the feminine urge to abandon my jeans and convert to maxi skirts and dresses
Xuebing Du
Not today Justin
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YOU ARE THE REASON
Mike Driver

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Janaina Medeiros

tannertan36
Three Goblin Art
Jules of Nature
Peter Solarz
trying on a metaphor
Monterey Bay Aquarium
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
🪼
Stranger Things
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from Malaysia
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seen from T1

seen from Canada

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@eluisaint
the feminine urge to abandon my jeans and convert to maxi skirts and dresses
am i on my period or am i really fantasizing about kissing him on the forehead ???
“My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it. Watch me daily disappearing. For just one glimpse of his smile. All those nights you kept me going. Swirled you into all of my poems”
me when i have a crush on a questionable guy that my friends warn me about but the lovergirl in me just can't stop.
me: 'i'm so over my crush'
also me after a small interaction with THAT crush:
no, u don't understand, i miss my man ! i haven't met him yet but i miss him so much ! i miss his kisses and hugs already ! like when are you coming over ?! i miss my future lover oh my gosh
Writing Description Notes: Facial Expressions
Updated 26th May 2024 More description notes
Fear mounted his face.
She steeled her expression
A deep frown set into his muzzle.
He spoke softly, his brows drawn together in a sympathetic concern.
His eyes searched hers with a gentle concern.
A look of relief washed over his features.
Her eyebrows inched upward, as she looked upon him in stunned silence.
He searched Jane’s expression, but found not the slightest tinge of anger, resentment, or hatred.
His brow wrinkled by a deep frown.
The adamant expression and carefree grin that followed took the edge off her reservations and she pried deeper.
A thinly veiled warning hid behind her perfect pout and she was sure to flash it at the hero menacingly.
Her brows knitted together.
A broken expression laced his features.
In his facial expression was a tiredness, a need for nurture and a chance to rest.
John’s brows drew together gently, his expression accenting his confusion, softly encouraging her to continue.
Only a hint of a hesitation gracing her features.
His brows cured upwards and golden eyes glittered with worry.
Jane adopted an innocent look.
There was a measure of anxiety scrawled all over his face and she tried to ease it by holding his hand.
A soft laugh caught her off guard and she met John’s cynical expression with one of defiance.
She tried to solve the puzzle of emotions on his face.
John’s face fractured with sympathy
A gentle pout formed on her lips
A softness came over her features, replacing the glowing joy for a meaningful affection for such a devoted friend.
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Yes I want to write my story but my story doesn't want to be written so what the fuck am I supposed to do about that huh?
i guess i'm not out of the woods yet, the resurfacing pain and grief covered by longtime romanticization rips my chest open like a starving bear,it says, “what took you so long to feed me again?"
according to my note app, i wrote this on january 20
“You know what's wrong about you? You care too much about what people think. I don't even remember the last time you considered yours.”
An excerpt from a story I have yet to write.
“In front of my mother and my sisters, I pretend love is cheap and vulgar. I act like it’s a sin– I pretend that love is for women on a dark path. But at night i dream of a love so heavy it makes my spine throb.– I dream up a lover who makes love like he is separating salt from water.”
— Salma Deera, “salt” Â