sorry for posting about supernatural, it will happen again
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@inkcaviness
sorry for posting about supernatural, it will happen again

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I need to make something really elaborate and cool (doesn't move
trying to couch nap but they’re observing me
I wanted to draw them
their shapes are compelling
LOL so the other day I was scampering about squeaking and looking for cheese and such when I saw the farmer out in the field and, get this, he was trying to pull a turnip out of the ground, but the turnip was like really big, right, so he couldn’t do it 😅 like he was really struggling. Weak fuckinh farmer. So he calls over his wife and she holds onto his waist and starts pulling too but the turnip is still stuck. So she calls over their kid and she grabs onto her grandma and now all three of them are huffing and puffing but the damn turnip won’t budge. This is one crazy ass root vegetable. So they call over the dog and I’m thinking, girl, this is not going to work. but the dog bites down on the kids pants and starts pulling. It’s like a damn conga line. No dice. The dog starts whimpering and next thing you know the cat wanders over and bites the mutt right on her tail and starts pulling. So I’m laughing my ass off at this point but the cat starts looking at me. And normally we don’t really get on, the cat and me. But there’s this desperation in her eyes. In all of their eyes, really. Like, if I can’t dig up a damn tuber then who am I. What’s the point of it all, if there’s an enormous turnip that’s stronger than me. And I can see the future unfolding in my mind. The cat will never respect the dog again, and dog will never obey the kid, who will probably run away from home to find a new jacked grandma. And the farmers wife will leave him, and the whole damn charade of masculinity will crumble and fall. And I shouldn’t care right. I have no stake in this. This is some funny shit. But how funny would it be if little old me pitched in and the turnip actually came uprooted. I’ve got no ego. nobody respects a gay little mouse in this city. If I don’t make a difference here, no loss. But if I save the day? Can you imagine? Outdid by a mouse? The farmer would be delivering me fresh brie on the daily and the cat would probably have to move to a different area code to escape the mockery. So, in the spirit of cooperation, I grab the cat’s tail, and I give a little tug. Just the one. And I swear to god, it feels like an earthquake. Up comes the turnip, big as a house, and the farmer falls on his ass, and so does his wife, and all down the line. And I hop up on the cats head and scamper up the backs of the team as they catch their breath, and I leap up onto the turnip itself and I take a big bite out of it. And let me tell you: that shit? Tasted like a turnip

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you strike me as someone who could properly tile a roof if he tried and i respect that a lot
I firmly believe I could do anything no matter what
I meant more like a skill or something
are you implying there is no skill to breast milk?
I was really just hoping breast milk wouldn’t become a major part of this conversation.
Hell yeah it's the trans butch store
never lose hope. somewhere, a middle-aged, gender ambiguous person with an advanced degree in an esoteric field and a fiber arts hobby could be crashing out and pinning all their remaining mental health on getting obsessed with your otp. any day now, the most elegantly written 100k fanfic you have ever read is going to hit ao3. it could happen. it has happened.
A while back my pharmacist saw my deadname on my profile and accidentially called it out, he corrected and deleted my deadname from the system so only my preferred name shows up now. There was a crowd of people behind me, so as he hands over the pills he apologized, in equal tone and volume as when he called my deadname and lied saying it's been a long day and he didn't mean to call out -his own- name. I quietly told him it was fine and he didn't need to do that for my sake.
His response: "No, it's my name now."
I went to the pharmacist yesterday, his nametag is my deadname. He informed me he's immigrating and in the process he's changed his first name to my deadname to have an English sounding name. That's why he's now able to get a reprint of his nametag to be my deadname. And repeated, with the intense seriousness of someone who is going to die on this hill: "It's mine now. Not yours. I'm taking." His tone indicated that decision is final.
Bro literally deadnamed me once, and has committed to flat out stealing my deadname. It's his now. Legally. Officially. I over heard his co-workers call him by the name.
steps

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top 5 me posts of all time
has anyone seen my pet bacteriophage its name is styrofoam and its about [hand touching the floor] this tall
is okay you do not need hard drive. i remember computer for you.
thank you for teaching me important tech vocabulary @kirbymybeloved

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the part of adulthood that no one ever warns you about is the amount of surfaces you need to acquire to put your things and trinkets on