WHY

look at me. listen. you need to take that six foot something transfem and you need to lay her on your chest and stroke her hair gently and rub her back and hold her tight like a beloved stuffed animal. do you understand me. you need to hold the tall girls in your life like you would anyone else. LISTEN to me

They made divorce so expensive because they knew ppl would do it for kink reasons

Me & my man getting our bi-yearly divorce so we can yell accusations at each other & then have a hot passionate extramarital affair for about 3 days before we re-marry

May I introduce you to my 23rd husband? (it's been the same guy 23 times)

fuck sex these bitches need a deep, LONG ASS hug where they don’t let go for a while and just soak into each other’s arms like the other’s heartbeat is their oxygen they so desperately need as they bawl their eyes out

youve heard of missionary position. now get ready for MERCENARY position

i think it's so so so great that beating someone up can actually injure and scar you. like from a symbolic perspective. every act of violence leaves a mark on you, chipping away at you with each blow until you're nothing but hard muscle and sharp edges. the hurt you visit on others shapes you in its image.

THEY KEEP ASKING ME IF I WOULD DIE FOR THEM AND I KEEP ASKING WHY THEY WANT ME DEAD

job interviews

stabbing as a metaphor for penetration is great but when are we going to talk about pressing down on where someone is wounded to disarm them or just to be cruel while fighting. does nobody else care about the perverse intimacy of knowing exactly where to touch to overpower someone. the grotesque vulnerability of it. especially if you're the one who wounded them in the first place.

i want the small but significant things. the goodbye and hello kisses, knowing how they like their tea/ coffee, taking care of them when they’re sick, „i got that thing you mentioned“, falling asleep in each other’s arms and them being the first thing you see when you wake up, lazily making out, being a shoulder to cry on, cooking together and for each other, making memories together … sharing our lives until we can’t tell where one ends and the other begins