conorchristopher:

qedavathegrey:

qedavathegrey:

ITS ALMOST TIME‼️

i did it. i listened. and now i’m a WRECK.

for instance, remember that time florence held me by the hair, kicked me directly in the teeth and then threw my body into a ravine?

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys:

illputaspellonyou:

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys:

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys:

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys:

thebaconsandwichofregret:

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys:

Okay no one on Tumblr that I’ve seen has been talking about the wine and cheese thing, but that means no one is reflecting on the absolute weapons-grade hilarity of Boris Johnson trying to inchworm his way out of trouble by claiming that he didn’t know about it

Like… that wine and cheese party was the Downing Street works Christmas do. Not just any old social, the Christmas social. There were invitations. There was music. Every single worker in Downing Street was invited, even Debbie from accounts. People who didn’t work there but were important to the government got invited.

And Boris is therefore claiming that all his mates got together and had a party and DIDN’T INVITE HIM.

Not only that, but they deliberately kept it a secret from him, because no one wanted him there to ruin the party because no one likes him, and I just…

The key difference between Johnson and Trump always came down to this: Johnson wants to be liked. He genuinely does. Trump wanted to be respected and feared and obeyed, he wanted to be seen as powerful and suave and cool. But he didn’t care about how liked he was. Johnson, though, really fucking does. He’s a deeply pathetic little twat, and he wants people to like him.

So, his choices currently are

1. Tell everyone in the country that his own friends and coworkers actually cannot stand him, to the point that they arranged an entire Christmas party without him
2. Admit that he was there and immediately be hated by literally every single human being in the country, including his own voters (hello North Shropshire), because while the rest of us spent Christmas 2020 in a lockdown and unable to see each other and in many cases literally alone, him and his mates held an illegal Christmas party that the police are refusing to investigate

His popularity is now nosediving in the polls, and it really cannot be stated how much that will be burning him.

Also, pro-Brexit Tories are even pissed off with him now. Which is a bit like someone buying a cake called a pus cake with pictures of pus all over the box and a warning sign that says This Cake Contains Pus and Other Bodily Fluids, and then crying because when they tried to eat the pus cake they found it was filled with pus. But also really funny.

Anyway, I’m placing the bet now: we will see a vote of no confidence, OR he’ll jump before he has to experience that (because it would kill him), and our next PM will be Rishi Sunak

And don’t forget

THEY HAD THIS PARTY IN THE HOUSE HE LIVES IN!

He’s trying to claim that all his friends and colleagues hosted a party IN THE HOUSE HE LIVES IN while he was upstairs apparently totally oblivious!

He really thinks we’re that stupid to believe that a party could be happening literally TWO FLOORS BELOW him and he not know?

Omg omg I forgot that part and you are so right

They had a secret Christmas party that was so big that they were sending out invites to non government members which they didn’t want him at, so they… what, had his mistress drug him with hefty amounts of antihistamines? He went out for the evening (also illegal at the time) and they partied hard on cheese and wine for precisely two hours and 46 minutes, then everyone went silent and snuck out when he came back?

A whole team of cleaners had to tiptoe about for four hours so they wouldn’t wake up the clown upstairs.

What a cover story.

Okay well this story has… Wow.

So, let’s update for those who don’t know. Bear with me, I may get a couple of dates slightly wrong. First, shout out to the incredible investigative journalism and absolutely chessmaster-level shrewdness of Pippa Crerar for both digging up this story and for picking precisely the right moments to release it, morsel by morsel, to bring down Boris Johnson and possibly the whole damn government.

So after Johnson claimed he didn’t know about it, then the Mirror published photos showing he was there and hosted a quiz. So, undeniable, Boris was at the Christmas party.

The Metropolitan Police declare that, even though they are investigating and fining people up to £12,000 a pop for lockdown parties, and doing so is literally their job, they will not investigate the government because “there isn’t enough evidence”. ACAB etc

Then, the Guardian reveals photos of Boris Johnson, his mistress, and Dominic Cummings eating cheese and drinking wine in the sun (with others around them) in the Downing Street garden, not allowed at the time (we were literally not allowed to leave home at the time). That day, Matt Hancock urges people not to have cheese and wine parties in their own gardens in spite of the nice May weather.

Then the Mirror reveals that there was actually another whole ass party - in May 2020, where 30 gathered in the garden of Downing Street (at the time we were not allowed more than 2 households meeting outside). Boris denies that it was a party, and claims it was merely a weirdly well catered work event that included his gin-drinking mistress and baby for some reason.

Then, the invites to the party were leaked by ITV. Turns out, 100 people were invited “to make the most of the lovely weather.” It also told attendees to “bring their own booze.”

Then an inquiry begins, carried out by Sue Gray. She is in fact a member of Number 10 staff, but no idea how independent she’ll actually be one way or the other. Either way, the police are still literally refusing to investigate so lmao that’s what we’ve got. She did get Damien Green fired for that porn thing, though, so that’s encouraging.

