Feb 3, 2018
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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
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    he´s falling. one moment he´s in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee to get the day started after a long night and the next thing he knows is the loss of gravity and the distinct feeling of   oh shit   as nausea overcomes him. with his eyes squeezed shut tony holds a desperate grip on his mug like that´s going to help him any as he continues to plummet ( or is he pulled ? ) until the sound of glass shattering pulls him back to reality and he´s standing again, as if nothing ever happened in the first place and for a blissful moment tony thinks this was all just a sleep deprived hallucination. like when you´re laying in bed half asleep only for your brain to freak out and give you half a heart attack. can that happen while standing up ?    tony opens his eyes hoping for the sight of his kitchen and F.R.I.D.A.Y gently chastising him for staying awake for so long again, only to be gravely disappointed and increasingly more alarmed when he sees broken glass everywhere in a room that most definitely isn´t anywhere near his kitchen. figures. he´s never that lucky. the rush of footsteps brings him to full alert, his hands already thrown up in defense and ready to throw the mug in his panic when he catches sight of a familiar (?) face
      ❝   what the                 strange ?  ❞Â
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
Okay this will most likely annoy all of you so feel free to unfollow, but I will be making text posts every day for the rest of the week to let this stupid website know that my account isn’t a bot. I’ve made several batches of icons and it won’t let me post any in the tag so this is what I might have to do. Feel free to unfollow or add “test text post” to your blacklist since I’ll be using that tag.
Test of Codepen for html Tag indication on wordpress com
Test of Codepen for html Tag indication on wordpress com
https://codepen.io/kichisaburo3/pen/oNYJZEV
See the Pen oNYJZEV by kichisaburo3 (kichisaburo3) on CodePen
just test text post by codepen iframe on android smartphone web browser
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This codepen is formed by iframe
This codepen seems to be NOT showed on Dashboard after login tumblr
This codepen showed as legacy post ( normal post ) both for Index Page and Permalink Page ( no needed login to tumblr )
This codepen is not showed on Google AMP Page ( due to amp-codepen is not added by tumblr saver side ? ? ? )
11 MAR 2019 Thursday
the loneliest macchiato.
her mornings begin before the sun has risen — eyes hazy and movements softened by lethargy. the hardwood floors feel cold against the soles of her feet and because camila leaves the lights off, the room is bathed in darkness. the young woman hasn’t altered very many things in her home in the past six years, so its easy to navigate without a light illuminating her path. on nights when she’s drunk one wine, camila humors herself, she likes to believe it’s because she just feels too much — so much so, that the woman can even feel the atoms that sit above her epidermis. but such a thought is fleeting — who is she to have such a gift? the cause of this is muscle memory and that alone; the ease with which she navigates in the dark is a product of a mind burdened with memory.
it’s when she reaches the bathroom that she turns on a light, only to hold her reflection’s gaze for a minute or two. camila doesn’t know what she’s looking for in those eyes, but each day she hopes for an answer. such is also the case when she looks at the stars.
a half an hour or so later she’s walking out of the bathroom, a fluffy towel wrapped around her torso and one in her hands as she towels her hair. the softness of the towels is a favorite sensation of hers, as she’s too often felt sharp and bitter things. lost in her thoughts, camila is quick to arrive at her bedroom, where she discards the towels and grabs the clothes she had laid out the night before. after a glance at the clock on her bedside table, she sees that she only has fifteen minutes left until she has to make her way to the cafe. once she’s dressed herself, there’s only six minutes left so camila grabs her essentials ( cellphone, keys, wallet ) and makes her way to the door.
making sure that her apartment is locked and secure, camila trots downstairs to the chiaro di luna.Â
she’s kept the cafe the same ( for the most part, with some eco-friendly alterations ) for the past six years: the space with it’s glossy cherry wood tables, and rattan chairs is comforting to many — the soft glow of the pendant lights and the large windows that provided a wonderful view of salem ( for those who like to people watche ) as well as the sun’s movements throughout the day ( for the early birds, stragglers and analemma enthusiasts ) have cemented the chiaro di luna as a town favorite and tourist attraction. its conception and rise to fame preceded camila, but it was now hers to maintain. the young woman turns the soft lights on, and goes about her day, preparing the cafe for the day. her employees don’t arrive until an hour after opening, but the space isn’t all too difficult to work with — she usually does this alone.
as she’s moving around the space, camila decides to make herself a drink...the first bit of caffeine of her morning. under the glow of the rising sun, camila sips on a macchiato and welcomes the day.Â