Dark Red // Requested
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Credit
Insta @/hakoniwa01
Misplaced Lens Cap

tannertan36

Kaledo Art

Product Placement

#extradirty
Claire Keane

Discoholic 🪩

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h
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Mike Driver
cherry valley forever

Love Begins
Sweet Seals For You, Always
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

blake kathryn
NASA

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@hawthorncandy
Dark Red // Requested
I don’t own or take any credit for any of these pictures.
Credit
Insta @/hakoniwa01

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Being lonely is not the same as being alone.
Loneliness isn't present in the moments of solitude that bring us joy and recharge our batteries.
Loneliness finds us when we're surrounded by people.
Suffocated by those that don't truly accept us.
Since we really need the people that value us.
The ones that let us breathe.
Loneliness creeps in when we tell ourselves we're fine walking alone.
While really wanting a volunteer to walk with us.
Loneliness flows freely in the tears we cry alone
Because we really need someone to hold us tight.
And loneliness smacks us in the face
When we realize what we've really lost.
Because loneliness isn't born of solitude. It's born of a wish.
A wish for connection.
A wish for friendship.
A wish to give love.
A wish to be loved.
And those that have been lonely?
They know wishes don't always come true.
So they'll cherish those connections every opportunity they get.
Art by GA IS
Before I knew I was bisexual I was just insanely dramatic and weird around guys I liked. I had a crush on this guy in my ward - he was older than me, he played bagpipes and had a cheerful dog and an old Volkswagen bus that he worked on all the time. He also had nice scruff and unnaturally attractive hands and a good sense of humor, so I was like FULLY smitten.
I talked about him a lot and about how he was just so dang COOL, dang it, because he was so frickin’ cool. And I really liked him. I thought he was funny and smart and interesting and cool and fascinating and a bunch of other weird feelings I barely had the attention span to think about (I think my ADHD may have prevented me from coming out for a while tbh).
One day, I’m like 14-15, his dad is called to be my Sunday School teacher. His dad is this ex-military hardass with a chip on his shoulder for absolutely no reason and unattainable standards for his children. He spent most of Sunday School talking shit about his eldest boy and how he was rebellious and didn’t listen to him and how that was going to make him a bad adult and a bad son forever. How his son was too lazy and unmotivated to be successful because he didn’t listen to his advice on how to read the scriptures. He complained about how our generation was too weak to do things right and that our generation would surely be the one that brought the world’s downfall because of our laziness and sin.
And like, first of all, that guy can already go fuck himself for that. To clarify, that’s already stupid. BUT. He was talking about the man I had uncomfortable dreams about at least once a month. I couldn’t stand it. I’d get so mad I’d go home shaking sometimes because how fucking DARE he insult his hardworking stunning son by calling him lazy? For not reading the Bible the way his dad wants? When he’s already spending his time learning bagpipes? And fixing cars? And being cool? And cute? Who the fuck even cares if he uses the footnotes in the Book of Mormon? Who gives a rotten rat’s ass if he doesn’t use the scripture study manual his dad uses? He’s so cool he doesn’t even need it? So fuck off?
And eventually I got fucking Sick Of It and decided to mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean skip class. I’d just not go. And after a bit, adults started noticing and bugging me about it. At first, this was put off by small talk and excuses, but as my absence from Sunday School became more well-known, my excuses began to be rejected.
“Oh, Lizard, why aren’t you in class?” Uhm idk because my Sunday School teacher is mean to his kid and that makes me so mad wtf do you want from me? 🫠🤔
“Where’s your class, I’ll go with you!” Oh no ty I’d rather peel my own eyes than have my taste in men critiqued tyty 🩷
“Lizard, you should go to class, I’m sure they miss you!” And I miss the innocent days where my stomach didn’t hurt when a cool boy I knew was being belittled but unfortunately for us both those days are LONG gone and all that’s left is a budding psychosexual clusterfuck that will render me almost fully incapable of functioning for the better part of a decade so Bye Bye, sister Smith 🙂↕️
It had gotten to the point that ward leadership was involved. I was being approached by members of the Young Men’s presidency and the Bishopric to try and make me to back to class. They were telling me God had told them to find me and instruct me on my rebelliousness. This is where I implemented my secret weapon - women. Mormons are weird as hell about a lot of things, but especially about women. And I was GREAT with women. So to combat the leadership’s attention, I started helping women.
