garashirs:

i love sitting on a sofa with one leg crossed over the other and my arms spread out across the headboard behind me like a young, reckless, 1920s gentleman of ambiguous sexuality, with more money than i know what to do with and an intense weariness of the shallow, hedonistic lifestyle enjoyed by my companions

partner: what about we roleplay tonight ;))
me: alright. the year is 1832, in france. i’m the leader of a student revolution. you’re a drunk artist. we have desperate sex because we are so very afraid of dying. and then we die, holding hands. beautiful.