Then this week, Johnson goes on Prime Minister’s Questions. He sort of apologises, and claims that he was only there for 25 minutes but implies he then left because it felt more like an illegal social than the work event he was expecting, which is interesting, since his mistress was necking gin next to him the whole time. He should have just asked her, like. She could have clarified.

Then the Times reveals a source at the party who says that no, Boris stayed WAAAYYYY longer and spent his time wandering around and ‘gladhanding’ people (side note, posh people have weird words).

Then yesterday, even though we now have evidence and a confession of criminality, the Met Police announce that they will not investigate unless/until the Gray Inquiry finds evidence of criminality, which is just…an astonishingly open display of corruption, really. A real quiet-part-loud moment.

THEN, within hours, it’s revealed that there were ANOTHER TWO PARTIES, except… Okay you’re going to want to sit down, because shit hit the fan yesterday.

These two parties happened on the day of Prince Philip’s funeral last year, aka Put Philip In The Floor Day. At the time, restrictions meant just 30 people could attend that funeral.

Which means, the Telegraph ran this headline and image:

I know we all hate the royals on Tumblr, but you have to understand just how hard that headline, and that image, and that message, hits British society. The Queen, beloved monarch, “forced to grieve alone” while the government danced and drank the night away. You cannot imagine how much power that image holds. You cannot begin to imagine the social power of it.

Boris Johnson can. He was polling only one point above Theresa May’s all time low within the hour. That is a devastating popularity drop for the man who needs to be loved, who came to power on a cult of personality.

So, he went on PMQs again, to apologise to Lizzie Two. It’s a really funny apology because he kind of can’t apologise without admitting it and there’s an enquiry going on so it’s real vague, but he does cop to the parties on Put Philip In The Floor Day. Keir Starmer, in a rare display of actually providing some opposition, put the boot in quite nicely:

Well, there we have it. After months of deceit and deception, the pathetic spectacle of a man who’s run out of road.

His defence, that he didn’t realise he was at a party, is so ridiculous that it’s actually offensive to the British public. 

He’s finally been forced to admit what everyone knew that when the whole country was locked down, he was hosting boozy parties in Downing Street. 

Is he now going to do but decent thing and resign?

Which brings us to today! How is the Prime Minister coping with the situation?

Well, according to a leak from the Independent, he literally spent today working out which senior officials he can force to resign and take the blame in order to save himself in a move that he, a grown man who has fathered six or possibly seven children who is Prime Minister of the country, is without irony calling, and I am not making this up…

Operation Save Big Dog.

Big Dog is him. He is Big Dog. He has called himself Big Dog. He chose to call himself Big Dog.

Except, the Independent leaked it, as I say, so now he looks EVEN WORSE.

And Then

The Mirror’s front page for tomorrow is revealed.

They have a photo of a wine fridge (capable of holding up to 34 bottles of wine) being delivered to Number 10.

Because, they reveal, these parties were not special events only.

Downing Street has been holding what they called Wine Time Fridays every week during the pandemic. They used to hold them before as well; but apparently, they’ve been particularly popular during lockdown.

Current polling as of 14th January 2022:

Labour 41%

Tories 27%

Those figures would translate to the Tories losing over 126 seats. Labour’s largest lead since Tony Blair.

Side note to finish off for now:

Interesting how we now know a good 100 people who was at those parties, complete with photos, and yet Rishi Sunak is not in any of them. One might almost call it suspicious. And wonder at who the main source is.

HOO BOY THE CIRCUS IS IN TOWN THIS WEEK LADS

I will try to keep this concise, and I will put in a Read More because fuck this is like… metres of political intrigue. Although first, quick housekeeping because I’m fed up of seeing some stuff turning up in the notes:

1. Americans stop being smug in the notes challenge. Just enjoy the clowns quietly.
2. It is not misogynistic to refer to Carrie Johnson as Big Dog’s mistress, you tedious voles, that’s literally what she was when he cheated on his cancer-suffering wife with her. He also dumped his wife, mid-chemotherapy, to shack up with Carrie Antoinette over there. I do not give the tiniest iota of shit that they are now married, and given that the UK press has spent two years trying to make their relationship into a fairytale princess situation, I will continue to brand her his mistress until the inevitable day he cheats on her with yet another younger model and fathers his eighth or ninth child (not an inaccurate number, this man has Disputed Children with other mistresses he refuses to take a paternity test for)
3. EXERCISE A MODICUM OF CRITICAL THINKING AND STOP ACCUSING ME OF THINKING RISHI SUNAK IS A GOOD ALTERNATIVE. I HAVE NOT SAID ANYWHERE THAT HE IS. ONLY THAT HE’S GUNNING FOR IT.

