hi i think i'm in love with you
I think I am too
YOU ARE THE REASON

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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trying on a metaphor
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@mokdadz
hi i think i'm in love with you
I think I am too

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august
"... but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for."
- richard siken, crush
September Prompts đť
Word prompts to use for doodling or writing
coffee smell
horizon
foggy mornings
juke box
lighthouse
bonfire
recipe book
windmill
gas station
wildflowers
bookmark
cave explorations
rosebushes
pine cones
nightlight
rocking chair
hitchhiking
lemon tree
vintage dress
bike ride
art museum
ghost town
blackberries
harvest moon
picture frames
dreamers
flower garland
ring bearer
color change
nightgown

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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âThe scariest moment is always just before you start.â
â Stephen King
And all at once, summer collapsed into fall.
Pelin Cesur on Instagram / Etsy
You can decorate absence however you want â but you're still gonna feel what's missing.
â Siobhan Vivian
âGreat is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.â
â Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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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I. M. Panayotopoulos, tr. by Kimon Friar, from Modern Greek Poetry; âThe Worldâs Window,â
"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world. "
- Oscar Wilde, 1888
âHow wonderful it is to be silent with someone.â
â Kurt Tucholsky
âNothing haunts us like the things we donât say.â
â Mitch Albom

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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there are guys in my dorm who decided to play cards in the elevator
see what intrigues me about college isnât the intellectual pursuit or the bonding or whatever, its the fact that people have the freedom to do random shit like this
Okay, everybody, I have a story about random shit in college. When I was in college, there was a particular class I took where, no matter what time you walked into class, if you made it into the room before the professor, you wouldnât be counted late. I mean, thatâs a pretty cool policy, given how some professors are really obnoxious about attendance.Â
Well, one time, a fellow student of mine was running late to class. As she reached the edge of the building, she saw her professor making it to the front steps (super long rectangular building here). He looks up from walking and he sees her. He then points to his watch, gives her a well-meaning âLook whoâs lateâ face, and walks on inside.
What he didnât know, though, was that this particular student was like freakishly good at bouldering and related climbing skills, so she was just like âFuck itâ and SCALED THE BUILDING!
She tapped on the window of the 4th floor classroom (the floors had like 20ft ceilings, so, she was quite a ways up there), nearly making one student piss himself. They opened the window, she rolled through, onto the floor, and slid into her seat about five seconds before the professor opened the door to the classroom.Â
He did a double take, started to say âHow the hell dââ when a security guard ran in, red-faced and panting, pointed at her and bellowed âSTOP DOING THAT!â
omfg the amount of fucks college kids donât give astounds me
IVE ONLY SEEN THIS POST IN SCREENSHOTS
I LOVE THE IMPLICATION THAT THIS STUDENT HAS A REPUTATION FOR SCALING THE BUILDINGS
I have only ever seen the screenshots this is what if feels like to be a cool kid
Bruh đđđ
Apolloâs Descent
a very rough draft I did for a class assignment. Based off this post which @twinheroes tagged me in. The assignment was to read a short story by a writer we like and note their craft technique and mimic it in our own story. I used Anne Carson and her use of poetic language, no dialogue, present tense, and short sentences. Because I donât do any of that in my own writing, so I figured Iâd try to push myself.Â
 Itâs a dangerous thing, the heat of the sun. Sweltering until it makes a man mad. Itâs a dangerous thing, falling in love. Pounding through each pore until it makes a man mad.Â
Apollo watches the young man. The soft underside of his feet indenting the earth. Icarus paces around his fatherâs mind, eyes glancing up to catch the sunlight. Apollo gladly gives it. As Daedalus sleeps, the sun god manifests near them. Waits for the mortal to sense him. Iâve felt you, he says without turning. In the warm caress of the light, he continues in a voice that nearly brings Apollo to his knees. Iâve waited for you. Then finally his eyes, more ethereal than any godâs, meet his own. The smile that teases his lips tug Apollo closer. Since when does a mortal render a god speechless?Â
Thatâs how the god of the sun came to love the earth. Icarus embodies it. Embodies what home should be. Each sienna ringlet on his head. Each blink of his earth colored eyes. The warm brown of his sun-kissed skin. Like he was made for Apollo to worship.Â
Day after day. The tar and feather wings were almost ready. With them, their escape. With their escape, the end of them.Â
Take me with you, Icarus demands. The certainty in his voice leaves no room for Apollo to say no. As if he would have. Weâll have to plan it, Apollo says. He looks at the sleeping old man. He wonât let you go so easily.Â
Apollo warns him. Warns Icarus of the descent. A descent into a possible death, into madness, into love, into his arms. Youâll catch me, is all he responds. With a smile that beams brighter than Apollo ever could. Apollo nods and kisses his cheek. I will catch you.Â
He watches. He watches them fasten the wings to their backs. Watches father and son take flight. He watches his lover reach for him. Each beat of Icarusâ wings are a proclamation of love. The old inventor screams his warning. They fall to deaf ears. Apollo reaches for Icarus. He burns the feathers away. The closer they get, the more destruction. Singed feathers float in the wind. Hardened tar melts. Wings cry over the sea. Just before they can touch, Icarus falls. His hands still reach. A scream echoes with the wind.Â
Apollo paces the beach. Sees those eyes glinting gold. Apollo, he says. And it sounds like music. Icarus, Apollo replies, and it feels like home.