:D
"Hey," Dean waved at the other, a grin on his face.

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EXPECTATIONS
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

Love Begins
NASA
Today's Document

pixel skylines

shark vs the universe

tannertan36
Xuebing Du

JVL

bliss lane
taylor price

oozey mess
Misplaced Lens Cap
RMH
Mike Driver

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@petwinchester
:D
"Hey," Dean waved at the other, a grin on his face.
//I just want you to know that I was thinking about Dean singing Jessie a lullaby and then your drabble popped into my head. The one that had me crying at like 7 in the morning; about little Dean being taken from Mary. So naturally I thought about Dean singing "You Are My Sunshine" to Jess because maybe Mary sang that to him. And he doesn't remember her well, sure, but he remembers that song and now I'm having feels about it all over again and it's totally your fault.
Ooc: Oh my god.... That is beautiful.
Dean it's almost Samhain
âIt is?â Dean had been trying to do more research on the events that were important to his friend and roommate, but he still wasnât so great at the whole dates thing. Dates were so specific.
âI guess it is that time of year. What, um, did you want to do?â He arched a brow curiously, closing his book.
Weâve previously written about âbook cursesâ and other threatening inscriptions left by the young owners of early textbooks. Â But while these formulaic ownership notes were fairly common, they certainly werenât the only things schoolchildren were penning in their books.
Not every student cared for their textbooks enough to claim ownership so strongly. Â On the contrary, another very common type of annotation we see in schoolbooks of this era is the student complaint â many schoolchildren, especially in the 19th and early 20th centuries, used the flyleaves and margins of their textbooks to make disparaging remarks about their teachers, classes, or the books themselves.
The owner of our first book above, an 1881 textbook of ânatural philosophy,â puts his own indifferent twist on a traditional ownership rhyme:
Steal this Book if you dare, but I donât care.
The second note, penned in a 1913 geometry text by a female student (she identifies herself elsewhere in the book), playfully expresses the annotatorâs reservations about her math class:
It is with great reluctance that I pursue the study of Geometry. Heres hoping that I pass it without causing any serious illness to me or my Geometry teacher.
Later in the same volume, we find a terse update in the same hand:
Geometry is bunk.
Perhaps it should come as no surprise that math classes have aroused similar feelings in other students.  Some of our next annotations, in a 1929 junior mathematics textbook, take aim at the book itself (literally).  In addition to the target drawn on the pastedown, we find a number of acerbic inscriptions:
IN CASE OF FIRE THROW THIS IN FIRST!
If poison wont kill you, try math
SLOW DEATH
But of course it wasnât only math that had students complaining. Â We find a take on the âpoisonâ line used above in another 1920s textbook, this one a 5th and 6th grade Aldine Speller:
If Rat Poison Fails Try This.
And penciled on the top edge of a 1923 composition textbook, we find this accusatory line:
WHY STUDENTS GET GREY
Our final set of examples is a little different.  While the previous user of this 1950s biology text doesnât often explicitly complain about her class, she does make use of her schoolbookâs margins to make dozens and dozens of notes counting down the weeks, days, or hours until she can leave her boarding school and return home.
These are just a few examples of the colorful inscriptions found in our textbook collection. Â Schoolchildren of the past, just like students of today, expressed a range of emotions about their classes â and just like today, those emotions were often (unfortunately) indifferent or negative.
~Andrew
That random person you met online and now is a big part of your life
Thanks for taking the time to read this short note from one who escaped being aborted. In 1937, my mother was told that if she did not have an abortion she and the baby would die. Her decision allowed me to have 78 years and counting. My mother died, but not until 1987. What a shame that the helpless, totally powerless innocent lives of the living human beings don't have a say in the decision to butcher and sell their body parts. Aren't you fortunate that your mother chose life for you?
Okay, I wasnât gonna get too much into this, but I feel I need to comment.
Firstly, my mother wanted a second child anyway, and my birth was a typical one, so thatâs irrelevant.Â
Secondly, if there were complications, and my mother needed an abortion, or if my mother wasnât prepared to raise another child or even go through labour again, then THATâS HER CHOICE. I wouldnât give a shit if my mom decided to abort me as a fetus, because a) I was a group of bodily fluids and stem cells at the time who couldnât spell abortion and didnât have a brain to know what an abortion was, and b) Iâm the one whoâs taking residence in her body. Itâs like telling a lazy bro who eats all your food and doesnât pay rent and practically suffocates you with their presence that they need to get out of their fucking apartment, only I wouldnât be a fully-developed person with clothes and a social security number.
Thirdly, your mom was told sheâd die and she didnât. Good for her and good for you. There are SO many people who arenât as lucky, and do in fact die because they donât have access to a safe, life-saving abortion. There are people who experience miscarriages who need to have abortions in order to save their own lives. Which would you rather have: a clump of developing cells terminated, or the slow, violent, internal death of a fully grown person and THEN that clump of developing cells terminated? Because many people donât have that luck that your mom had.
