m: tw

i have thought a lot about censorship and what is “appropriate”. not a lot of people know this, but lolita was written to show what we allow on our bookshelves: there being no swear words in it meant it was free from censorship. a book about child molestation was allowed because it didn’t explicitly use the word “fuck”. he wrote it to show we don’t really care about protecting children, and it ended up being seen as a romance.

someone once told me - actually, many people have - that lgbt content isn’t appropriate for children. any content. not just kissing. i’m drowned in questions: “won’t the parents have to explain it?” “kids shouldn’t be thinking about sex at this age, or do you think differently?” “what will the kids think?”

at six i saw disney movies. people kiss and get married. i didn’t ask “what does that mean.” i didn’t ask “are those people going to have sex?” i didn’t ask anything, because i was six, and no six year old thinks twice about these things. nobody ever “explained” being straight to me, it was a fact, and it existed, and i was fine with that. why would being gay require a thesis, i wonder.

someone once told me that the one of the reasons people hate lgbt individuals is because they can’t see us as anything but sexual. we’re not people, so much as sinners. that they don’t see love, they see sex. just sex. it’s perversion, not a matter of the heart. only of the body.

i think i was in my early twenties before i saw someone like me. 

how old were you, though, before you saw violence? before you saw sexual assault on tv? i think something like that is only pg-13, and if it’s implied, they can get away with anything. i remember watching things and learning about blood, but knowing sex - sex was what was really wrong. sex was always rated r. sex was always kind of a bad word. i was told a lot that i wasn’t ready.

i had a dream last night that i made a site where people could ask any question they wanted about sex and get answered by a professional. it was shut down in moments because 15 year olds wanted to know if it should hurt, if “double-bagging” was a real thing, if this, if that. we shudder. don’t let the children know about that! 

but at thirteen i had seen enough violence it no longer struck me. i couldn’t say “fuck” but i knew that if you break your femur, you can bleed out internally in under half an hour. in school i wasn’t allowed to write about loving girls because what would the administration think - but i could write about wanting to kill myself and people would say how lovely, how blistering.

i have thought a lot about censorship. sometimes people on this site try it with me: don’t write this, don’t be so nasty. some of it is intrinsic. we know as people with a uterus not to complain about “that time of the month”, we know better than to talk about sexual assault (how shameful), we know that talking about a vagina is somehow scandalous. i can say “dick” and nobody questions me. some people only refer to the bottom half of me by “pussy”. they won’t wrap a mouth around “vagina” like it’s poison to them. even discussing this, that the language halts, that there’s an intrinsic desire to say “girls” instead of “women” - feels naughty, illicit. not for children.

the other day someone suggested i make my blog 18+. i said, okay, it deals a lot with depression and other problems that might be for a mature audience. oh no, they said, that’s not it, i think that’s helpful. i said, okay. so what is it then. well, you’re gay. you write about loving women. and i said, i don’t write about sex often and they said. it’s not about the sex. but wlw isn’t for a general audience. teenagers aren’t ready.


lolita is recommended for high school and up. i think about that a lot. i know girls who love it, who say it speaks to them on a deep level. it’s beautiful prose, after all. that was the whole point of the novel. something that looked like a rose but was intrinsically awful. i think about how if i was a model they’d want me to look young, thin, prepubescent. how my body would be sold and how through the mall i walk by images of barely-clothed women while mothers cannot breastfeed in public without fear of retribution. 

i think about how i can write a novel about violence and it will be pg-13 but if my characters say “fuck” twice it’s inappropriate. i said fuck three times so far in this post, which makes it only appropriate for adults. 

i think about that, and how my identity is something that people suggest lines up with a swear word. that people shouldn’t talk about it. that it’s a vulgarity. bad for children, harsh, confusing.

fuck. i love women. which one makes this only for those over eighteen.


“dont touch her.” he stated.

“what was that?” the assassin grinned, stepping closer to you.

Theo growled, tearing himself from his restraints, “i said. dont. touch. her.”


gif credit (x) original gifset (x)

i know the best places to throw myself so that
when i hit the ground, the hurt sticks

i know how to open these bones with just my teeth and 
a gold credit card and 

last night was beautiful i barely ate and when i cried
nobody heard me 

i’m sorry i’m a messy lover i’m sorry that i come as 
an expired body, already worn and already

unbecoming  —
i mean 

i told you and myself and my mom and anybody that would listen
that no i wouldn’t go back there again but

i woke up in this place where the light is eating through my eyelids
and yesterday i almost told you everything, how i’ve been a house of spiders

and none of them are interested in helping me live

you look like a knife and i am looking 
to get rid of myself

come kiss me, nevermind, i’m fine, it’s just a long day,
ignore the shaking and ignore the ache in my voice

i’m fine, it’s fine, shit happens in storms and we’re just
caught in the middle of one 

i don’t mean to be annoying it’s just 
not even breathing feels effortless

and i want to be someone who isn’t a burden,
who goes like smoke, who carries no weight

who whips out of your life,
never leaves footprints.

I know it’s not realistic and there’s like a lot of plot and characters and stuff.
But I just really want the finale to be all about Stiles.
Like guys you don’t understand, iv'e missed my baby so much and this next episode is the last episode EVER where we can actually watch this character.
And i’m really REALLY not ready to say goodbye to him.
He is my precious son and my favorite character and im just not done with him yet.
So i need a lottttttt of stiles please.

Oh and a thiam kiss. I definitely need a thiam kiss.

(Just let a girl dream.)

at least in this pain I find familiarity. at least in this pain I’ve lived the same death a thousand times. with my martyr body and all the blood on your hands. with the skin coming right off my lips, with teeth that break from all the pressure. at least in this pain I know i’ll grow back - not entirely but in ways that make you love me again. with torn lips and teeth that grow like fangs. with the thrill of something new for you to break; setting myself like wingless bird right into your iron palms.

Everything feels different when you choose to eat. Sometimes, you feel really shitty, like it was a big mistake.

But then you have those days; the days where you eat and the negative thoughts and the sadness don’t exist. You should allow yourself to enjoy these moments.

Moments where you’re eating breakfast with your loved ones on a Sunday morning and you smile like crazy. The moments where you eat lunch by yourself and feel peaceful because you’re reading your favorite book, watching Netflix, or just sitting in silence and feeling okay. The moments where you grab dinner with a good person and share a few laughs. The moments where you eat your favorite dessert and feel like crying, not because you’re sad, but because it tastes so fucking good!

Remember these moments when choosing to eat feels really shitty.


Requested by anonymous

You knew that you should really be paying attention to your teacher’s lecture but the feeling of someone’s eyes on you caused you to become distracted. You attempt to just ignore this strange feeling but eventually half way through the class you couldn’t take it anymore and looked around. It didn’t take you long to meet a pair of eyes.

You raised an eyebrow at Theo, confused as to what he found so interesting about you. Theo simply just smiled and waved at you in return, as if trying to act like he hasn’t been staring at you for about thirty minutes now.

You found yourself giggling, waving back then turning away from him. Perhaps his staring was completely innocent, maybe it meant something more but for now you decided you just weren’t going to question it.