imagine your OTP having lazy saturday morning sex, eyes half open, early-morning sun washing across the bed, sheets tangled around their legs. it’s nothing too intense, warmth and messy tenderness, faces buried into each other’s necks and pleasure shivering down their spines
I love wedding photos of strangers. I don’t even know you but I’m so happy that you’re happy and you look so lovely and it’s so wonderful and affirming somehow. I don’t know. Wedding photos make me happy.
She had curves in all the wrong places. She had a boob sticking out of her kneecap and I’d never seen an ass on the back of someone’s head before
She had legs that went on forever. And ever, and ever. Legs going on into the endless primordial void from which we all came from and to which we shall all return. Her toes touched infinity, her hips perched on the cessation of existence.