As much as a free website it is, it's good to have the courtesy of not leaving tags of another ship on making a post about a precise ship. It's particularly distasteful when the original post's ship is on the rare side and people of more popular one barge in to make that post about their own ship in tags. Like sure no one can tell you not to do something but this is some little human courtesy in my opinion
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my upstairs neighbor is so loud and annoying and all he does is yell and play video games but right now he's explaining the civil war and like the entire history of slavery and the prison industrial complex to some guy in overwatch voice chat so
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if you donate one single us dollar to the unrwa, you will have donated more money than you would have by clicking that stupid arab.orb link every day for four and a half years. yes, they do actually donate money to the unrwa, but even with tens of thousands of clicks, most of that money is the baseline $90 they send every quarter. from 2023 quarter 4, half a million clicks turned into $380.57. maths out to six hundreths of one cent per click. just donate to unrwa.
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the 'all marriage is gay as far as im concerned' except its me watching a man and woman character in a show i like and accidentally saying 'theyre so gay' because i literally forget thats not the word for romance because to me all romance is gay
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THANK YOU. JESUS CHRIST THIS DRIVES ME INSANE EVERY FUCKING TIME BE NICE TO THE PSYCHROLUTES GOD
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Simon who is generally against animals - due to his past with his father, you understand. Dogs, cats, birds, especially snakes. Thinks they’re a mess waiting to happen (and he’s right, they’re always making a mess if your mutt is anything to go by).
Simon who is walking through a rainy-day London, on leave for the time being, going to your apartment. He passes by an alley and hears the strangled mewling of a…well, a tiny kitten. He almost walks past, but the little thing darts out and almost gets trampled by his big boots. No survival skills, this one. The thing is sopping wet, orange fur dragging on the ground and tail a small waving stick drenched by rain. Simon looks at it, its pitiful shaking as it takes what shelter it can get under this big man, and sighs.
Simon who arrives at your apartment a little late, a little wet. Your mutt is the first to greet him at the door, butt wiggling and licking his lips in excitement, dragging his favorite toy over to show. You go to greet Simon with a hug when he stops you, fumbling with something at the top of his buttoned-up jacket. A little orange head pokes out suddenly, the kitten looking sleepy from the warmth of Simon’s chest.
Your eyes go wide. “Is that a – “
“Yeh,” he sighs through his mask, closing the door behind him, “don’t make a big deal of it.”
Hard not to. And while you dry off the small thing and have Simon google how to take care of a kitten, one thing is clear: you are going to marry this man if it’s the last thing you do.
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