ITT: Describe the moment that you first saw her. any format, any style

She seems to be smiling back to me more often than to others . She wants my D. I'll just bang her and get it over with. It'll be fun. I'll probably just walk up to her one of these days and we'll exchange numbers so that we can occasionally have sex for the next month or two, and then we'll completely cut ties. Finally an older cutie. Finally no need for bullshit from pseud freshmen drama queen girls. Finally no need to shallowly act out fake romance, but rather let things grow at their own pace. Finally someone with whom I could just negotiate about things cold-headedly.
Wait, what if I'm not in her league? What if she doesn't want my D and it's all in my head? Holy shit she's cute. How do I go about approaching her? What words exactly do I say? Fuck.
...

>her

Ok now you post yours, and I'LL provide the quip!

this

(ignore the ellipsis, im accidentally)

She had a voice that could raise your heartbeat in three syllables. The meaning of her words was lost in their elegance of her intonation and I could do little more than smile dumbly. I was proud of my reaction, though. It could have been a lot worse. I did not want to glorify her. Nothing scared me more than becoming her next admirer, for doubtless she had hundreds. She was not solely mine to prize, and for this reason I did not prize her. I allowed myself to become infatuated by her beauty, but only for the appreciation of her beauty alone, which was not attached to any person or being that may act as the possessor of such beauty. She was a marvel of creation, and only God and the eternal waves of trial and error, thrown by the ceaseless tide of evolution and crashing upon the rocks of material substance could be responsible for the intricacy of such beauty. But not her. She was not responsible. She did not exist. 'She' was nothing more than the canvas upon which this beauty was drawn.

If I did not give her life she could have no hold over me. If she was not sentient then she would not be the source of any primal lust that my sway me. I could appreciate her as one appreciates a a pleasant melody, and though I may me moved I would not be compelled.

And then she spoke. And oh, her voice; it was a symphony.

Owch.

oh, wait... no, yeah.

owch.

Don't make these threads, whenever amateurs write about love it really brings out the worst in them.

She had skin like goose-bumped alabaster, and she walked out a code to me with a particular feminine charm.

What does it mean that you remember meeting me before I remember meeting you?

r8, h8 or appreci8

The hall I had entered was dimly lit and inquiet, buzzing with anticipation as it gradually filled with performers and their audience. She stood directly facing the entrance, reaching upwards to speak with a woman taller than herself. I had never made her acquaintance but I recognised her. She was the sister of a musician and athlete, a friend of my brother's who I held in high esteem. She bore his sea-eyes and his over-present nose but her general manner was softer and more playful.

I studied her like a sailor with a map. I Watched her hair fall softly over her rolling shoulders and followed her form as it flowed gently to the floor. I was smitten.

I lost sight of her until she gingerly stepped on stage in her brother's wake, playing with the ends of her sleeves and tapping at nothing with her feet. He picked the guitar and they sang in a simple harmony, thirds apart. She sang with the voice of a fiddler's bow, gentle, low and slowly as it rolls over the catgut strings and sets the whole body to humming.

When she had finished her piece ad given way to the next act I manoeuvred towards her ducking in and out of conversations with mutual friends until I found my opportunity.

"You sounded fantastic" I said, or something equally banal.

"Thanks!" she replied, with a smile that would shatter glass, and she turned, and she left.

Good and Emotive. The phrases "season of autumn" and "book of my life" are a bit clumsy I think, but the metaphors are solid and it gave me a nice feeling to read it. It's really hard to give these things out of 10 ratings that are fair or consistent so I'm just going to roll with 7/10 because I like it.

nice imagery but there's some vocabulary that's a bit awkward. Over all a bit less tight than the one above so I'll say 6. Again this rating shit is completely wishy washy.

I like the straight-forwardness and informality but some of the sentences are a bit weird. 5

Her face was saran-wrap on M&M's. She looked like she was trying to smile at her friend the way that one tries to run in their dreams. She was too far away from me to make out her face and whether or not she was really interested in what was going on. She was another one of those people that could sit directly across from me and never feel the need to look at me. I couldn't get nervous about spying on her because she never noticed me.

I am a very straight man.

I like dicks though. I'm not gay, it's just a fetish.

She, for lack of a better word [1], had a dick.

No one has to know.

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[1] You might just say "use he, that's a better word." I already told you I'm not gay; I'm not going to use "he" when describing my "her."

