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This blog is a view into what life is like when you are not chosen by god

coming home to your wine drunk wife in a little dress, and she immediately wraps herself around you, inhaling your scent, pouting that she missed you and she has more wine to share, because she pinky promises she didn’t finish it. and you wrap your arms around her and keep her close because she feels likes home and shes soft and pliable and fuck you’ve needed her for hours, and she’s pressed so close against your chest it makes your head spin. and your knees nearly buckle as she starts unbuttoning your shirt and fuck she’s so gorgeous UGH

if you aren't best friends with your lover and a little bit in love with all your friends than what's the fucking point

What if I don’t want to love you? What if I just want to hold you for a moment? To feel your hair between my fingers? To experience your soft touch on my thigh? Your breath on my neck? To look into your eyes and not pull away my gaze?

But then, silly me- these experiences drive me to love you. To know you. Love turns out to be something I can’t control once I’ve held you. Once I’ve felt you, seen you.

Got me my Furio 💕

horror movie showing a child’s drawing of the monster or ghost or whatever but instead of a little kid and crayons they’re like a preteen and it’s manga style