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The pet names and the chained pinkies—it’s an act. Specifically, the act of a predator. Like a stinging insect cloaked in the satin bell of a flower.
Long ago I had to learn that my body isn’t who I am; who I am is how I feel.
Their industriousness doesn’t clash with their usual hyper-femininity; it simply combines with it. Reveals that both can exist in the same body.
