History-addicted law student who runs on coffee & television shows.
OUR DREAMS ARE ANSWERED
|Ending with 8?|
8: Honestly, has anyone seen you in your underwear in the past 3 months?
18: Hold hands with anyone this week?
28: What is something you currently want right now?
I would say go home, but my family isn’t even at the house right now (let alone in the state), so that wouldn’t work.
Maybe a Dr. Pepper?
38: Love really is a beautiful thing huh?
Let me tell you about love. It fucking sucks. You meet someone and they make you feel like your soul is literally on fire. You’re alive, and everything is wonderful, and all you want to do is be with them. And then they hurt you for the first time because they’re human and humans just hurt each other. It’s how we’re wired. But because you love them, it hurts more than any other kind of hurt. You still love them though, so sometimes you put up with things you wouldn’t otherwise because the idea of being without them makes your heart race in the bad way and makes you sick to your stomach.
And you’ll hurt them too and realize that them hurting you isn’t nearly as painful as this. The fear about losing them becomes worse in those moments.
Sometimes you actually do lose the one you love, and it feels like the world is over. You’re emotional wreck, and it sucks.
…on the other hand, Emma Swan is the product of true love, and she is fucking gorgeous. So, if we decide that Emma Swan is the embodiment of love, then yeah, love is beautiful thing.
48: Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone?
Right now, it’s summer, so alone. But when it’s fucking cold in the middle of January, I will certainly take someone else.
|ends in 3?|
3: What if I told you that you were pretty?
I’d probably blush, and then find some way to make a joke about how today was the exception and that I usually look like a hot mess
13: Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette?
Easily. I’ve never really understood the whole cigarettes thing
23: Have you ever been to Paris?
YES. I went on a Europe trip and was going to hit London, Paris, and Rome, and I was least excited about Paris and then I fell in love with the city and now I want to go back and learn French and never leave.
33: What do people call you?
Lynn. Unless I’m in a suit. Then lots of people call me ma’am. I don’t like when that happens.
43: Have you ever regretted kissing someone?
I’d like to refer you to my sophomore year of college
But seriously, this is super sweet. Thanks, anon!
3/10 Favourite pairings: Luce and Rachel
“The lily means… The lily means I dare you to love me.”
Lena Headey everyone. I adore this woman. She is fucking perfect.
Thank you so much! <3
My respect for her has increased x1000000000000000000000000.
When the beautiful young man drowned—
accidentally, swimming at dawn
in a current too swift for him,
or obedient to some cult
of total immersion that promised
the bather would come up divine,
mortality rinsed from him—
Hadrian placed his image everywhere,
a marble Antinoüs staring across
the public squares where a few dogs
always scuffled, planted
in every squalid little crossroads
at the furthest corners of the Empire.
What do we want in any body
but the world? And if the lover’s
inimitable form was nowhere,
then he would find it everywhere,
though the boy became simply more dead
as the sculptors embodied him.
Wherever Hadrian might travel,
the beloved figure would be there
first: the turn of his shoulders,
the exact marble nipples,
the drowned face not really lost
to the Nile—which has no appetite,
merely takes in anything
without judgment or expectation—
but lost into its own multiplication,
an artifice rubbed with oils and acid
so that the skin might shine.
Which of these did I love?
Here is his hair, here his hair
again. Here the chiseled liquid waist
I hold because I cannot hold it.
If only one of you, he might have said
to any of the thousand marble boys anywhere,
would speak. Or the statues might have been enough,
the drowned boy blurred as much by memory
as by water, molded toward an essential,
remote ideal. Longing, of course,
become its own object, the way
that desire can make anything into a god.
The Death of Antinoüs, Mark Doty. (via the-library-and-step-on-it) —