Our ward had a lot of new moms with babies who were, as babies tend to be, fussy. But for Mormon women the church is often their only social outlet, so they try to power through as long as they can even if it means enduring the exhausting ordeal of taking care of a fussy baby at church.
For what it’s worth, I have a lot of sway with babies. I got baby street cred. Me and babies have a rapport. I have always known this. I have always loved this. And in this crucial gay time in my faggot life my baby mind powers came in clutch - Every time I saw a member of the bishopric getting close, or a young men’s leader giving me side-eye, I’d start walking slowly towards class, passing by relief society. I’d wait until a mom’s baby had gotten too fussy and needed to leave the room, and I’d swoop in like a knight. “Oh, don’t you worry sister, I’ll bounce him a bit. You go back and hang out with your friends in class. You deserve a break.”
If it was a diaper change or something they’d tell me no. But if it was just some good old-fashioned baby fusses, I mean, they’d be moved almost to tears. They just got their social time back AND a free babysitter who is renowned as the Baby Whisperer. And because I was holding a baby as a favor for someone else, I of course could not reasonably be bothered to return to class.
So just like that, I was out of everyone’s sights. This went on for about a month before the straw that broke the camel’s back, which was that without my class participation the classes were quiet and awkward. I’d often take the brunt of Sunday school lectures by answering questions impulsively and over explaining myself enough that the clock could run out without anyone needing to do or say much. My absence meant everyone else was getting hit with the full unpleasantness of this guy’s bullshit. And so slowly, one-by-one, I had a group of about 8 kids on baby-holding duty. These new moms were so overjoyed, they and their husbands were both so actively in our corner that now chastising us was untenable. Now we had bargaining power. So the Bishopric approached us, confused beyond confused and uncomfortable beyond uncomfortable, and said,
“What’s it gonna take to get you back to class?”
The POWER I possessed in that moment was addictive. By being kind to the women of the ward and ignoring the Mormon de facto Rule of Law of following rules en-masse so the rule breakers feel left out, there were now so many people breaking ranks that we had effectively enacted a church boy labor strike. And they crumbled so fast it was almost like we had swayed God himself to our cause.
“I want brother assholedad gone. He sucks at teaching.”
I didn’t even have to say it. One of my rebels said it for me. I just nodded sagely and said “Yes, his class is not edifying. It’s better to not go and hold babies.”
And just like that, with a snap of my limp-wristed, Christ-wounding, bottom-brained fingers my faggot will was enacted. God’s revelation that brother shitdad was his chosen Sunday school teacher flipped on a dime. Suddenly brother shitdad was asked to be an usher and the fun dad of another one of my crushes was called in to teach us. I still stayed to hold babies a lot, but the rest of the class returned and all was well again.
Although I didn’t recognize it then, I think that was a formative moment for me in a lot of ways. I learned that being really persistently annoying will get me what I want from authority eventually. I learned that God’s will can be swayed by going in strike. I learned that ignoring men’s made up authority forces them to level with you as a person. I learned that caring for women, especially vulnerable women, can make a whole world happier. I learned that letting women rest can help them feel more love for the things that matter in their life. I learned that social bonds make everyone stronger and happier. And I learned that loving others in a gay way can change the world.
Be gayer. Read Terry Pratchett. I love y’all 💕
Want to be down left but feeling top right🫠

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Art by Davood Moghaddami
Food Art by Alai Ganuza
The day I decided to not talk first , I stayed silent for a long time .
It is like a slap in some ways . Much required though . How would I ever know how much effort does it take for others to pry apart their jaw for me ?
I thought it to be easy . Should I forgive myself for misunderstanding the limits of the human jaw or forgive others for not making the great effort ?
[ edit : fuck it was nothing . Most probably]
There is a certain truth to me . And it never hurts the same . I had not , thus I not need . Once I have , a need is born . And I must get over this too . Just as I got over its lack , I must get over its lack after having it once . But the lack of never having and once having are both lacks . Lacks of the same family but just like siblings , very very different .
Should I curse the one who plagued me with wants ? I was fine coping with familiar beast of never having . Once having is a fanged beast I have no means to wrestle .
I have yet again turned weak . The work I did upon myself has turned to naught . The tricks of past cannot placate my insecure heart .