I almost got on the bus, but she had just gotten off and I didn't have anywhere to be, really. She touched the sidewalk for just an instant, throwing her hair up to fly in the wind, but she floated towards me. As we spoke, I imprinted on her face, the brown, stoplight eyes and soft jaw, the black with brown undertones island-girl hair that still turns my head when I see it on someone else.

I like some things and dislike some things. I dont like the word 'inquiet', i think it just feels silly, and i dont like 'sea-eyes', I think there are much better ways to describe eyes that look like the sea. The bit about the fiddlers bow was nice, and in general it paints a picture of someone that feels very 'real'. Using your rating scheme I'd give a light 6.

Care to rate mine? Five posts above yours.

top shelf bant

Saw who?

...

fuck you, I am not going to bring up that fucking red jacket fuck you fuck you fuck you

Blonde, blue eyed and with features that begot her the appearance of an intelligent, grumpy bunny. Sitting away from me -yonder far-, reading text messages that contained, doubt it naught, messages from God, telling her what she ought. Green translucent tights and a grey skirt, a scarved neck and a velvet blue jacket. Glasses black in her round face --the most stylish of them all-- in this Bus, were horrendous rubble and noisy wheels, and no art in people's faces a sculptor's tools could peel, was all i could see.

The autistic tall model had to leave, for the bus had flown o'er the skies, and now was in heaven. My head in pain, knowingly adapting itself beforehand to the lack of 'her'. The fresco of her beauty was gone, now all i saw was vulgar misery and heard the wheels maddening noise. I wasn't maddened however, for when i was to leave the bus --in a not very distant future-- i knew nothing better would come. Walked out: traffic, hideous faces, the heat of the sun against my dry skin; another place, another pointless walk going nowhere.

Beneath the green grass i lay, she was beautiful, like a daisy, her hair was gold her eyes too. She smelt beautiful, wait no... she WAS beautiful...

fucking terrible what the hell

did you write this with a dildo up your ass?

9/10 pretty good

>wait no... she WAS beautiful...

virgin tier but also accurate

YA tier

Veeky Forums tier

r/redpill tier

well done

wtf
kys

It's my favourite one so far. The prose in the first paragraph has a good momentum which I find incredibly difficult to do. The word "though" in the third sentence is jarring for some reason I can't explain, and the "She was a marvel of creation" sentence isn't ideal, the concept it good but I think there could be a more impacting way of saying it.. The tone is a bit formal which may or may not be deliberate. Overall I think it's great, 7.5/10

Thanks for your critique, I just started writing prose and it work differently to songwriting, which I'm more comfortable with.

interesting

kek/10

Is bloom wearing M50xs?

I walked down the long path to the

entrance, heaved the doors open and walked over to the reception where I was met

by a young woman. She was the picture of youthful exuberance, with her brazen blonde

hair and keen blue eyes. Inside those blue eyes burned a ferocious fire that - like all things - would inevitably be extinguished by the solemnity of old age.

yo can I get that Dave face without the just plz thnx

>interesting
I really do wonder about that, she never told me about the first time we met according to her.

And I probably won't find out either because I haven't spoken to her since I told her I loved her, then she left me for someone else.

it would be good if you had writen it 200 years ago, now the VIRGO-COLLIGE-ROSA thing has really been overdone far too many times to really impress anyone.

I don't know what that means but okay:)

She had pukey hair that she kept pushing her hands into, and was sinking through that kind of wet leather couch that was suctioned to each wall. We were at the tour bus station "together". She looked over at me and got irritated. I got up and approached her, positioning myself so that if she tried to run she would run into me. I couldn't hear her heart beating in her chest so I didn't know if she was anxious or not. She curled her hands in her lap and stuck her bottom lip up to her nose, blowing into her hair.

"Are you irritated with me?" I asked her as soon as I got within hearing range. She stopped blowing over her face and appeared to stop breathing while she thought.

"That's a yes, right?"

she left me... but she never left my heart. forever i think of her, and forever i am in pain. not physical pain... heart pain. pain that comes from the deepest of my heart. i wish to see her again, but i will never because love is like a bird, ot flys away when i try to catch it

She was like a song, without the lyrics, just the melody.

Please tell me this is ironic.

i dont know what that means but thanks i guess lol

We touch, i feel a rush, we clutch, it isn't much but it's enough to make me wonder what's in store for us. It's lush... it's torturous. You must be a sorceress 'cause you just did the impossible gained my trust...

JUST GONNA STAND THERE AND WATCH ME BURN, BUT IT'S ALL RIGHT BECAUSE I LIKE THE WAY IT HURTS