adelaide dubois

i could never be american because whenever I get a big drink I'm like oh great now I have to drink this big drink. i have to take care of this big drink they gave me. everything is terrible in the world

too many upset americans in the notes of this post. why don't you come over and take care of that big ass drink for me then. why don't you carry it around for me. you must've built up a lot of muscle dragging those drinks around every day. why don't you help me drink it since you're oh so experienced at drinking big drinks. two straws. one cup. why don't you tenderly look into my eyes over the styrofoam rim. we could share a moment and a drink together, feel the intimacy of experiencing the same thing at the same time. at the end of the day my opinion on big drinks will have shifted. it's not the sugar on my lips that changed my mind. i love you but I'll never say. you mistake my fear for indifference and we break each other's hearts. I'm resentful towards big drinks again but it's for a far more complicated reason than just my being European. not that anyone would ever notice the difference. well, except for you, I suppose. funny to think that the only person who knows that about me is a complete stranger. who said that

Before I heal does anyone like emotionally unavailable women

she has that sadness in her eyes that you only see in alcoholic captains of doomed arctic expeditions

this wound needs more salt

i’m so much more than just a hater. i’m also a lesbian. 

shoutout to the woman from my high school martial arts class who liked to get me in joint locks and then joke about how I was easy to catch. you cannot comprehend how psychosexually formative that was for me

imagine, if you will, having an adolescent half-crush on someone way older than you, which is also confusingly blurred up with admiration of them as a role model. now imagine that you and that person are in a social environment where it is acceptable to (platonically, consensually) choke someone. I think I was very normal about it considering the circumstances

she would demonstrate takedowns on her husband (also in the class, and who was not a small man) before we got to try them and the first time I saw her twist him around and down onto the floor like it was easy my entire abdomen clenched

I cannot stress enough how eager this guy was to be manhandled (womanhandled?) and flipped around by his wife. he was her de facto guinea pig whenever she got to teach and I never saw him unenthusiastic about it. he'd set himself up for a joint lock fully smiling. the other adults in the class occasionally teased him about it (being so quick to let your wife put you in a submission hold tends to raise a few eyebrows), and I always kind of wanted to defend him but what would I have said? like, don't worry. I won't judge you. I also like being pinned down by your wife

That last sentance really hits ya like a psychosexually formative takedown

UPDATE: The girls are NOT fighting. But they're also not having sex. In fact I'm not sure what they're doing but it seems to involve a blowtorch.

Moaning is SO ATTRACTIVE??? i don’t care if you’re male, female, whine in my ear and im soaked.

kill 'character did nothing wrong'. nurture 'character did everything wrong and i was whooping and cheering the whole time'

sexual knifeplay is indicative of weak character. I could never get aroused from being stabbed because that would mean that I failed to parry it