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I just learned Jansport is making adaptable bags for mobility devices and thought I should share
They even have audio descriptions
[ID: a screenshot of the mobile Jansport website. There is a banner that says 'free standard shipping.' Under the banner is a link that says 'for audio description video click here.' Under the link is an illustration of 4 different types of mobility devices, each with its own adaptable Jansport bag. End ID.]
Jansport is a little pricey but it isn't like the adaptable bags are any more expensive than their other stuff, which is nice to see too!
Oh this is sick
Jansport is pricey because it's the last bag you'll ever have to buy. Seriously, buy two Jansport bags, when one breaks you send it back to Jansport and they fix it and send it back to you. In the meantime you use the second bag.
I hate the mothers of sons . Ungrateful bitches that think they are worth something because their son became successful . My mother is worth her weight in gold , her success is more if not equal to your son' s . How dare you speak those words to me ? I dare not repeat them not because it is not only not my place to tell you of them but also how disgusted I am .
Mothers of sons forget that their DIL are women too , that they themselves have been in this position yet everytime I expect better from them , they drag my expectation throught the fucking mud along with the dignity of my mother . Sometimes I'd wish you died . I wouldn't care for his tears . I wish to scream in front of him , that his best is not enough . We have always deserved more .
If you suffered , then my mother suffered more . Yet you dare pretend that you are the only one under such immense pressure .

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There is a scene in Cherry Magic that exemplifies what I love about stories with magic realism.
During a drunken game at a work dinner, Adachi and Kurosawa are asked to kiss.
Adachi braces himself. He’s uncomfortable with the whole thing and it shows clearly on his face. Kurosawa, who’s leaning over to plant the kiss and get it over with, notices his distress. So, instead of kissing him on the lips, he drops a quick peck on his forehead.
Adachi - who can hear thoughts through touch - is startled at Kurosawa’s thoughts. He’s sorry. He didn’t want to force a kiss on Adachi like this. Since Adachi already knows Kurosawa’s feelings for him, he follows the man out to check on him. This time when Adachi’s fingers accidentally touch Kurosawa, Adachi is the one to notice the other man’s internal distress.
Kurosawa is wrestling with himself. He had already told himself that Adachi would never reciprocate his feelings. So even though a small part of him was happy to get close to Adachi, most of him was crushed at the thought that Adachi must have hated the kiss.
The reason this scene is so great is because of what happens next. Kurosawa is the confident, outgoing colleague Adachi has always been in awe of. Adachi is introverted and doesn’t express himself too well. But because Adachi has heard Kurosawa’s most intimate feelings, he feels the unfairness of knowing too much. He understands that there’s an imbalance and feels compelled to correct it.
You can almost feel the crushing pressure on his narrow shoulders as he pushes himself to explain to Kurosawa why he looked distressed. It wasn’t because of Kurosawa, it was because he was inexperienced and afraid. He didn’t hate the kiss.
It wasn’t a confession, just a deep desire not to hurt the man who’s been exceptionally kind to him and somehow also seems to really like and respect him. But saying just that much would have been beyond Adachi, if he didn’t suddenly develop mind reading powers which made it impossible for him to ignore Kurosawa’s feelings.
The guy who would usually keep to himself, second guess anything he did notice about others, and live by a motto of inaction was pushed to speak out because he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know Kurosawa was hurting.
Of course a scene like this could be written without magic realism, but for a character as insular and hesitant as Adachi, you’d need magic to make this happen.