Germancest my beloved

*lying in bed next to a corpse of someone i loved and stroking its hair in a way that makes you hesitant to point it out to me, either because i haven't realised yet and you'd be forcing me to confront a level of grief that you're not sure you can handle, or because i might smile calmly and tell you that i already know and you're not prepared to deal with that either*

listen if no one else writes this im gonna have to do it and the problem with me having to do it is that im gonna have to do it. 

i like when fiction treats love as a more complicated force and not something that is inherently pure or redemptive. portray it as flawed and complex as any other human impulse. give me love as prejudice, love as possessive stasis, love as addiction, love as blindness, etc.

at that, i find it disingenuous to frame it as “if the person hurt you they could not have loved you. that is not love.” just not a productive definition of the word to me

I love twincest where the twins are just so close they might as well be one person.

wound dressings and bandages are lingerie for the enlightened pervert