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#lmoa
spacepatrolhana · 5 months
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rookieoneil · 7 months
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Wade: we are in the middle of a man hunt for 10 escaped prisoners and you all are watching Greys anatomy
Lucy stuffing her face with chips: we are on our break
Angela: Mcdreamy just punched McSteamy. Its thrilling tv
Aaron: i gotta admit, it’s a good show
Wade: lord help me😐
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hazelcephalopod · 5 days
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Malcolm: my eyes hurt. I think that fucking powder did something to me.
Edgar: well. Good news. I am not a internist so we’ll have to go to someone in the 4th Pharos.
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cryptiduni · 10 months
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being a dad is hard.
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astrxlfinale · 4 days
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I’m Joey Wheeler! I’m from Brooklyn. AYEEEEE, PIZZA!
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"WHO JUST SAYS PIZZA LIKE IT'S A DAMN QUOTE OR MOUTHY PUNCHLINE?"
"I BET YOU DON'T EVEN LIKE THE TOP OPTION OF LITTLE CAESARS, JACKASS!"
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mxiize · 25 days
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Date idea: I come over and stare at you like this
@crystalmagpie447
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dollopheadedmerlin · 6 months
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Gonna be sciencey for a second here
Okay so the universe is infinitely expanding, yes?
Also, if we adopt the belief that the big bang was the beginning of space time, the universe was all once a hot, dense point within which contained the start of all energy and matter, yes?
So, does that mean, that, not only are we able to achieve life on this planet by the chance of our planet's composition and proximity to the sun and whatnot, but ALSO because of our placement in TIME that allows for organisms such as ourselves to exist due to the density of the universe in this stretch of history?
Like, in many billion years, will matter be too far apart to support this type of life, or life at all? Because the space between things grows infinitely wider as time progresses. So even the space between each atom grows wider as the universe ages, just so imperceptibly slow that we will NEVER practically see the evidence of this.
Or am I misunderstanding?
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monards · 3 months
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i will never shut up about how well this image conveys magnolia's energy.
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captaincrusher · 1 year
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youtube
This has me howling. I love this guy's songs.
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mochi-paradise · 1 year
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Oh oh il y a de la tromperie dans l'air (00) / Oh oh there's cheating in the air (00)
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Reference : Si on jouait à cupidon.com (= Let's play cupid.com) & Si on jouait à chuis trop mad (=Let's play I'm so mad)
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beewineline · 10 months
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The horny duo
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rookieoneil · 7 months
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Lucy: I’m not a gossip
Also Lucy to Tim as they get ready for bed: you’ll never believe what Smitty did today-
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dirtreally · 10 months
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nikeangelmii · 1 year
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Look what I found! XD
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goobiestar · 1 year
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Trying SO hard not to make more goosefeather / goosepine headcanons cmon you can do this bro
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buttercup--bee · 2 years
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HHTC CH III Sneak Peak:
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Warnings: Mention(s) of Physical/Emotional/Mental Abuse; Severe Depression; Minors DNI;
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There's a monster in your bed. 
A creature devoid of compassion. It itches for comprehension of the unknown - what renders firing synapses to a halt. To re-awaken century old fears in the hopes of a collective remedy. That somehow, deep inside a human’s brain, the monster can scoop out what makes humanity primal in everything but genuine empathy. 
That instinct, basic as it is natural to be cruel, a liar, impassive in all things but self interest. The beast at your side, it swallows hope whole, and has become what it hates most. Or perhaps it’d always been like this? Devoted to a system it could not prove existed. Willing to cross lines meant for the sane all for a precious project. 
Yes, it’s a monster that holds you tight, curling his head at your shoulder. The same beast to have knelt on one knee, who had promised your safety and deceived you into believing his devotion was for you alone. 
It’d been a beautiful mirage - elegant and propitious and above all else, arduous. He’d let you believe in him, in all he had to offer and more. 
But time has passed, and now you lay in your grave nestled in silk. He tightens his hold subconsciously, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your stomach and just above your rib cage. You’d push him away if you had the strength to. Would’ve wrenched yourself free and fled from this ornate cage of a house. 
Experimentation went on far longer than promised, however, and you ache in every possible sense of the word. Dreary, absent in mind and body; feeling is as if you were drifting above your own body. Watching from afar as Jon encases you, buries you beneath heavy bones and sinew. 
An auspicious encounter that you are forced under day and night. He’s been getting soft, lucid amidst his own speculations and tests. Tears of frustration gather at the corner of your eyes - if you weren’t numb, if you could lift even a finger, you’d steal away your life and hide. 
Why were you condemned to this? What had you done in life that deserved such torment? It's not as if you were a bad person. You attended city council, donated to charity when possible, helped where needed - and you are given a life of cruelty in exchange. 
A great deal of you believes it's your fault. That you’ve done this to yourself. That you gave into devotion and allowed it to blind you from avid truths. 
And God, you’re tired. Exhausted of all your energy, breathing itself has become a strenuous effort. Vision blurring, warm tears lick at your cheeks, chapped lips cracking as you attempt to hold in the sobs. 
He claims to love you. Swears up and down his experiments are for your benefit. To extract your past, to come to terms with it all, to live a life without terror; it is a part of letting go, accepting horror and its place within your mind. That his merciless trials are a kindness, a definitive proclamation of adoration.
This wasn’t love.
You can’t love a man in the dark, nor can he express the same after what he’s done. What he’ll continue to do again and again and again. When it comes down to it, despite all the memories that you hold dear to your heart, his smile, laugh, the rough buzz of his throat when he’d embrace you, how he once looked to you as if you were the only person in the world - that man died. 
Survival isn’t enough anymore. Nor are your hopes that Jon might return to you. 
Eventually, you would have to think of something. A time when you weren’t incapable of simple motor skills. Biding your time for the long haul seemed to be the only decision worth planning. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you hiss at the way it scratches your throat. 
Jon twitches, clinging to you further, and you decide then that you can bide your time. You’ve already spent two years doing so for him, you could manage twice as much for yourself. You have to. 
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