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The Dumb Ways To (Almost) Die collab is starting to publish the 31th of August !
But what is that you may ask ? Well, rouglty it's an excuse to write all the times Stan nearly died (sometimes in dumb ways, sometimes not) ! The intro is already published, go check it out !
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Rambles under the cut !
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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“Self hatred? In my me?”
It’s more likely than you think.
-`♡´- “ Im going to get out of my comfort zone with this but at the same time I dont want to bc I don't think id portray it right which is a weird thing to say bc I also do this BUT I DON'T DO IT THE WAY OTHER PEOPLE DO IT THEREFORE IT'S WRROKNGGGG ”
anyway this is the point i've reached in studying for my exam tomorrow
and i hate to say, it did in fact work
I cannot remember lyrics for the life of me so I just use whatever words come to mind
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i think my favourite bio that i’ve ever written for myself was just a single line that said i “write poems that make you think she loves the subject more than she does”
i really appreciate her secret fanclub has girls in it
and also the only one with heart eyes is a girl
a+ very gay
Here’s something most people don’t know. I spent years more bird than girl. Ruffled at any unexpected touch. Flinching at loud sounds. Staring at the sky on bus rides, out classroom windows, dreaming of flight. No airplanes for me, oh no. I wove a word world of post-modern angels, wrote so reckless I smeared the side of my hand with ink, walked the halls stained by my daydreams. But when I closed my notebook, took my eyes off the clouds, I was once again featherless. Tattered Allstars heavy on the concrete, bars of hard reality around me.
Fast forward. I meet a boy who sits in trees just because he feels freer there. Who scales walls for the focus of a challenge and the satisfaction of going farther. Who says being up high feels like breathing. Who wants to sky dive, climb cliffs, leap from buildings. Watches driving rain, and lightning storms, and me, with a hungry intensity. Anything for that rush.
I call him an adrenaline junkie, but the truth is he’s also in love with flight and lacking wings. I’d give him all the feathers I find if it would give him what he longs for. But for the first time I want something more than freedom. When he holds me, I feel more girl than bird. I whisper: You make me feel safe. You make me feel free. And he whispers back: I don’t want to let go.