Fourthly, unintended pregnancies happen. Condoms can break. Condoms can just not work. Birth control can just not work. Rape happens (I despise that it happens, but it does). People have sex without proper sex education (abstinence advocation is not a fucking substitute for this). People change their goddamn minds about wanting to be a parent. ALL OF THESE ARE OKAY REASONS TO HAVE AN ABORTION.
Fifthly, and I want to stress this so badly,Â
NO ONE IS EXCITED TO GET AN ABORTION.Â
Despite what you may see on South Park, no one says, âYippee! I can get an abortion!â Itâs already emotionally taxing enough for people without a bunch of protesters yelling at you that youâre âmurderingâ your fetus.
Sixthly, fuck you with your passive-aggressive bullshit.Â
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this happened to me at school last week
Watch: This neuroscientist destroyed the biggest myths about the war on drugsÂ
Always reblog Carl Hart. Always. *heart eye emoji*
i toakttree:
there was a great piece on him in the new york times a few years ago:Â
âthe rational choices of crack addictsâ
Bae đ
when u finally nail the high note -Â more vines
I love this vine so much
âThere,â Dean said said triumphantly, a small grin on his face as he stared down at the final tomato plant to have been planted. The water was beautiful, though it always was thanks to the various spells cast upon the house and its grounds. Officially, regardless of the regular weather, the snow had melted and spring was in full blast. Dean had decided that gardening would be an interesting thing to learn --- heâd been curious about how food is grown for some time now.
âTomatoes, peas, beans, carrots, and zucchini,â he nodded as he said each, mentally checking them off. âWatering and then time to relax.âÂ
It had been several years since Dean had moved to this town, since he had broken up with his lover, since... since a freak chance of fate had pulled him from his reality to this one. Â His stress induced stutter did not plague him, as it used to, though during particularly stressful moments it could still spring up from time to time.Â
Reading, writing, cooking... Heâd gotten quite good at it --- at being domestic. But... He could he was getting restless. He wondered what was happening in his world, what was happening in this world. There had to be more to do but he wasnât sure how. For the moment he stayed, stayed in the safety of the house as he had promised Eros he would, and he learned and grew.Â
He was... what, 24 now? He wasnât as small or lanky as he used to be, though Dean hadnât really noticed the development. Malnourished thin arms and legs and been replaced with thicker, stockier, and slightly muscled limbs.
âLemonade might be nice.â He wiped sweat and dirt from his face, really only smearing the mud further, as he put the hose down, plants sated.Â
(donât fear)
Modern AU (based off a convo me and petwinchester had via skype)
The one where Ramiel is a lawyer and Deanâs a part time mechanic. The rest of the time Dean hunts the supernatural. And the twain shall never meet⌠until Dean fucks up on a hunt and gets himself into some legal trouble. Trespassing, property damage, and possibly possession of an illegal weapon. Nothing he hasnât faced before except the prosecution actually hired a competent (and kinda hot) lawyer this time- Ramiel.
Not that Dean doesnât trust his brother, Sam, to get them through this, but that obnoxiously uptight lawyer wonât stop digging. The guy even tails Dean around town (which he sucks at by the way. Dean notices him almost immediately).
His day is pretty boring; itâs at night when things get interesting. After Dean is sure heâs lost his tail, he goes back to finish his hunt. Only it turns out he didnât lose Ramiel, who somehow gets caught in the middle of the skirmish and nearly dies.
Nearly.
Dean comes to rescue because no matter how big a pain-in-the-ass Ramiel definitely doesnât deserve to go out like that. And, boy, is Ramiel grateful. Scared shitless, but grateful. And very, very confused.
Dean gives him a very to-the-point explanation. Sam is more obliging with the details. The surreality is a lot take in, but it certainly puts the court case in perspective for Ramiel and he finds himself siding with Dean more and more.
Additional thoughts: This is a really half-baked plot, but somehow Iâd like to work that Azrael, head of Ramielâs law firm, has connections in the supernatural community that Ramiel doesnât know about. But Dean somehow finds out and confronts him about it. Thereâs a lot of âI know better than youâ competitiveness that goes on.Â
Bonus: Ramiel is really thrown by how sweet Sam actually is. Heâs only ever seen him in the context of the courtroom and the guy is absolutely ruthless when it comes to law (and protecting his brother, of course).
Little Pomeranian from Hell isnât a huge fan of fire.
âYou canât draw dogsâ I told myself as I tried to design dogs.
I AM NOT DEAD - I forgot to change the auto message I AM SO SORRY FOR THE SCARE!
The morning after...
"Youâre welcome." He gave an amused huff as Jessie popped a whole slice into his mouth, not bothering to gently chide him for it. Instead he tucked into his own breakfast, nibbling on his apple slices between bites of porridge. And every so often, between the apple slices and porridge bites, heâd glance over at Dean with a less than subtle look of concern.
"Maybe just a bite," Dean muttered thoughtfully. Sure, he felt nocious and terrible and the smell of the food was more than a little overwhelming --- but he really should eat something. If he went to Tod's infirmary without having at least tried to eat he was going to get an earful. "Just a spoonful, that way Tod doesn't yell at me."
Jessie looked up at Dean, inching his plate away. He would share if he had to, but he was rather hungry and even giving up a spoonful sounded unappealing to the fledge.Â
tumblr friendships are hard to maintain like im sorry i know i havent talked to you in 5 months but youâre still super rad and i still consider us friends im just dumb
#if youâre wondering if this is for you #itâs probably for you