‘I just want Evie to raw me with whatever the Victorian version of a strap-on is. I always imagine digging my nails into her fight club-fresh biceps as she takes out any frustration/aggression from the day’s mission on me, with plenty of bruises to my collar bone from bites and a slightly tender scalp from her pulling my hair. Afterwards, though, I imagine she’d be her usual sweet and clever self. Maybe we’d thumb through a favorite book of hers together before drifting off (and yes, cuddling).’