#this is for one person and one person only
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Q
The #AllLivesMatter degenerates love the two-tier style of justice and complete disregard for children.
#luigi mangione#free luigi#It is frustrating how the government gave him terrorist charges despite killing only one person#This shows what the government truly prioritizes#The government does not care for anyone except for the rich
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
I think sometimes people think eugenics is bad but its still true, like thinking that if people with certain traits have children it will change society for better or worse based upon what traits are promoted. I think its important to emphasize that eugenics is not only wrong morally it's also fake and stupid bullshit
Like eugenics was supposed to be based on the idea that "If it works with animals to select only the best ones to breed, why wouldn't it work with humans?"
well it doesn't work with animals, that's the thing. applying the eugenics ideas to domestic breeds of animals hasn't made better animals it's just made animals with more extreme expression of certain traits. turns out that when you decide which traits are the "best" and become obsessed with the genetic purity of the animals that have the "best" traits, you might well end up with some sad suffering creature like a Pug, or the Persian cats with the smashed faces that are in constant pain because their teeth and airways and brains are getting crushed by their skulls, or those meat chickens that grow so fast they can hardly even stand up after a few weeks old, or inbred race horses with tiny feet and fragile toothpick legs
like almost all traits are neither "good" or "bad" they're way more complex than that. a long tail or a long snout or a stubborn, independent personality can be good or bad depending on the situation. Who gets to decide what is a "good" trait or a "bad" trait? It's arbitrary and selecting for traits that are "good" in your opinion will often have both "good" and "bad" outcomes because the "good" and "bad" are part of each other and not separate its just part of being alive
Obviously oversimplifying everything but you get it. we did eugenics with dogs and how did that go? not very well
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
so let me share something with you guys for a second
(nsfw)
ghost is hot, right? we all know that. picture him always having someone sneaking out his room during unsocial able hours, shushes and clattering of buckles hitting the floor as his latest hookup creeps back down the halls to the cold barracks
and you, the awkward recruit with a fat crush on your lieutenant who envys every person who shamelessly shoots their shot with him and succeeds. letting him make a mess out of them for one night only
and it is always one night only
no same person has ever left his room twice, nothing more than a cheap hookup to him. you know you wouldn’t be any different, shown the door before you can even get your cargos zipped back up but if it meant at least one night with simon riley, you really didn’t care
but when it’s finally your turn? when you finally drink up enough courage to speak to the brooding man in the corner nursing his own drink in the corner of the bar, it turns out he didn’t even know your name
but that’s okay, it’s not like he was gonna be your future husband anyway so you power through. pull out all the charisma you have stored away for moments like this and you soon find yourself back in his room, making a complete fool of yourself
struggling to unbuckle his belt, biting down too hard on his lip during the, quite frankly, terrible make-out session that led up to your current situation, responding to his dirty talk with blinded stutters
and when he finally pulls out his cock? you’re too nervous to relax, and it doesn’t fit. before he can give you some half-assed ‘s’alright, love. another time, yeah?’, you’re shoving him off and rushing out his room before you can even get yourself fully-dressed
for weeks, you avoid him. at least, that’s what he calls it. you didn’t consider it avoidance under the assumption that he had no intentions of pursuing you again
simon was under the same assumption, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every hook-up leading up to you was a performance, an act he completed as some odd way of reminding himself that he was still, in fact, human
your heated cheeks and scrunched nose every time you fumbled was strangely refreshing to simon, a friendly reminder that not everything needed to be so serious, so professional. maybe the humanising act could be an experience instead, he thinks as he reaches for his phone
that night had been keeping you up for weeks, replaying every stupid way you messed up the thing you had been thinking about since you laid eyes on simon
and then your phone pings. from an unknown number.
‘price is off base. come to my room and I’ll make it fit this time.’
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
i understand this was like a cute little hehe or whatever but i specifically edited the first image from one that didnt specify anything bc i never see posts appreciating fat women's bodies unless their fatness is completely removed from the situation and, as a fat dyke, i find it super annoying!! and every single time i do something like this someone inevitably chimes in with an "ALL women are great" ass comment. like yeah, women are great. i love kissing women - but i wanted to make this about fat women's tummies specifically!!!! you can make ur own post ab vaguely loving all kinds of women!!! i encourage it genuinely!!!
#DONT RB THIS ONE#pls dont ever do this on my posts again#the person im rbing from isnt the only one who's done this and on this one its really not the biggest deal#but it's happening on all my posts that i specifically am making ab fat women so like. its getting annoying#im also defensive here ik its really not about You specifically prev its just the sheer number of times this has happened atp#on any post i make celebrating fatness#also i dont think i need to say this one but: dont be mean to prev!! i doubt this was malicious!!#im Genuinely just irritated i cant have a single post about loving fat women not become a “ALL women!!” thing#there's another edit in here that took away everything except “kissing” and “#“tummy” and that one also pisses me off this is just the first one that was in there
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Can someone explain this whole honey situation? Since I’m extremely confused about the finances of this
long story short, when you click an affiliate link for a sponsored product, the person who is partnered with the company gets a small cut of money for promoting it. Honey instead took the sale entirely, paying the creator nothing. so if i partnered and you used my promo code, I would get paid a small chunk of money for my service, but instead honey would so some shady stuff and take the sale itself and give nothing to the people they partnered with. this was for nearly every person who pushed it
simultaneously, they would control which discounts were available via their app. So if i go to Best Buy and they have a 50% off code somewhere on the internet, they would not list it BECAUSE if they say "well couldn't find a code" or "we found the best code" and its only 5% off, you wouldn't be inclined to look and take it on face value then just go about your business. this would save the corporations they partnered with a chunk of money because instead of taking off larger chunks of money via coupons it would only use Honey branded promo codes that took off like 5%, stopping you from doing the looking yourself and also saving corpos money bc you didnt look deep enough.
so basically: you have an app that says "we'll save you money" you trust them and the creator that linked them, so you support the creator hoping they get paid, and not only do they not get paid, but the corporations said "dont show them the good coupons" and you believe it because....well why wouldn't you. it did what it said it was gonna do only not really. so you saved very little to no money and also no one got paid besides honey
708 notes
·
View notes
Text
wrong guy, lando norris
summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]
been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx
y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain
Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others
y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)
view all 579 comments
user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?
user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!
user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.
iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl ����
y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!
user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author
user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️
user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content
user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…
user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.
user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho
user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author
user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong
user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando
user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!
user24 then explain the head kiss?
user8 friendly head kisses???
user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour
user12 smells like a third wheel in here…
y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼♀️
user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol
user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time
user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author
user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.
user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED
user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!
y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x
user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW
maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those
landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame
y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort
user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author
user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest
pietra.pilao 😍😍
y/n.y/l 💞💞
user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)
15 August 2024
maxfewtrell ✓
Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others
maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡
👤 pietra.pilao
view all 398 comments
user1 WAIT WHAT
user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??
pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author
user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!
user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw
user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)
user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭
y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕
y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author
user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS
user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂
user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”
user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!
user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.
user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭
29 August 2024
y/n.y/l
Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others
y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh
view all 930 comments
user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG
user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING
maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.
user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy
user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg
maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author
user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg
user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING
pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author
user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author
user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂
user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author
user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?
user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job
user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author
user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.
francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author
user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author
user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED
user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive
user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando
user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.
maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered
y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.
user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀
user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover
user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........
user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago
user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma
user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow
landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤
y/n.y/l ☺️☺️
y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭
1 September 2024
#social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#bsf!reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Everything's Ruined
Christmas Special 🎄
Hanni x Male Reader
word count: 10K
The room glows with the warm, soft buzz of Christmas lights tangled messily over the mantle and around the windows. Music hums in the background—a lazy mix of holiday classics and some throwback pop songs someone thought was ironic. You’re sunk deep into the couch, a heavy glass of whiskey and eggnog dangling loose in your hand. It’s late, the party is only half over, but everyone is already wasted, even though they're just chilling now; a handful of half-drunk bodies lounging, half-assedly debating the virtues of Die Hard as a Christmas movie.
Then there’s Hanni.
She’s curled up next to you, except "curled" isn’t right. She’s draped—like she forgot personal space was a thing about three drinks ago. Her dark hair tumbles over her face as she tips her head back in a laugh that’s way too loud for whatever dumb joke someone just made. Her cheeks are flushed, probably from the wine she’s been inhaling all night, and when she looks at you, her eyes are glassy and warm, like you’re the most hilarious person alive just for existing.
