This is why you cant trust women, even when theyre mouth is closed theyre still lying to you
you do realize that this is really hurtful right?
i did not do this to show how i am ‘lying’ to men or anyone, it’s not about how you, as a man, should feel about it - it’s about myself.
to me your statement sounds as if the left side of this picture is something awful or horrible. and no, it’s not. it is my face - with and without makeup. and whether i chose to wear it or not is MY AND JUST MY decision. and when i do, i do it for myself - so that i feel good about myself - not for you.
Guys are always the good guys right?
Doing everything for girls, interacting with them in a respective way, etc.
Guys can be as much of a backstabbing bitch as a girl.
It’s the PERSON who is bad. NOT the race or gender.
And for me, about this picture,
I think it’s fucked-up that society has driven woman so far that some of them do not dare go out of the house without make-up because otherwise they think they are ugly.
And before people start raging or defending themselves:
I’m not saying all woman do that.
Reblogging again for the comments.
the loft twinkled and glowed amber gold..
'i’ve something very special for you' he whispered in her ear, as he nuzzled her neck.
i think you hypnotized me’ she dreamily said ’ or cast a spell upon me’
she melted into his arms as his mouth claimed hers with the most passionate kiss.
his hands were like those of a sculptor caressing and lovingly exploring her contours.
the lovers left a trail of clothes along the way, as he kissed her into bed.
his eyes spoke of darkness and excitement as hers answered yes.
he gently lowered her onto the cloudlike down duvet, amid a mass of pillows.
the line had just been crossed.
the gentle rain was about to unleash the fury of a tempest.
her hands were suddenly grasped and pulled over her head..
and clasped in place with handcuffs..
her ankles were locked next…
he stood over her, in supreme control…
his breath deep, his eyes burning seduction.
she searched the darkness until one candle came into view.
he picked up the solitary candle and tilted it just slightly…
so that one splash of hot wax hit her skin…
her body writhed and lifted slightly from the bed…
'you’ll come to love this' he spoke,
as his mouth warmed her wetness and splashes of wax decorated her.
It was a day like any other work day and she carried about her business as usual. Meetings, phonecalls, staff catch-ups and the like. But throughout the day she’d noticed people staring at her in an odd way, some had averted their eyes and even cancelled meetings at the last munute. She put it…
imagine how cool it would be if when we died we got our life statistics like how many times we laughed or cried or fell in love or how many books we’ve read or movies we have seen or friends you’ve made countries you’ve been to and you could see your whole life laid out after you died like how cool would that be