I would date an actor just so I can tell people that my boyfriend’s an actor and then they’d be like “oh? What’s he been in?” And I’d say “me” and raise my wine glass and laugh because in this scenario I’m at a fancy cocktail party.
traditional celtic folk music makes me go buck fucking wild. i don’t know what it is, if it’s just in my blood or if it’s a past life or just ‘cause it’s objectively soulful but I hear that fiddle and I immediately transform into this heartbroken irish widow in 1787 with a shawl draped over my shoulders staring over the cliffs of moher, waiting for my ghostly lover to return from sea
sex is intimate and sacred. your body is a temple, and you shouldn’t share it with anyone who believes pitbulls are a naturally aggressive or dangerous breed.
me, sitting on a throne barechested but wearing ornately engraved plate armor on my arms and legs and cloaked in fine almost translucent silks with an enormous snake draped over my shoulders: i got lost in the fantasy of this dope outfit and forgot what kinda post i was gonna make
bongdanceking 