Thing is, Hanni’s your best friend—the one person you're not supposed to have these feelings for, but with the alcohol in your system and the way she’s leaning into you now, all flushed cheeks and that stupid, glassy smile, it’s getting real fucking hard to remember why.
“God, you’re so fuckin' cute,” she slurs, and you blink. She doesn’t seem to notice, just scoots closer, swinging her legs over your lap like she’s staking territory. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”
You snort. “You tell me that every time you’re wasted, Hanni. Get some new material.”
She pouts, sticking out her lip in this over-the-top cartoon way that somehow makes you grin like an idiot. Her weight settles heavier against you, and yeah, you’re feeling that whiskey warmth in your veins too. Her hand wanders—innocently enough at first—over your shoulder, across your chest, then down to rest right at the edge of dangerous territory.
“I’m serious this time, though!” She pokes your chest like she’s trying to prove a point. “You’re the only person who gets me, y’know? Like…fuck, dude, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d probably marry you.”
That pulls a laugh out of you, sharp and incredulous. “Wow, what an honor. Thanks for the consolation prize.”
Hanni leans forward, her face inches from yours now, her breath sweet with wine and whatever sugary cocktail she’s been nursing all night. “I mean it, asshole. You’re like…everything.” Her voice drops, softer now, and she smirks, but it’s the kind of smirk that’s all affection and none of the usual bite. “You’re my fucking rock.”
You feel something twist low in your gut. “Shit, Hanni, who knew wine turned you into a Hallmark card?” you say, trying to keep it light.
She bursts into giggles, doubling over, her face pressed to your chest. Her ass shifts on your lap, and you freeze for a second because—fuck—her skirt’s hiked up just enough for you to feel the heat of her through the thin fabric. Hanni doesn’t notice, or maybe she doesn’t care, because she’s too busy tracing lazy patterns over your stomach now, her touch just shy of intimate.
“Y’know what sucks?” she mumbles, tilting her head up to look at you, her hair sticking to her damp forehead. “You’re too good for me. Like, no joke, you should be with someone hot, not stuck babysitting my drunk ass.”
You raise an eyebrow, trying not to focus on the way her thighs are pressing into yours or the flash of bare skin where her sweater’s ridden up. “Who says I’m stuck? Maybe I like babysitting your drunk ass.”
Her face softens in this way that makes your chest feel too tight. She shifts again, pressing closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear when she whispers, “That’s why I love you.”
It’s teasing, almost playful, but there’s something heavier underneath, something that makes your pulse spike. You’re about to say something—maybe a joke, maybe something stupidly earnest—but then someone across the room yells out, “Alright, last call for shots!”
Hanni perks up immediately, her attention snapping away from you. “Hell yeah! Let’s fucking go!” she yells, hopping up so fast you almost spill your drink.
As she stumbles off, you exhale, leaning back into the couch, trying to will away the heat simmering low in your stomach. It’s just Hanni, you remind yourself. She gets like this when she’s drunk—touchy, emotional, saying all kinds of shit she won’t even remember tomorrow. But fuck, if she isn’t beautiful, with her tiny frame and those absurdly thick thighs that make no goddamn sense on someone her size.
You shake your head, draining the rest of your drink.
—
What began as a quiet night spirals into that perfect mess of booze and laughter, the kind of chaos that only happens when no one’s watching the clock or counting drinks. Someone’s wearing a Santa hat and nothing else but a pair of boxers. Someone else decided the fake Christmas tree would make a great dance partner, and now half the ornaments are shattered on the floor. You and Hanni are still on the couch, her body leaning heavily against yours as you both wheeze-laugh at something dumb on the TV—a claymation Rudolph looking suspiciously baked out of his red-nosed mind.
At some point, Hanni grabs the half-empty bottle of wine from the coffee table and lifts it in a mock toast. “To you, bestie,” she slurs, words spilling out like syrup. “The only motherfucker who didn’t ditch me when I got kicked outta karaoke night last month.”
You roll your eyes, reaching to take the bottle from her before she spills it. “You got kicked out because you tried to sing ‘WAP’ like it was a gospel hymn, Hanni.”
“It was art, you heathen,” she shoots back, but her pout barely lasts before her face splits into a grin. “But seriously. You’re the real MVP.”
“You’re so full of shit,” you say, laughing as you set the bottle safely aside. “But thanks, I guess.”
Time keeps sliding, blurring at the edges. Someone takes an Uber home. Someone else starts snoring under the coffee table. By the time you look around again, the room’s mostly empty. It’s just you, Hanni, and the sound of some low-budget Christmas movie droning in the background. Hanni’s slumped sideways against you, her head resting on your shoulder. Her breath is soft, wine-sweet and warm, and when you shift slightly, she groans.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” she mumbles, voice thick with the haze of too much alcohol. Her hand tightens on your arm like a sleepy cat staking its claim.
“Nah, I’m good,” you say, but the sight of her like this—soft and unguarded—makes something in your chest clench. “You, on the other hand, can’t even sit up straight. You’re not going anywhere.”
She blinks up at you, her eyes unfocused but shining, like she’s trying to process your words. “So what? I just crash here?”
“No,” you say, patting her leg. “My place is closer, and I don’t trust you not to wander into traffic if I send you home.”
She snorts, the sound loud and ungraceful. “Aw, look at you, being all responsible and shit. You’re such a dad sometimes.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted.”
You help her to her feet, and she wobbles, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. After saying goodbye to your friends, somehow, you manage to guide her the short distance to your apartment, both of you giggling like idiots the whole way. By the time you’re inside, her sweater’s sliding off one shoulder, and her hair’s a mess, but she looks at you with this sleepy grin that makes your head swim worse than the booze.
You sit her down on the couch, and she flops back like she’s about to take a nap right then and there. “God, your couch is so comfy,” she murmurs, kicking off her shoes.
“It’s a couch, Hanni, not a five-star hotel,” you say, but you’re smiling anyway as you sit down next to her.
For a while, it’s quiet. The kind of quiet that comes when the party’s over, and the city outside is muted under the weight of night. Hanni shifts closer, curling her legs under her, her knee brushing yours. She looks at you, and there’s something in her gaze now—not just the drunken haze, but something deeper. Something you’ve been trying not to notice all night.
“I meant what I said earlier,” she says, her voice soft but steady.
You frown. “What? That I’m cute?”
She nods, biting her lip like she’s bracing for impact. “Yeah. That. And the part about loving you.”
Your chest tightens, and you let out a short, breathless laugh, trying to break the tension. “Hanni, you’re drunk. You’re gonna forget this by tomorrow morning.”
“Fuck that,” she says, sitting up straighter now, her face inches from yours. “You think I don’t know how I feel? You’re my best friend, yeah, but also…you’re more. You’ve always been more.”
Her words hang there, heavy and undeniable. Your pulse thrums in your ears as she leans in, her lips brushing yours, tentative at first. Then it deepens, and all the air seems to vanish from the room. Her hands slide up your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair, and before you can think, you’re kissing her back, your hands gripping her waist like she’s the only thing keeping you anchored.
When you finally break apart, her lips are swollen, her breath hitching as she looks at you like you’ve just answered a question she’s been too afraid to ask.
“This is so fucking stupid,” you whisper, but you’re already leaning in again, your lips finding hers as the tension between you snaps like a live wire. She climbs onto your lap, her thighs pressing against you, and you don’t even care that you’re both still drunk. The couch groans under your combined weight, but neither of you notice, too caught up in the heat of the moment.
“We should—bed—” you manage to mumble between kisses, and she nods, her lips trailing down your jaw.
Somehow, you make it to the bedroom, the clothes leaving a haphazard trail in the hallway and inside your room. By the time you hit the mattress, both already naked, it’s not just excitement buzzing through you—it’s the quiet, electric realization that this is happening, and there’s no turning back.
The bed creaks beneath you both, the springs protesting as Hanni sprawls out on her back, looking up at you with a mix of hazy confidence and nervous vulnerability. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a wild mess against your pillow, and she’s biting her lip so hard you’re half afraid she’ll draw blood. You hover over her, your hands on either side of her, just taking her in for a moment. This is Hanni—your best friend, your partner in crime—and right now, she looks like a fucking dream, her legs parted slightly, the curve of her hips begging for attention.
“You’re staring,” she says, voice low but teasing, and she reaches up, cupping your jaw with one hand. Her fingers are warm, soft, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “I know I’m hot, but damn.”
You laugh, short and breathless, shaking your head. “Fuck off, Hanni. You’re not gonna ruin this by talking shit.”
“Oh, I’m totally gonna talk shit,” she replies, her grin sharp but faltering slightly when you dip your head, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss is slower this time, deeper, and when you nip at her bottom lip, she gasps into your mouth, her hips shifting beneath you.
Your hand finds her side. Her skin’s soft and warm, and when your palm grazes the swell of her breast, she lets out this soft, needy sound that goes straight to your cock
“God, you’re so fucking impatient,” you murmur against her lips, but your tone’s more affectionate than mocking. Your hand slides down, over her tummy, then you pause, your fingers resting just above where you know she’s burning for you.
“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her eyes lock on yours, and for a moment, you think she’s gonna back out, but then she smirks. “Don’t fucking tease me.”
“Well, now I have to,” you say, rubbing your fingers on her mon pubis.
“Asshole,” she breathes, but her words catch in her throat when your fingers find her slick folds. She’s soaked, and the realization sends a rush of heat through you. “Oh, fuck—”
“Shit, Hanni,” you say, your voice rough with a mix of awe and lust. “You’re fucking dripping.”
Her laugh is shaky, more like a breathy moan. “Yeah, well…you’re taking your sweet ass time about it.”
“Patience is a virtue,” you reply, but your fingers are already sliding lower, brushing over her clit. The reaction is immediate—her body jerks, her hips pressing up into your hand as a strangled moan escapes her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her words tumbling out as your fingers circle her clit, slow and deliberate. “Just like that—oh, god, yeah, like th—oh fuck!”
Her voice cuts off as you slide one finger into her, her walls clenching around you like a vice. You add another finger, curling them slightly, and the noise she makes is obscene—half a gasp, half a moan, her head tipping back against the pillow.
“You’re so fucking tight,” you say, your voice low and rough. “How the fuck are you this tight?”
“Shut up,” she groans, but there’s no real bite to her words. Her hands grip the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping her grounded as you start moving, your fingers pumping into her at a steady rhythm.
Her hips roll against your hand, desperate and needy, and when your thumb brushes her clit again, she practically cries out. “Oh my god—yes—just like that—fuck!”
“Yeah?” you ask, grinning as you lean down, your lips grazing her ear. “You like that, Hanni? You like the way I’m fucking you with my fingers?”
“Yes—fuck, yes—” she gasps, her voice breaking as her body arches off the bed. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking dare—”
Her words dissolve into moans as you pick up the pace, your fingers fucking her harder, faster. You can feel her tightening around you, her breath hitching, her entire body trembling as she teeters on the edge.
“Come on, Hanni,” you murmur, your lips brushing her temple. “Let go for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my fingers.”
Her response is incoherent—a garbled mix of your name and curses—but then she’s coming apart, her back arching, her thighs trembling as her pussy clenches around your fingers. Her moan is long and guttural, her hands flying to your shoulders as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.
“Fuck—fuck, oh my god—” she pants, her chest heaving as she comes down, her body still shivering under your touch. You don’t stop, not yet, your fingers slowing but staying inside her, coaxing out every last aftershock.
When you finally pull your hand away, her eyes flutter open, and she looks at you with a dazed, fucked-out expression that makes your chest tighten.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, her voice shaky. “That was…”
You smirk, leaning down to kiss her, your lips brushing hers lightly. “We’re not done yet.”
Before she can respond, you slide down the bed, positioning yourself between her legs. You press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, your hands spreading her open, and she gasps, her hands flying to your hair as your tongue flicks over her sensitive clit, licking through the mess she’s left behind—sweet, sticky, and fucking intoxicating. Hanni’s trembling beneath you, her thighs twitching every time your tongue grazes her clit. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging just hard enough to sting, and you can’t tell if she’s trying to push you away or keep you there forever.
“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” she gasps, her voice breathy and half-wrecked, like she’s been screaming at a concert all night. “I’m—oh god—s-sensitive—”
You pull back slightly, grinning against her skin. “Yeah? Sensitive, huh? You’re the one who keeps pulling me closer.”
“Shut up,” she snaps, but her words falter when you press your tongue flat against her, slow and wet, dragging it from her entrance to her clit. Her body jolts, a sharp inhale cutting her off. “Oh fuck—stop talking and just—”
“What? Just this?” you interrupt, sucking her clit into your mouth, your fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place when she tries to squirm away. Her reaction is immediate—her back arches off the mattress, her head tossing back against the pillow.
“FUCK—yes, like that—oh my god, just like that—” she chokes out, her voice rising and falling with every flick of your tongue.
You pull back just enough to murmur, “You taste so fucking good, Hanni. I could eat you all night.”
She groans, throwing an arm over her face, her voice a mix of exasperation and raw need. “You’re such a goddamn showoff.”
“And you love it,” you reply, sliding your tongue back inside her, savoring the way she clenches around it. The cream left behind from her last orgasm coats your lips, and you lap at it like a man starving, dragging out every broken moan she gives you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she stammers, her hands gripping your hair like a lifeline. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”
You pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at her. “Gonna what? Cum again? Already?”
Her glare is half-hearted, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re dripping,” you shoot back, crawling up her body until your face is hovering over hers. You kiss her, slow and dirty, letting her taste herself on your lips. When you pull back, her eyes flicker down between your bodies, and her breath hitches.
“Holy shit,” she whispers, and you follow her gaze to where your cock is pressed against her stomach, hard and heavy. “That’s…uh…”
“What?” you ask, smirking. “Bigger than you expected?”
She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing as her eyes dart back to your face. “I mean—yeah, kinda.”
You laugh, the sound low and rough as you reach down, guiding her onto her hands and knees. “Don’t worry. You’ll take it.”
She lets out a nervous laugh, glancing over her shoulder at you as you position yourself behind her. “Confident much?”
“You’ll see,” you say, running the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her just enough to make her hips jerk back toward you. “Fuck, Hanni, you’re so wet. You’re gonna take me so good.”
Her response is a shaky moan, her hands gripping the sheets as you push inside her, slow and steady. The stretch is immediate, her body tightening around you like a vice, and you grit your teeth, fighting to keep control.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, her voice high and breathless. “Oh fuck—you’re—fuck, you’re huge—”
“Yeah?” you say, gripping her hips as you sink deeper, inch by inch. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Fuck, yes—don’t stop—” she groans, her head dropping forward as you bottom out, your hips flush against her ass. You stay still for a moment, letting her adjust, your hands smoothing over her waist, her back, the curve of her ass.
“You look so fucking good like this,” you murmur, giving her ass a firm squeeze. “All spread out for me.”
She lets out a soft laugh, glancing back at you with a dazed smirk. “You’re so full of yourself.”
You don’t bother replying, instead pulling back and snapping your hips forward, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Her gasp turns into a cry, her body rocking forward with the force of your thrust.
“Fuck—yes, just like that—” she moans, her voice muffled as her face presses into the pillow. You pick up the pace, your grip on her hips tightening as you fuck her harder, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you.
You raise one hand, bringing it down on her ass with a sharp slap. The sound echoes in the room, and she cries out, her walls tightening around you. “Shit—you like that?” you ask, spanking her again, harder this time.
“Fuck—yes—do it again—” she pants, her voice ragged. You oblige, your hand coming down on her ass until it’s red and warm under your palm. She’s a mess beneath you, moaning and writhing, her body arching every time you spank her.
Your grip tightens on Hanni’s hips as you feel her starting to unravel. Her moans spill out in frantic, breathy bursts, her voice trembling under the pressure of everything building inside her. She’s trying to keep her balance, her arms shaking as she holds herself up, but you’re not making it easy. Every thrust has her lurching forward, her ass bouncing back to meet you, her body completely giving in to the rhythm you’ve set.
“Shit—fuck—oh my god, I’m so close,” she stammers, her voice climbing higher, more desperate with every word. Her hands claw at the sheets, bunching the fabric into her fists as you slam into her again, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.
“Come on, Hanni,” you growl, your breath hot against the sweat-slicked curve of her back. Your hand dips between her legs, fingers finding her clit and circling it in sync with your thrusts. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you?”
“Yes—oh god, yes,” she cries out, her voice cracking as her hips buck against your hand. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”
You don’t. You keep your pace steady, unrelenting, the wet sounds of her slick pussy growing louder, more obscene, until finally, she snaps. Her whole body locks up, her head tossing back as a scream tears out of her throat, raw and broken.
“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her thighs trembling violently as her orgasm rips through her, wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure. Her walls clench around you like a vice, trying to pull you deeper, but you hold still, grinding into her just enough to prolong her high. Her moans turn into whimpers, then gasps, her body sagging forward as she rides out the aftershocks.
When she finally collapses, her chest heaving against the mattress, you can’t help but grin. “Oh Hanni,” you murmur, sliding out of her slowly, your cock still hard and aching, slick with her arousal. “You looked so fucking good just now.”
She turns her head, her hair sticking to her flushed, sweaty face as she glares at you halfheartedly. “Shut up,” she mutters, but her voice is shaky, her body still twitching with the remnants of her orgasm.
“Nah, I mean it,” you say, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. “You’re fucking perfect like this.”
Her response is a muffled groan into the pillow, and you laugh, flipping her onto her back before she can complain. Her legs fall open instinctively, and the sight of her laid out beneath you—skin flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly—makes your cock twitch.
“I’m not done with you yet,” you murmur, positioning yourself between her legs. Your hands slide up her thighs, pushing them further apart as you line yourself up with her entrance. She looks up at you, her lips parted, her eyes hazy but full of something that goes deeper than just lust.
“God, you’re so fucking cheesy,” she whispers, but there’s no bite to her words. If anything, she looks…soft. Open. Like she’s waiting for something only you can give her.
You push into her slowly, watching her face as you fill her inch by inch. Her lips fall open, a soft gasp escaping her as her body stretches to accommodate you. “Oh fuck,” she breathes, her hands coming up to clutch at your shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re—fuck, you’re so deep—”
“Yeah?” you ask, your voice rough as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. “Feel good?”
“Fuck yes,” she moans, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you closer. “God, you feel so fucking good—”
You start moving, your thrusts slow and deliberate, dragging your cock out almost all the way before slamming back into her. Her head tips back, her nails digging into your shoulders as she moans unabashedly, her voice filling the room. “Yes—fuck, just like that—”
You lean down, bracing yourself on your forearms so you’re hovering over her. Your lips find hers, swallowing her cries as you pick up the pace, your hips snapping against hers harder, faster. She breaks the kiss first, gasping for air, her hands sliding into your hair to tug you closer.
“I love you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies colliding. Her eyes meet yours, wide and shining, and the vulnerability in her expression makes your cock throbs. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
You freeze for a second, but the way she’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth—it's enough to drive you crazy. “Hanni,” you murmur, your voice breaking as you start moving again, slower this time, each thrust deep and deliberate. “Fuck, I love you too.”
Her breath hitches, and she pulls you down into another kiss, her legs tightening around you as if she’s trying to fuse your bodies together. “Don’t stop,” she whispers against your lips. “Don’t ever stop.”
"I won't," you groan, your cock throbbing inside her tight, wet pussy as you grind deep. Her walls flutter around you with each slow, deliberate thrust, and you can feel how close she is to cumming. You press your forehead against hers, maintaining eye contact as you fuck her with long, measured strokes.
"You feel so good wrapped around my cock," you tell her, your voice rough with emotion. "So fucking perfect, Hanni. Love how wet you get for me."
She whimpers, her nails digging into your shoulders as her hips buck up to meet yours. "Only for you," she gasps. "Nobody's ever made me this wet before."
The admission makes your cock twitch, and you reward her with a particularly deep thrust that has her crying out. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby. Tell me how good I make you feel."
"So good," she moans, her pussy clenching around you. "Your cock fills me up perfectly. Feels like you were made for me."
You kiss her hard, swallowing her moans as you pick up the pace slightly. Your tongue slides against hers as you fuck her deeper, harder, but still maintaining that intimate connection. Her tits press against your chest with each thrust, her hard nipples dragging against your skin.
"Love these perfect tits," you growl, breaking the kiss to trail your lips down her neck. You suck hard enough to leave marks, wanting everyone to know she's yours. "I love how they bounce while I fuck you, how they get so hard for me."
Hanni arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against you. "Please," she whimpers. "Touch them, suck on them, anything!"
You shift your weight to one arm so you can cup one of her tits, rolling the nipple between your fingers as you continue to thrust. "Like this, baby? Like having your tits played with while I fuck your tight little pussy?"
"Yes!" she cries out, her walls clamping down around you. "Fuck, I'm getting close!"
"That's it," you encourage her, lowering your head to take her other nipple into your mouth. You suck hard while still pinching and rolling the other one, your cock never stopping its steady rhythm inside her. "Want to feel you cum all over my cock. Want to feel how tight that pussy gets when you lose control."
Her hands slide into your hair, holding you against her breast as you continue to suck and nibble at her sensitive flesh. "Oh god, oh fuck," she pants, her thighs trembling where they're wrapped around your waist. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"
You release her nipple with a wet pop, looking up to meet her eyes again. "Never stopping, baby. Gonna keep fucking this sweet pussy until you can't take it anymore." You punctuate your words with a particularly deep thrust that has her seeing stars.
"Love watching you fall apart on my cock," you continue, your voice rough with desire. "Love feeling your pussy get wetter and tighter with each thrust. You gonna cum for me, Hanni? Gonna show me how good I make you feel?"
She nods frantically, her eyes glazed with pleasure as she stares up at you. "So close," she whimpers. "Just a little more, please!"
You shift slightly, changing the angle of your thrusts so your cock drags against her g-spot with each stroke. At the same time, you slide your hand between your bodies to find her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud.
"Fuck!" she screams, her back arching off the bed. "Right there, right fucking there!"
"Yeah? This what you need, baby?" You keep the pressure steady on her clit as you continue to pound into her g-spot. "Love how your pussy's gripping me right now. Can feel how close you are to cumming."
Her nails rake down your back as she writhes beneath you, chasing her orgasm. "Please," she begs. "Make me cum again, please make me cum!"
You lean down to whisper in her ear, your voice low and rough. "Cum for me, Hanni. Show me how good my cock makes you feel. Want to feel that tight little pussy squeeze me while you cream all over my dick."
That does it. With a sharp cry of your name, Hanni's orgasm crashes over her. Her pussy clamps down around you like a vice as she cums, her whole body shaking with the force of her release. You can feel her cream gushing around your cock, making everything even wetter and slicker as you continue to fuck her through it.
"That's it, baby," you groan, fighting against your own need to cum as her walls milk your cock. "Fuck, you look so beautiful when you cum. Love watching you lose control like this."
She's babbling incoherently now, a stream of "fuck" and "yes" and your name falling from her lips as her orgasm continues to roll through her. Her pussy is practically convulsing around your cock, making it incredibly difficult to hold back your own release.
But you manage, wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. You stay buried inside her for what feels like forever, your bodies pressed together, sweat mingling, her legs still wrapped tightly around your waist. Hanni’s breathing slows gradually, her chest rising and falling against yours as her trembling subsides. You brush her hair out of her face, tucking the damp strands behind her ear, and she gives you this sleepy, satisfied grin that makes your chest ache.
“You’re gonna ruin me, baby,” she mutters, her voice soft and teasing, her fingers trailing lazily over your back.
You chuckle, nipping at her jawline. “Pretty sure I already did that.”
“Shut up,” she murmurs, but there’s no heat to it. She shifts slightly, wincing when your cock twitches inside her, still rock hard. “Jesus, are you still ready to go?”
“Can’t help it,” you reply, smirking as you grind against her, making her gasp. “You’re fucking addictive, Hanni.”
She groans, covering her face with one hand, but when she peeks up at you through her fingers, her eyes are gleaming. “Okay, fine. My turn.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Your turn for what?”
“To make you cum, dumbass.” She pushes at your chest until you roll onto your back, letting her straddle you. Her thighs press against your hips as she sits back, your cock still buried deep inside her. She bites her lip, her hands sliding over your chest. “God, you’re fucking huge. I can feel you all the way in my stomach.”
“Yeah?” you say, your voice rough, your hands finding her waist. “You’re taking me so fucking well, Hanni. You're absolutely perfect.”
“Damn right I am,” she says, smirking as she starts to move, slow and deliberate, rocking her hips in a way that makes your breath catch. “Fuck, you’re so deep…”
She sets a rhythm, her hands braced on your chest, her body rolling against yours with a lazy, drunk confidence. The sight of her above you—hair a mess, lips swollen, her tits bouncing with every move—has you gripping her hips like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
“Shit, Hanni,” you groan, your head tipping back against the pillow. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
Her laugh is breathy, almost mocking. “Good,” she says, picking up the pace, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. “You deserve it.”
Her movements get sloppier, needier, her breath hitching every time your cock hits that spot inside her. And then, out of nowhere, she starts talking—dirty, raw, and absolutely unhinged.
“God, I can feel you so fucking deep,” she moans. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that? You’re gonna fuck me so full I won’t even be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Fuck,” you hiss, her words going straight to your cock, making you buck up into her. “Keep talking, baby. Fucking say it.”
With your request, Hanni rides you with a desperation that feels almost animalistic, her hips slamming down onto yours like she’s trying to bury you even deeper inside her. Every bounce makes her tits jiggle, her nails scraping against your chest, leaving angry red trails that sting just enough to keep you tethered to reality. But just barely. You’re so drunk, so fucking drunk, that every sensation feels magnified, her heat, her tightness, the wet sounds of her cunt taking you over and over—it’s all you can focus on.
“Fuck—oh fuck—you’re so fucking deep,” she continues, her voice raw and slurred, her head tipping back as she grinds against you, her clit brushing against the base of your cock. “I really can feel you in my fucking stomach—god, you’re ruining me—”
You groan, your hands glued to her waist, guiding her movements as she slams down onto you again and again. “You’re so fucking tight, Hanni. I can barely move—you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”
Her moans grow louder, more frantic, and when she leans forward, her lips grazing your ear, her voice drops to a sultry whisper that shoots straight through you like lightning. “You’re gonna cum inside me, aren’t you?”
Your breath catches, your hands tightening on her hips. “What?”
“You’re gonna fucking fill me up,” she says, her teeth nipping at your earlobe. “I can feel you, baby—you’re so fucking close. I want it. God, I need it.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Hanni—” Your head falls back against the pillow, your grip on her hips almost bruising now as she speeds up, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a reply, because all you can hear, all you can feel, is her.
“I want you to breed me,” she breathes, her words spilling out like she doesn’t even care how insane they sound. “I want you to fill me so fucking full I can feel you leaking out of me for days.”
You choke on a groan, your hips bucking up into her so hard it makes her gasp, her nails dragging down your chest. “Fuck, Hanni—you’re out of your goddamn mind.”
“And it's all your fault,” she shoots back, her voice dripping with lust as she smirks down at you. “You know you drive me crazy and still insist on teasing me. Tell me the truth: you’ve been dying to cum inside me all night, haven’t you?”
“Shit—” Your voice cracks as she grinds her hips in slow, teasing circles, her walls fluttering around you like she knows exactly what she’s doing. “You’re fucking insane.”
She leans down, her hands braced on either side of your head, her breath hot against your face. “Maybe,” she whispers, her voice trembling but full of wicked intent. “But you’re gonna give me what I want, aren’t you?”
Her lips crash against yours before you can answer, swallowing your groan as she slams down onto you again, her movements frantic and unrelenting. The angle shifts just enough to make your cock hit that perfect spot inside her, and she breaks the kiss with a scream, her body convulsing as she clings to you.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck yes—just like that,” she babbles, her words spilling out in a breathless rush. “You’re so deep, so fucking deep—I want it, baby, I want you to cum inside me. Please—fuck—please, I need it.”
Her pleading sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel your control unraveling, your body tensing as the pressure builds, white-hot and unbearable. “Shit, Hanni—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m so close—”
"Yes, yes, fucking breed me!" she begs, voice breaking as she slams herself down harder. "Fill this tight pussy up with your hot fucking cum. I need you to knock me up so bad. Pump that thick cum deep in my womb!"
Her dirty talk drives you wild. Your hands grip her waist, helping lift and drop her onto your throbbing shaft. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, making obscene wet sounds each time she takes you to the hilt. The way her walls grip and massage your cock has your eyes rolling back.
"Gonna cum," you grunt, feeling your balls tighten. "Gonna flood that tight pussy."
"Do it! Fucking do it!" She starts grinding and circling her hips, stimulating every sensitive spot. "Give me every last drop. Want your cum dripping out of me for days!"
Your orgasm hits like a tsunami. Your cock pulses violently as you start shooting thick ropes of hot cum deep inside her. But she doesn't stop - if anything she fucks you harder, determined to milk out every single drop.
"Oh fuuuuck!" you moan as she keeps bouncing through your orgasm. The stimulation is almost too much on your sensitive cock but she won't let up. Her pussy walls contract rhythmically, literally sucking the cum out of you.
"I can feel it," she pants, eyes glazed with lust. "So much hot cum filling me up. Keep cumming for me, baby. Give me more!"
The continued stimulation has you seeing stars. Your cock is so sensitive it almost hurts but the pleasure is mind-blowing. She grinds down hard, working her hips in circles as she milks out another surge of cum.
"Such a good boy," she purrs. "Giving me all that potent cum. Gonna put a baby in me with all this hot fucking seed."
Your whole body trembles as she continues riding. More cum spurts out with each bounce, making wet squelching sounds as it mixes with her juices. She's absolutely relentless, using your cock like her personal cum extraction tool.
"Please," you gasp, overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. "Fuck, Hanni!"
"Just a little more," she moans, her movements getting erratic. "Want every last drop inside me. Need all your cum breeding my tight little pussy!"
Your eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through you, smaller but just as intense. She cries out in triumph as she feels the fresh surge of cum, her own orgasm making her pussy convulse around your oversensitive cock.
"Fuck yes! Breed me, breed me, breed meeee!" She collapses onto your chest, still grinding slowly. "So much cum... You give me so much cum, baby… can feel it so deep..."
Your cock gives a few final weak pulses, completely drained. She finally stills but keeps you trapped inside her, her pussy occasionally squeezing as if trying to coax out any remaining drops.
"Mmm, your cum is so hot, baby," she sighs contentedly. "Filled me up so perfectly. Gonna keep all this hot cum inside me until it takes."
You can only lie there panting as she nuzzles your neck, your thoroughly milked cock still twitching inside her cum-flooded pussy.
You wrap your arms around her, holding her close, and for a long moment, neither of you says anything. The room is silent except for the faint hum of the city outside and the sound of your uneven breathing. Everything feels still, heavy, like the world just stopped to let you exist like this.
Then Hanni snorts.
It starts quiet, just a soft huff against your chest, but it builds quickly, bubbling up until she’s full-on giggling like a kid who just got caught doing something stupid. It’s contagious. You’re laughing too, your head tipping back into the pillow, your chest shaking beneath her.
“What the fuck are we even laughing at?” you wheeze, running a hand through her damp hair as her giggles turn into full-blown cackles.
“I don’t know!” she gasps, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. “I think—I think it’s just—holy shit, we actually did that.”
You grin, wiping at her face with the pad of your thumb. “Yeah, we fucking did. And now I can’t feel my legs, so thanks for that.”
“Don’t even,” she shoots back, propping her chin on your chest and glaring at you playfully. “You’re the one who fucked me so hard I saw stars.”
“Yeah? You’re welcome, then.” You wink at her, and she groans, burying her face in your chest again, her laughter muffled against your skin.
When she finally calms down, she tilts her head up to look at you, her expression softening. “Hey,” she says quietly, her fingers brushing over your jawline. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, you know. I love you.”
Her words hit you like a sucker punch, but not in a bad way. It’s more like someone just flipped a switch inside you, lighting up every dark, unspoken corner of your heart. “Fuck,” you murmur. “I love you too, Hanni.”
She beams, her smile so wide and genuine it almost makes you forget how fucking trashed you both are. “That was—shit, that was the best sex of my life,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Like, no contest. Hall of Fame level.”
You snort. “Same. And that’s saying something, because I once hooked up with this girl who—”
“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence,” she interrupts, smacking your chest lightly. “Don’t ruin the moment!”
“Fine, fine,” you say, grinning as you squeeze her waist. “Moment un-ruined. But seriously, you were fucking amazing.”
She smirks, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Duh. I know that already.”
“God, you’re impossible,” you mutter, but your smile doesn’t falter.
She yawns suddenly, the sound soft and innocent, and you raise an eyebrow. “You good? Wanna hop in the shower or something before we crash?”
Her nose wrinkles immediately, and she shakes her head. “Fuck that. I’m not moving an inch. We can sleep like this—sweaty, sticky, whatever. I don’t give a shit.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you pull her closer, tucking her against your side. “You’re such a goddamn gremlin.”
“Aaand-youuu-loveee-it,” she mumbles, already half-asleep, her voice muffled against your chest.
“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand running up and down her back. “I fucking do.”
Then, finally, the alcohol and exhaustion hit you both like a fucking truck, pulling you under faster than you expect. You drift off together, her body warm and soft against yours, her breath slow and steady in your ear. It’s messy and stupid and probably the worst decision you’ve ever made, but for now, it feels like the best thing in the world. You fall asleep like two reckless, drunk kids who don’t know any better, and for a little while, everything feels perfect.
—
It's like the first morning in purgatory.
You stir first, the throbbing in your skull dragging you out of unconsciousness. Your mouth is dry, your limbs heavy, and every movement feels like wading through molasses. You blink against the pale light leaking through the blinds, your vision blurry, the pounding in your head relentless. Beside you, Hanni lets out a soft groan, still half-buried in the covers, her hair a wild mess against the pillow.
“Fuck…” you croak, your voice rough as sandpaper. “What the hell happened?”
Hanni stirs, her face scrunching up in discomfort. “Why does my brain feel like it’s on fire?” she mutters, her words muffled against the pillow. She shifts slightly, the sheet slipping down to reveal bare shoulders. “Wait—”
She freezes.
Your eyes snap fully open, the fog in your head clearing just enough to process what you’re seeing. Hanni’s eyes go wide, darting between your face and the sheet draped haphazardly over your waist. “Why the fuck are we naked?” she asks, her voice pitching higher, panic seeping into her tone.
You wince, the sound drilling into your already aching skull. “I—uh—” You glance down, seeing your bare chest, then feel the cool air against your equally bare ass under the sheets. “Shit.”
Her hands fly to her own chest, clutching the blanket against herself as if that’ll undo whatever the fuck happened. “Did we…? Oh my god, did we fuck?”
You sit up slowly, your head spinning. “I don’t know! I mean…” Your brow furrows as fragmented memories start piecing themselves together. Her riding you, her breathless moans, the way she begged—fuck, fuck, fuck. “Okay, maybe. Yeah, probably.”
“Probably?” she snaps, sitting up too quickly and clutching her head. “Fuck, my brain feels like it’s gonna split in half. Okay, but like—wait.” Her voice falters, her panic mounting as her eyes search your face. “Did you—did you, uh, cum inside me?”
You freeze, the question hitting you like a brick to the face. “What?” you ask, stalling for time as your headache roars back to life. “I don’t…fuck, I don’t remember. I was so wasted—”
“Oh my god,” she interrupts, her voice trembling as she throws off the covers and sits back on her heels, her hands flying between her legs. She winces, her fingers brushing something sticky, and when she pulls them back, her face goes pale. “Oh my fucking god. I can feel it. It’s—it’s dry—holy shit, you really came inside me!”
Your stomach twists violently as the memories come flooding back—the heat of her body, the way she clung to you, the way you spilled into her so deeply it felt like you’d never come back up for air. “Shit,” you mutter, dragging a hand down your face. “Okay. Fuck. Yeah, that…definitely happened.”
“On Christmas?” she nearly shrieks, clutching the sheet around herself like it’s some kind of moral shield. “You knocked me up on fucking Christmas? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up!” you say, raising your hands defensively. “First of all, technically it was on Christmas Eve. Hmm, although there is a big chance it could have happened after midnight, I think we got here pretty late…” Hanni looks at you as if contemplating the idea of committing murder. “Oh, second and most importantly, nobody’s knocked up yet. It doesn’t happen that fast!”
“Yeah, but you fucking came inside me!” she shoots back, her voice a wild mix of fury and panic. “What the hell were we thinking? Why the fuck didn’t we use a condom?!”
“I don’t know, Hanni! We were drunk off our asses! I barely even remember half of last night!” You gesture vaguely at the room, at the scattered clothes and the bed completely messed up. “I mean, look at this shit. Does this look like the scene of responsible decision-making?”
She glares at you, her hands still clutching the sheet tightly. “Okay, well, what the fuck do we do now? The pharmacies are probably closed. It’s Christmas! Do you think there’s some magical 24/7 Plan B hotline we can call? Hey, Santa, got any emergency contraceptives in that bag of yours?”
Her sarcasm slices through the tension, and despite the mounting panic, you can’t help but laugh—a short, bitter sound. “Yeah, let’s just write to the fucking North Pole. ‘Dear Santa, I was very naughty last night. Please send condoms and a time machine.’”
She doesn’t laugh. She’s too busy pacing now, muttering under her breath as she tries to piece together a plan. “Okay, okay, maybe there’s a convenience store open somewhere. Or—fuck, do I know someone who could have contraceptives? No, that’s stupid—god, I’m so fucking stupid—”
Hanni moves like a whirlwind, her body tense and her face set as she grabs her scattered clothes off your bedroom and hallway floor. She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t even glance in your direction as she yanks her sweater over her head and hops into her underwear with sharp, jerky movements. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheet pooling around your waist, watching her with growing agony.
“Hanni, will you just fucking stop for a second?” you say, your voice low but urgent. “We need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” she snaps, still not looking at you as she grabs her jeans. “About how we were too drunk and stupid to use protection? About how I might have a goddamn Christmas baby on the way? Yeah, sounds like a super fun conversation.”
You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face. “Come on, don’t do this. We can figure it out together—”
“There’s nothing to figure out!” she interrupts, finally turning to face you, her expression a volatile mix of anger and panic. “I’m going home. I need—I just need to think. Alone.”
“Alone?” you repeat, standing up, the sheet slipping off your waist. “You’re seriously just gonna leave? What if you—”
“I’ll find a pharmacy,” she says quickly, cutting you off again. “I’ll take care of it. I just… I can’t fucking deal with this right now, okay?”
“Hanni, please,” you say, stepping closer, reaching out to grab her arm. “Don’t shut me out. I—fuck, I care about you. We’ll get through this together.”
She pulls her arm out of your grip, her jaw tight. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who could end up pregnant. You’re not the one who has to wonder how the fuck you got here with your best friend.”
This unsettles you for a moment, but before you can reply, she’s already slipping on her jacket, her hand on the doorknob. “Hanni,” you say again, softer this time, your voice almost pleading. “Stay. Please.”
She pauses, just for a second, her shoulders slumping. But then she shakes her head, her voice nothing but a whisper. “I can’t.”
And with that, she’s gone, leaving you standing in the doorway, naked, hungover, and completely fucking lost.
—
The next few weeks are a blur of radio silence and vague, clipped texts that feel more like placeholders than actual communication. Hanni texts you the morning after to say she found a pharmacy that was miraculously open on Christmas and took the pill, but that’s it. No follow-ups, no calls, just short, impersonal messages that feel like they’re written by a stranger.
You spend every day alternating between guilt, panic, and a weird, gnawing ache you can’t quite name. Every time your phone buzzes, your heart races, hoping it’s her. Half the time it’s not, and the other half it’s just more of the same: I’m fine. Just busy. Talk later.
When “later” finally comes, it’s weeks down the line. You’re sitting on your couch, staring blankly at some shitty Netflix movie you’re not even watching, when your phone rings. The sight of Hanni’s name on the screen jolts you upright, your heart pounding as you fumble to answer.
“Hanni,” you say, your voice cracking slightly. “Hey. What’s—what’s up?”
There’s a pause, and then her voice comes through, soft and hesitant. “I got my period.”
Relief floods through you so fast it almost knocks you over. “Oh, thank fuck,” you mutter, leaning back into the couch, your head tipping back against the cushions. “That’s—that’s fucking great news.”
“Yeah,” she says, but there’s no relief in her tone. Just exhaustion. “It is.”
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you like a storm cloud. Finally, you clear your throat. “Can I see you? Maybe we could grab coffee or something, just talk. I miss you, Hanni.”
She sighs, long and heavy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What…? Why not?”
“Because,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “Because I’ve spent the last few weeks losing my mind, thinking about what might have happened, what did happen. I’ve been trying to figure out how the fuck we ended up here, and I still don’t have an answer.”
“We ended up here because we were drunk and stupid,” you say quickly, your words spilling out like a defense mechanism. “But that doesn’t mean—”
“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake?” she interrupts, her tone sharper now. “Because that’s what I keep asking myself. Was this a mistake? Did we ruin everything for one fucking night of drunken stupidity?”
“Hanni,” you say, your voice low and steady. “It wasn’t just one night. Don’t pretend like you don’t feel something—”
“Of course I feel something!” she snaps, cutting you off. “That’s the fucking problem! I can’t stop thinking about it—about you. About your hands, your body, your mouth, your fucking cock. And that’s why I can’t see you right now, because if I do…” She trails off, her breath hitching.
“Because if you do, what?” you press, your chest tight.
“Because if I do, it’s gonna happen again,” she says, her voice trembling. “And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or if it’s just gonna destroy everything we had.”
“We’ve already fucked up everything we had, Hanni,” you say quietly. “The question is whether we’re gonna fix it or just throw it all away.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, bitter and broken. “I don’t know if it can be fixed. I don’t even know what it is anymore.”
“So what?” you say, your voice rising slightly. “You’re just gonna ghost me? Walk away from everything we’ve built?”
“I’m not walking away,” she says softly. “I just… I need time. To figure out what I want, what we are, what we could be. I need to get over this before I see you again. Because if I don’t…”
“I thought you loved me... I mean, you said that to me that night.”
“I wasn't ready, you understand? Not really. This wasn't how I wanted it to happen… our first time, the confession of my feelings… I just…”
She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t need to. The weight of her words hangs heavy in the silence, suffocating you.
“When will I see you?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” she replies, her voice cracking. “I really don’t.”
“Hann—”
The line cuts out, and you’re left holding the phone, staring at her name disappearing from the screen. The movie’s still playing, but it might as well not be.
You drop the phone, lean back, and close your eyes. Outside, the world moves on, but inside, it’s just silence—heavy, empty, and endless.
#Hanni#hanni smut#hanni x reader#Hanni x male reader#hanni newjeans#newjeans hanni#kpop smut#kpop angst#gg smut#kpop gg smut#kpop m!reader#kpop male oc#kpop male reader#ask me anything#m!reader#male reader#hanni pham#gg x male reader#hanni x you#m! reader#kpop x male reader#kpop gg#kpop#angst and smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
i had to get this one out of my head, scp moustashe guy OC has gnomes in his house that only he can see (and one more person)
(the funny thing is that, lorewise specific scp agents can take drugs to see and remember anomalies that dont want to be seen/remembered. and stache man is just born like this. he perceives everything. guy is just like that.he does not know what is wrong with thim )
the gnome is a little angel sent by god....
734 notes
·
View notes
Text
Before the New Year Begins… Give Khaled a Chance at Life
As the world counts down to new beginnings, I’m counting the hours, desperately fighting to keep my baby, Khaled, alive.
Khaled is only 6 months old, a tiny soul who knows nothing of w@r. He doesn’t understand why he cries from hunger or why it’s so hard for him to breathe. But I do. And it breaks me that I can’t give him the simplest of rights: food, medicine, and safety.
Every child deserves a chance to smile, to breathe, and to live without fear. Khaled deserves that chance
💔 Before the new year begins, will you help Khaled start his life with hope? Here's how you can make an impact:
Share Khaled’s story. One post could connect us to someone who can save him.
Donate today. Even the cost of your coffee can mean another day of life for Khaled.
Write a personal post. Your words can amplify his cry for help.
💡 Give Khaled the gift of life: click here to help.
Let’s come together to give my innocent baby a chance. Let’s end this year with an act of kindness that could change everything. Don’t let Khaled’s cry go unheard.
Please, I need you now more than ever. Khaled needs you. Let’s make sure this story doesn’t end here. Let’s write a story of hope together, Help me save him before it’s too late. 🤲
Please, don’t let us fade away in silence.
I’ve been verified by Nabulsi, El-Shab Hussien, and NorthGazaUpdate, 90-ghost, and I’m listed on the vetted list on 279 line.
@godspersonalclown @murenaaaaa @blue-glasses-dork @tomathomatommy @whimsical-musingss
@ctechnoblade @nerdytextileartist @helloemptyset @rhythm-of-the-wardrums @paper-mario-wiki
@punkitt-is-here @peri-requiem @antixabound @antixabound @shadowinthetrees
@charrednewt @apocalyptic-dancehall @nevert-the-guy @x-critter2022 @bigboobshaunt
@maxknightley @jesterraconteuse @ikeepforgettimypassword @averagenotnormal @jenqatower
@kingofthebookcase @funhousefreakwrites @redacted-metallum @quartzyposts @6yin6yang6
@mazm-imagines @ur-local-anxiety-gremlin @sminny-wew @ocherednoe-dno @wolf-tail
@stabbedwitharustyynail @keysmandude @hamsterlover38 @phoibos-querella @arachnidtub
@mansikka-wizard @welcometogrouchland @willowthighpillow @ssenza @shikse
@gh4ul @sundung @fandom-master-mind @aconstantallegory @proffittproductions
#free gaza#gaza#gaza under attack#gaza genocide#gaza strip#suad ahmad#free palestine#artists on tumblr#cats of tumblr#help gaza#spn#helluva boss#cozycore#photography#goodtimeswithscar#yellowjackets#saw#queer
844 notes
·
View notes
Text
'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'
(part 3/3)
I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.
As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january
Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.
I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.
That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."
Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you
546 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jason's on the side lines like "What the fuck? You broke like that?!"
And Stephanie shrugs her shoulders saying "He's got a point, plus not killing my dad is much more... Satisfying because he knows that I was close to doing it."
Hi hello I will forever be thinking about how close Steph came to straight up murdering her dad during her debut
#PREV i think all the time abt what batman says to steph here#bc already 'destroyed' is a really interesting way to refer to Stephs life and tje consequences of arthurs abuse#but Steph is a person who's both constantly put down AND oft times puts herself down#we're never given any indication of what she wants to do/be when she grows up (partially bc she's a side character-#-who only has as much inner life as serves the story BUT SHHH lemme use this real quick for characterization reasons)#when she's pregnant she says she must be a disappointment to her mom and while that's in a specific context#i think it's not completely unsubstantiated to say she might've felt that way pre-pregnancy too#Steph has virtually no supportive adults in her life (her gym coach is added later. and also deals coke in that same issue. so)#Batman saying that Steph's life isn't destroyed (and also validating the fact that Arthur DID hurt her-#-something no one but Steph seems to acknowledge (crystal at this point still enables him and steph seems to have no one else to-#-confide in)#might've been the first time in recent memory that someone treated Steph as if#a) she had a future b) she was a victim and c) she had enough worth to preserve said future (by not getting a rap sheet)#erm idk if i worded this well but YEAH had a lot of thoughts about this line wayyy back when i initially read the issue#but seeing this post and prev tags reminded me
551 notes
·
View notes
Text
🎸 vernon dates rockstar!reader. (5)
catch you when i can series masterlist ★ vernon x rockstar!reader who’s a foreigner in an international rock band 📼 part five, a.k.a the one where a choice has to be made
ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, angst, best read in order + headcanons & addtl. content under the cut. final part. ♫ part one | part two | part three | part four. ✉︎ dedicating this to vernon!rockstar anon, forever n always. ♡
🎧 suggested/accompanying listening for while you read. without further ado.
🎧 — “it's a sunday night, a night never to be trusted for emotions. so, a lot of you guys are gonna head home and either receive texts in the dead of night, or actually compose them that are not going to be fully representative of how you feel for the rest of the day, for the rest of your week.”
This is what the press know:
Six months after the two of you went public, you and Vernon made the mutual decision to end your five-year relationship. While you both remain mum on the reason behind the breakup, insider sources claim that the pressures of a high-profile, public relationship got to you both. The two of you are committed to remain good friends despite the split.
Only one out of those three 'facts' are true.
This is what the fans know:
Vernon is Mr. Perfectly Fine. There are moments where the façade slips, like when his breakup is brought up during a fansign, or somebody asks about it on Weverse. But, for the most part, he does his job and he does it well. He performs. He produces. He looks like the breakup hasn't affected him at all.
That Vernon can still function is true. That he's unaffected isn't.
This is what you know:
Vernon will be better off without you. A long-distance relationship was never going to be easy. Add in the factor of coming from two vastly different entertainment industries? Yeah, the two of you would have never worked out. You're doing more harm than good. Breaking up with Vernon is the kindest thing you can do to him. He'll get over you eventually.
You are wrong on all accounts.
This is what Vernon knows:
He loves you. Plain and simple.
He wants you. He can't remember a time where he hadn't; he can't imagine a time where he won't.
He will let you leave, let you walk away, if you think that's what's necessary. But he refuses to think that it's right. That it's fair.
In a perfect world— or at least a world that's just a little bit nicer to the both of you— he would get to keep you.
That much is true.
🎧 — “your friends, and your brain, and your morals, and your conscience have all trained you not to respond. but i'm gonna go against the grain and i'm going to suggest that the next time you get a message from the one you love, the only person in the world you love and can't talk to, that you respond.”
11203km • 17m ♫ John Mayer - Edge of Desire
11203km [🎸] welcome back. Liked by 11203km
11203km never left. — 🐻❄️
🎧 — “life is just too short to keep playing the game. 'cause if you really want somebody, you'll figure it out later. if you love someone, don't say a word. just come over.”
[FIN.]
#vernon x reader#vernon smau#vernon imagines#hansol x reader#hansol smau#hansol imagines#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#svt smau#seventeen smau#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#[ feeling super emo ab this. no one touch me. ]#[ annotations to follow :> ]
572 notes
·
View notes
Text
have this thing I wrote in a flash of pure, unadulterated love for Jason that I felt while doing my hair routine after my shower. never needed a fictional guy more in all my life and honestly this may be my personal favorite thing I’ve ever written.
Thinking about domesticity with Jason Todd. Building a home with him, a life. How ever so gradually mine and yours becomes ours.
You’re brushing your teeth one morning and decide to try out his toothpaste, the one he always buys from the bodega down the block owned by the little abuelita that loves him to death. It’s fresh and it’s minty and you swear it leaves your teeth whiter than the brand name stuff you buy, so you let your tube get used up and never buy toothpaste again. Jason, without question, simply starts buying it twice as often as usual.
You’re fresh from the shower together after a night off for both of you. You’re warm and you’re happy and you’re both so in love it almost hurts. You watch enraptured as he towel dries his hair, roughly scrunching the water from his inky curls. You don’t like how he lacks gentleness with himself, so you take the towel from him and gesture for him to lean down. Ever obedient to you, Jason complies and smiles softly as you dry his hair for him. You think suddenly that while his curls are always soft to the touch, they could do with being a bit more defined. They tend to get really frizzy and poofy by the end of the day. So you grab your curl cream and gel and just absentmindedly do your own routine on him. He raises his eyebrow in question only to quickly relent when he realizes it means you’re playing with his hair for longer. Your hunch is right; once his hair dries, his curls are so pretty you think you could get lost in the waves of them. Jason’s just happy cause now his hair smells like you.
The only clothes Jason has that are his now is his Red Hood gear. The rest of his closet has quickly become co-owned by you. His brain never fails to short circuit when you walk out in his hoodies, or his sweatpants, or his t-shirts, or his boxers. There’s not one piece of his civilian clothing that hasn’t been on both of your bodies at this point. Sometimes seeing you in his clothes has Jason blushing and his heart pounding with how much he loves you, how grateful he is to have this life with you. Other times seeing you in his clothes has him calculating the fastest way he can get them all off of you. You’re just disappointed that it can’t go both ways. But, alas, the struggles of having a massive boyfriend are that he’ll never be able to fit in your clothes. Whatever; it still does something for you when he finally wears the old Gotham Knights shirt that you’d stolen for months.
It’s also kind of funny sometimes. You two own a set of old, dark gray towels affectionately labeled “The Blood Towels”. The Blood Towels are only brought out after a really rough patrol or post-showering when you’re on your period. They came about after you’d nearly slipped while soaking wet from how quickly you’d tried to dry off to avoid bleeding on his good, fluffy towels. Jason just looked at you like you were a little ditzy, a flat “Do ya know how many times I’ve bled on these towels?” coming from his mouth. “I don’t care! I still don’t wanna ruin them!” you’d insisted. And thus, The Blood Towels were born.
Your bookshelf is never going to stop growing. You’ve actually had to go to IKEA more than once to get a larger one with how often you and Jay visit the old bookstore two blocks away from your apartment. Neither of you can resist a pretty cover, or a new annotated edition, or, heaven forbid, those rare, expensive first edition copies. At this point you’re not really sure which of the five copies of Pride and Prejudice first belonged to who, but really what does it matter when you’re both reading them anyways? And it’s always funny when you have to drag home a bigger bookshelf. You can never hold your laughter when Jason inevitably shouts “What the fuck! This wouldn’t be so goddamn hard if they actually gave you coherent instructions!” It’s also always nice to drag the old bookshelves to the apartment of the single mom downstairs whose kid loves reading. You both know she can barely afford the second hand books she gets him, so the shelves are happily given. You’re actually thinking of asking Jay if he’s willing to part with one of your first edition copies of Frankenstein for Christmas; the kid would freak.
All of this comes to a head with a cat. A big, fat, black cat that crawls up on your fire escape one night. You’d both been a little distracted–okay, a lot distracted by the feeling of being lost in each other's touch. You’d been making out for over an hour, just relishing in the intimacy of being together. It was definitely going to go somewhere until you heard the caterwauling of an animal outside your window. “The fuck is that?” Jason had asked as he pulled away from kissing bruises into your neck. “Sounds like a cat.” You’d begged, actually begged, Jason to let him stay. The next morning you came home with a grocery bag full of cat toys and bowls while Jason hauled a value-sized 40 pound bag of cat food on his shoulder. Atticus sits with you both while you watch TV now. Atticus still sometimes ruins the mood when he sees Jason sink his teeth into you and immediately swats his dad on the cheek. But Atticus is also undeniably your boy. And whatever, maybe you do start thinking about what Jason would look like with an actual baby in his arms when he’s cradling Atty as he shuffles around your home. But there’s time for that yet. You both know that. You know that beyond anything else, you’ll always have this life, this home together. It’s the best gift either of you have ever been given.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x you#remy writes 🖋️#I love him I love him I love him#you all don’t understand how much I love this man. ugh. why can’t he exist?!
540 notes
·
View notes
Text
I would like to point something out.
In Sonic 2, Knuckles stops Maddie and Tom from hugging Sonic when he’s in Super form because it’s too dangerous to touch him with all that power. He’s a god-like being at that point and is meant to remain as such but be alone. The sacrifice of being a god.
Sonic gives this up and separates from the chaos emeralds to be with him family.
Minor Spoilers below:
Sonic and Shadow touched on multiple occasions when in their super forms. Not only that, but they make it a POINT to do this. Not just punches, but when they teamed up they held hands, high-fived, and literally would REACH for each other and hold each other and throw each other and spin each other in battle to fight together.
It’s just another one of those things where I’m like—
AHHHHHH THEY’RE LITERALLY MADE FOR EACH OTHER AND UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER ON ANOTHER LEVEL AND SHDJFKLGLH SONIC LOST THE ONE PERSON WHO COULD GET HIM—
#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#sonadow#my posts#my post#Sonic movie 3#Sonic Wachowski#Tom Wachowski#maddie wachowski#knuckles the echidna#knuckles Wachowski#Keanu shadow#movie shadow#super sonic#super shadow#super Sonadow
468 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Oh.
JOHN REESE & HAROLD FINCH: RETURN OF HAIRSTYLE 2X03 | 4X21
#i have so many things I want to say#but the feelings the second gif makes me feel have hampered my ability to string words#priority: refloof#getting robbed by an undershirt#but it’s fine#it’s strangely hotter this way#maybe i’m the only one but the tie movement makes everything more endearing and attractive#TO ME#thoughts are being thunk#michael emerson#the man that you are#harold finch#person of interest#poi
348 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tbh the older i get the less sexual i see destiel like yes they can make love but i feel like once dean finally settles and finds a cozy lifestyle he doesn’t feel the need for crazy rough sex anymore. To me, dean’s sexuality was always because of his lack of emotional connection with everyone in his life. Which is why he’s always throwing himself at any woman that gives him the time of day. He craves connection but he knows the only way he can get it as a hunter is to have one-night stands. So when he finally does settle down and meets someone who is attracted to him because of his soul and his inner beauty, he doesn’t want to ravage. He wants love and warmth. And castiel’s first experience with sex, (or sex with dean if you’re being canon-compliant) is something more human and soft, unlike how most of his angel brothers and sisters are bold and rough (in terms of personality). So, though i do like the concept of them craving each other so bad that they destroy the bed, i so much prefer them being gentle and soft with each other and it being less for sexual desire and more for love.
548 notes
·
View notes