The Women Of America Were Once Promised That Butch Dykes Would Be Lurking In All Corners Of Society,

what i’m ordering

,,Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?" Yeah man, being the daughter

“look at that fucking arch. fuck, you’re such a whore for this dick.”

and it’s just fucking ex!vi in front of a mirror

That ADHD feel when you’re editing a text and you accidentally some of type the words out of order

i still can’t believe this incredible show ended with such a twist. what a great finale and what an intense and amazing scene, so sad we will never see what happens next :(

Sevika when she’s having a bad day.

⋮ ⌗ ┆BUT IT'S WARMER IN YOUR ARMS ּ ֶָ֢.

Happy ones tonight 'Cause it's warm ('cause it's warm) In your arms

The door shuts softly behind her.

No slamming. No grumbling. Just the soft click of tiredness. You hear the sound of her boots being kicked off, the low groan as she shrugs off her coat, and then her footsteps—heavy, slow—moving toward you like gravity is tugging at her bones.

You’re curled up on the couch with an old book of recipes that once belonged to your mom in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. It’s warm, gentle, quiet.

Until she drops onto you like a boulder. All strength and sighs and the kind of exhaustion only Sevika knows how to carry.

You set the book aside without a word. Your tea too. Her head finds its way to your chest, resting right in the middle like it belongs there—because it does. You feel her breathing, steadying against you.

Your fingers slip into her hair, slow and gentle, nails scraping softly against her scalp. She melts under your touch, that hardened tension she carries everywhere uncoiling piece by piece.

Nothing needs to be said. You know she’ll tell you later, maybe. Or maybe not. Some days, she just needs this—your skin, your heartbeat, your hands in her hair.

Eventually, with a kiss to her forehead and a promise of warmth, you nudge her toward the bathroom. The bath is already ready—steam curling in the air, water just how she likes it. She presses a kiss to your cheek before disappearing inside, stripped down to just skin and weariness.

While she bathes, you warm up the food you saved her. It’s simple, hearty. You plate it carefully, setting it on the table just in time for her to emerge—clean, warm, her hair still damp and around her face.

She eats fast. Not like she’s starving, but like she’s eager. Like every bite gets her one second closer to being back in your arms. You watch her with a small smile, heart quietly blooming. And once the plate is cleared, she returns to you.

Curling up on the couch with you again, her arm thrown over your waist, her face tucked in close. She exhales. This time it’s not weary. It’s peaceful.

You press your lips to her temple, and she hums low in her throat. Content.

No words needed. Just the warmth of home, Just the quiet love you hold her with.

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mutuals reblogging my posts like "me and who". me and you. cmere

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.