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Why, here you go, my lord, a fresh bottle of water. Oh no need to thank me, my lord, the only thanks I, your humble advisor, needs is to enjoy the pleasure of your wetted lips. Yes, my lord, drink up—

Once again thinking of her, one of the Hesperides in Botticelli's Primavera

Rosemary boosted

@honeybrew_coffee well the femme def has to be the one who is splendorous radiance of light. i think the futch would be the one to have the ability too hold the duplicity of fortune. and the butch bringing abundance hard work and dedication

Rosemary boosted

I'm 54 and have just succumbed to my inner teenager by measuring my erect penis using the spaghetti measurer. I'm almost four servings.

Great are my sorceries, magnificent is my power, it flows through my veins and my body, it is alarmingly itchy

It is a shame I cannot use fell omens and foul portents as an excuse to call out of work

Butches
*Melts into a puddle of butchly affection*

Rosemary boosted

Cast out of heaven before admittance
I found you beside the river.
There I learned heaven is not above us,
but the work of love on this earth.

Your fingers dipped in shimmering gold
split a trail down my swollen lips.
Red runs over radiant knuckles
and my chin remains held.

archiveofourown.org/works/6136

Lt. Commander Mag Zilber shares in the time honored Starfleet tradition of ship's engineers loving the age of sail. She invites the much older (but new) Romulan officer, Ensign Setak, to the holodeck to experience a part of human history. But it doesn't take long for the two of them to get distracted and the game changes—

U.S.S. T'riall Season 1 Episode 3: Laugh'd to See the Sails Conceived

What does a materialist need mysticism for?

I don't have a good answer for you; however, while describing the interactions of clouds of particles can be beautiful in its own right, I can't help but get lost in the sublime when faced with a golden sunrise or the laughter of an infant when they discover something new. I cannot help making chicken soup as a potion of good health or saying a prayer in the face of agony. Maybe there's no material soul but the universe sees itself through our eyes.

One of these nights I'll get some real sleep, it's coming, I will it so.

Every day I wake up filled to the brim with ideas, every night I fall asleep overflowing. Isn't it neat that the universe has clouds of atoms that look back at itself and plays with what it could be?

Let it be ugly let it be weird and by heaven let it be unpalatable to the market

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Computer Fairies

Computer Fairies is a Mastodon instance that aims to be as queer, friendly and furry as possible. We welcome all kinds of computer fairies!