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I don't know if anyone will ever see this but I just submitted a kind of open/love letter to this blog, which formed a large part of my teens, just instead of breaking it into 1000 asks. The TL;DR is that I've spent the past few days reading through this blog in its entirety & god, I miss this community. All the kind words I came across have made me want to write again for the first time in years. And I hope everyone - all the mods, writers, and readers - is doing good 💖 ~DandelionBurdockGirl
Hey, so it turns out Tumblr just pretends you can send asks over 250 characters in-app - which I realised after writing this whole speech. So instead of sending a dozen messages, I'm submitting my piece this way, if that's okay. I just wanted to say I’ve spent the past couple days working my way through this blog in its entirety (or near enough as I can). Rereading some old favourites, discovering some ones that passed me by the first time round and generally revelling in the nostalgia of feeling 17 again. Back then, I used to check this blog like the morning paper and write/fantastise about Alex instead of doing actual work in the library (some things never change, I guess.)
Initially it was all purely for my own narcissism because I was trying to find one particular kind comment I remembered someone once left about my writing many years ago - but I was blown away by just how many other lovely/supportive comments I found along the way, from people who simply took the time to be kind. Not just towards me (although all those kind words did, and still do, mean a great deal to me) but towards every writer and each other. This place was such a little community for so long and god, I don't half miss it sometimes. 💖
It's also reminded me how much work and drama the mods have had to deal with over the years and you all definitely didn't deserve the level of abuse they got. (To Miranda, should she ever see this, you in particular got put through the wringer on here and I feel terrible for not sticking up for you as much as I should have, when I should have.) Although I remember feeling Dead Sea-levels of salty about having the fic/smut I'd invested so much in get deleted from here as a teen, with adult eyes I only have absolute respect for all the rules you guys put in place, in the hopes of preventing younger girls normalising things that are never okay. To make it as safe a space as you could for everyone. 💕
I hope with all my heart that all the mods, past and present, are all doing well. That some of our budding authors did keep writing. That some of you readers kept on being kind. 💕 Myself, I haven't written just for fun in about 5 years (my degree and depression kinda stole my hobbies) but all this has reminded me why I loved it so much and I am heavily considering getting back into it (because rereading old stories and drafts, I'm learning I wasn’t quite as bad as I let myself believe). Maybe one day I'll actually update/finish at least one of my fics. 😅
You’ve probably learned not to hold your breath there when it comes to my updates. But I still wanted to thank everyone who ever commented, liked or even just read my work over the years – and anyone who shared theirs in return. I truly never did stop thinking about some of the stories on here over the years. And if you mods ever do want/need someone new to pick up the torch for this place, just let me know. Because I am still here 💖 ~DandelionBurdockGirl (off anon, for once) ✨
(PS fun fact: this blog has 1088 pages in total, as of March 2021. :P)
title inspired by the stunning florence+the machine song.
A blanket of smog settled over the grass, smothering the street lighting, but compromising its heavy darkness for a dull haze. The damp emanating from the mist could be smelt before its wetness was felt on the crisp grass. Such were the sights that 2:00 am offered; cold, nostalgic of the exhilaration it once unleashed, of mornings burnt in the promise of novelty. Now, instead, you’re walking back to your room, books under your arm, shawl wrapped tightly across your chest, wondering how you could forget to pack a sweater for the fifth consecutive day, she thought to herself. Tiredness, she had to spare by the bucket, but the dread fear of missing out had lost its grip on her, leaving room only for industriousness and a longing for comfort, ease.
And ease was not what she had had with him. Not towards the end. But winter had its way of turning to the warmth of memory. Warm were his voice, his eyes. She thinks back to what she had read today. What had the theorist said?
“Let’s face it. We’re undone by each other.”
Undone. No, she wasn’t undone. She was trying to overcome, but everything undermined her valiant attempts. The moon looked bigger, the trees and their shadows trailed her where she went, and every little part of this damned season had etched into its minutiae, memories that were as suffocating as they were gentle. Some stupid undergrad student played some stupid song that had a chord progression that sounded just like his stupid song, but worse, because, let’s face it, who else could write like him? Why did that particular combination of melodies and words accost her unawares, no matter how remote they were to the situation, making her feel so much, too much? Who had made her feel like that? And all this romance novel nonsense was more frustrating because of the knee-jerk reaction to spurn it, to send it packing, but isn’t that what all young-adults did these days? “Oh, I’m not that kind of girl…” Oh but you are, we all are, and are all the worse for it. None the less embarrassed by it, by this dependence, longing, that came out of nowhere. One day she was fine, the next, a tune would float into her head, and she would unravel, a soliloquizing mess. And no one would have appreciated it more than him. No one could have come to terms with the potential for pathos in such a moment, and what’s more, realize it, so that some day, it might be something people across the world could sing along to.
He was somewhere far. Maybe somewhere sunny. She hoped it was sunny, he deserved none of the sympathetic mourning the weather was doing on her behalf. The smog wrapped her tight in its arms, its mellow embrace indulging in all the misery she shunned.
She was overcome by him—sharing that stale beer on the highway, the bottle that had touched his lips first, the cold air drawing from his pale face a blush as scandalous as what he whispered in her ear seconds ago. The waiting, god, the waiting on the bed, the strange music in the background, waiting for some cue to let her know she can indulge those quick glances that he chanced down at her lips. What is the polite amount to let pass before she can reach for him? To sit so close, to practically be able to hear him think, feel the want, imagine the heat of skin radiating from just beneath that leather jacket. But don’t rush it, don’t do something you’ll regret, she remembers her mind whispering.
Well it’s too late for that now, she thinks. All she has left is some guitar picks he left lying around. Left lying around like all the different memories that just cannot mind their own business.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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here is my new url !! i hope everyone that sees this is doing well! hopefully some of y’all grabbed tickets to see the boys (if they are coming to your city!) im off to see them v soon here in nz!
hiya, how do i follow the mods' blogs? the links on the navigation page don't work! hope y'all are doing good!
Oh uhh charlie changed her url i think and i cant remember what it is atm, but im @mon0-tonia (aesthetic blog) or @singaboutmebykendricklamar (fun meme n textpost blog)
Hi! Submitted (or attempted to submit) a thing called queen of peace. When you get time, let me know if you got it, dear blog-runners. Another question: are you excited for Halloween?
Haha.. yea i was excited for halloween i was a forest nymph! What were u guys? We did get ur submission i promise
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming