medication.
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a-girl-called-bob · 1 year
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youtube
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mechizilla · 1 month
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alone they are weak but together they have the strength of at least one house wife
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girlfictions · 1 year
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— Anne Carson, The Glass Essay
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Advanced Hall Monitor Technique: Go To Detention
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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clownsuu · 10 months
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This came to me randomly and i fucking I had to draw it LMAOO
I COULDA SWORN I REBLOGGED THIS (apparently I didn’t smhhh man my memory is shid) BUT ITS SO CUTEEJCJDJDMD (scary dog privileges)
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Here’s some doodles for road smhh 😔🥄🥄 (and a bonus Rob being a lil hater)
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chlo-le-mouton · 2 months
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Snufkin coming back to moominvalley
I can't wait for the new game aaaaaaaahhhh
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cosimad · 2 years
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↳How long have you known?
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help im getting emotional over satoru gojo again
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fairweathermyth · 2 years
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LITTLE FOREST (2018) dir. Yim Soon-rye
I make sweet chestnuts even sweeter to store them, so that I won't eat them all at once. Glazed chestnuts tasting this good means it is deep into Autumn.
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campesine-moved · 1 year
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Silly Symphony - Funny Little Bunnies (1934)
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miss-what-a-d0ll · 1 month
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𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉! 🍀
(𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆) 🤗
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eclairfair98 · 4 months
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“Oh, but you see, Kazansky,” the boy looks down at him and smiles. Engulfed by the honey-gold haze of a sharp summer sun, the sweetest, most reckless thing he’s ever seen. “I am dangerous!”
And there’s something about that smile, guilelessly fluttering across his flushed face like a hummingbird taking flight, that digs into Tom’s chest like the gentlest of knives. Cleaves its way between his ribs.
Fills his heart with light.
It’s strange, how quickly it all happens. How startlingly unremarkable it really is. How Tom takes a deep breath, lets the faint wisps of warm vanilla sugar trickle down his too-dry throat, closes his eyes, and just knows: he might’ve entered this quaint house in the middle of nowhere with a firm plan in mind to destroy any chances his father had of securing a betrothal (even if that meant stooping low-enough to make a thirteen-year-old cry) but hurting Pete Mitchell in any shape or form, wouldn’t sit right with his conscience.
Knows that there’s no reason why Mrs Mitchell should be so intent on finding her son a match at such short notice, especially when he’s so young. (Especially when she doesn’t seem like one of those parents that unfortunately, aren’t all that uncommon in the Navy: who think their omega children have little value beyond the connections they can help forge via bonding and marriage.)
Recognizes dire straits when they’re staring him in the face: the thinly-veiled distress in Mrs Mitchell’s dull green eyes; the worn dress shirt that’s almost two sizes too big for Pete — that he was probably supposed to grow into several months ago, but never did; the stale scent of grief and pain that clings to even the most carefully-polished surface of their home.
Finds himself thinking that maybe, it isn’t all that strange. Maybe, he could spend the rest of his life with this boy. Finding out what makes him smile. What makes him laugh. What is his favorite dream to dream.
In the end, it all comes down to this: Sometimes, you meet a person and it feels like you’ve known them your entire life. A quiet sense of belonging settles in your bones, and you realize you’d do anything to keep them happy and secure.
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