Choose the bear
Grizzly bears don't wait outside bars...
They don't follow women to their cars.
They don't put drugs in your cup...
They don't call you a "fucking cunt."
The worst they can do is maul you...
Or leave you on the ground to bleed.
At least if a bear attacked me...
People would actually believe me.
Bears don't wear shirts saying "your body, my choice"
Bears don't teach their daughters that "boys will just be boys."
Bears don't vote for fascists who put women in caskets...
Bears don't gang rape women and blame it on their outfits...
The worst they can do is kill you...
Or leave us on the ground to bleed.
At least if a bear attacks me...
Then people won't blame me.
Keşke tedavisi olsaDizi/Film
Şerefsizlik iyileştirilecek bir şey değil.
There's no cure for being a cunt.
- game of thrones
📚🔔 Tatil zili çaldı!
Bir yıl boyunca verilen emeklerin ardından şimdi dinlenme, keşfetme ve yeni maceralara atılma zamanı. 🌞
Bu yaz bol kahkahalı, bol anılı ve elbette bol kitaplı geçsin. Tüm öğrencilere keyifli tatiller diliyoruz! 💙📖
Poetry?
“Look at me,” she demanded.
He did, his eyes glazed over in lust, lips pulled back. His chest heaved,
muscled and bristled with hair. She could dive into him and lose herself in
the forest of his body.
“Tell me something true about you,” she said and dragged his cock until
the bulbous head fit between her thumb and finger. She caressed the
mushroom-shaped tip.
“Hira,” he gasped and tightened his hold on her thighs, bruising her.
“Tell it to me now or I won’t allow you in me,” she smiled wickedly,
delighting in having him at her mercy. She rubbed the head of his member
once more, her cunt tightening as he growled.
“I… I’ve written you poems,” he said, and his eyes met hers. “Not on
paper, but in my mind. In my heart.”
Oh. She’d not expected sweet words from him while she held him in her
fist. “You wrote me poetry?”
He flushed red, even as he bit his lip against the onslaught of her grip. “I
did.”
A Savage Queen
“Don’t you see I’ve been attempting to protect—”
“That is not your place!” she snarled and stood from the bed, searching
the ground for her clothing. “I don’t give a shit what you promised my
uncle. He’s dead. You answer to me now. I’m your High Lady. I’m your
ruler.” She scoffed, “You’re behaving just like everyone else. You hold
things back from me because you think you’re protecting me. What you’re
really doing is severing my power. And I’ll not have my power amputated
by anyone ever again.”
His face brightened at her words, and he stood. His body coiled in anger.
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “You stormed onto this ship as a
brat! You said it yourself; you would’ve gladly handed Furia the seat if she
wished for it!”
She yanked herself out of his arms and shoved him back with her
mangled hand. He stumbled and almost fell.
“This cunt you just fucked,” and she grasped her womanhood. “Belongs
to a woman, not a girl. You hold anything else from me again, Sir, and it’ll
be the last conversation you and I will ever have.” She took a deep breath.
“Do you understand me?”
"You would think a less enlightened man than myself, a cruder man than myself, a man less sensitized to the qualities and charms and value of women—a man like that, not me, but a man like that, he just might call her a cunt."—Jimmy McNulty
