An afab person kneels in front of the camera, their shirt pulled up enough to offer a view of their ass and a tuft of pubes between their legs. Photo.

There’s a guy I like. A guy I haven’t fucked but who I’ve dreamed about fucking. A guy who I’ve wanked over but who I don’t really know. A guy who I want to know, because I wanted to be his friend years ago and I still want to be his friend now – it’s just that now I want to be his friend and suck his dick. But I’m not always honest when I text him, because it’s way easier to send him nudes than be vulnerable or (god forbid) needy.Read More →

A young afab person in a red jumper and jeans stares at their phone, chuckling to themselves. Photo.

Am I a shitty feminist if I’m waiting for a boy to text me back? Specifically a cis boy who I used to have a crush on, and I recently found out used to have a crush on me too. We’ve been flirting a bit, over the last few days, and I might like him more than I want to admit. I might like him so much that I seem to be waiting around for him to text me back right now… which makes me feel like a shitty feminist.Read More →

Smart phone on duvet cover. Photo.

Before I started working on this blog post draft again, I thought I had answered the sleep or sexting? question that I’d struggled with when I first started writing it. My depression makes it hard enough to get out of bed in the morning as it is, even when I get enough sleep. The logical thing to do for my mental illness is to chose going to bed over late night flirting every time. And yet…Read More →