With that out of the way, it’s the 20th January 2022, let’s watch the elephant stand on a ball!

Earlier This Week

Let’s check the polls, after the fun of last week!

70% think he’s lying about the May 20th party, 63% think he should resign, 80% think he has not been honest, and 81% think the ‘work event’ that Big Dog described was unacceptable anyway.

But, how does that translate to politics? Well! The Police and Crime Bill is a monstrous piece of fascist legislation that the Tories are currently trying to get passed. This week it passed to the House of Lords. This would normally have been a very straightforward run through to the Queen to sign off, but LOL SOME PEOPLE ARE VERY BITTER ABOUT THE CHEESE AND WINE because instead the Lords have literally thrown out three of the worst elements.

Yes, you read that right. That Bill we’ve all been terrified about?

The Lords have rejected:

• Allowing stop and search at protests without suspicion
• Banning people with a “history of serious disruption” from attending protests
• Making it an offence to disrupt the operation of key national infrastructure, like an airport or a newspaper printer

And then, just to rub salt in the wound, they approved two non-Tory amendments, including making misogyny a hate crime. In practice, those two amendments will now go back to the Commons to be debated more, but those three central pillars up there are just gone now. The Lords described the proposals  as “draconian”, “a wider assault on our democracy”, and “reminiscent of Cold War Eastern Bloc police states”.

Never thought I’d see the day…

So, Boris the Big Dog realises he’s in serious trouble now, because that means that even MPs who supported him now hate him because his actions are costing them the fascist laws they wanted to put in place. So he has a meeting with the one Tory you can absolutely count on to blindly and incompetently support Boris Johnson regardless of literally anything he ever does - enter, Nadine Dorres.

She suggests a zippy new ploy. he needs to shore up support from the backbenchers if he’s to survive it, so she suggests he give them everything they’ve been asking for like a gift wrapped Christmas gift of shit, and they call it Operation Red Meat, because neither of them is bright enough to consider notnaming their illicit backroom plans to let them go undetected, and also, they learned nothing at all from Operation Save Big Dog. Here’s the problem: Tory backbenchers are fucking lunatics. Like, this is your mad Tory uncle who thought the highlight of 2021 was that we put a picture of a crown on beer glasses again TAKE THAT EUROPE. So what bones did Big Dog throw these people?

• Threatening to cut the BBC license fee, costing them billions
• Also ending all covid restrictions
• Asking the military to protect against asylum seekers crossing the channel so they have to go to Rwanda and Ghana for processing instead

Except cutting the BBC alienates a chunk of the core Tory votership, which is old people.

(Remember Ghana, it’s going to be relevant in a sec)

And, it turns out, while the BBC has been very effectively muzzled by the Tories, if you then try to take away their funding anyway… they just might remember they have teeth after all.

THE CIRCUS CONTINUES, let’s see some acrobats!

Keep reading

This is the clearest, most concise, informative and definitely FUCKING FUNNIEST description of what UK’s been up to in the last weeks. Mainstream press could never.

@becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys, is it ok to share this post outside of tumblr? Because I feel like anyone who’s been to exhausted to so much as look at news lately will very much appreciate your reporting.

Yeah, sure. I’m aware that anything I’m going to post on this blog is basically public domain, so go mad!

rpepperpotshipssciencebros:

ironicallyxspiders:

thisdiscontentedwinter:

athenadark:

i-cannot-live-without-coffee:

Disclaimer 1: This will probably get a little NSFW.

Disclaimer 2: Symptoms of periods vary from period-haver to period-haver. It pretty much sucks for everyone, though.

Disclaimer 3: I have a high pain tolerance. Really high. If I say something is really painful, it is really fucking painful.

And now for the reasons why having periods suck and it’s worse for us to have it than for you to hear about it:

1. There is blood coming from our vaginas. This is a very unpleasant feeling. We cannot “hold it.” Some people get a light trickling. Some, like me, get a Goddamn crime scene.
2. The ways to keep from bleeding all over everything include a pad, which basically feels like a diaper, and a tampon, which is basically shoving a cotton pipe up there, is not as much fun as it sounds, and can be very uncomfortable if done wrong. And doing it right is fairly hard. Thanks to good old Catholic sex ed, it took me about five years to figure out.
3. Cramps. I am lucky in that my cramps tend not to be THAT bad (thank you, high pain tolerance), but some get cramps so bad that the pain is comparable to appendicitis.
4. Headaches. What I lack in cramps, I often make up for in headaches. And not just any headaches. Agonizing headaches. They can start up to a week before the bleeding starts, they last a few days into it, and they don’t go away. No matter how much aspirin you take. Seriously, when I get menstrual headaches, I could down an entire fucking bottle of Advil and I’d probably die but my ghost would still have the headache.
5. Acne. I’m talking looking like Deadpool under the mask.
6. Indigestion. It isn’t fun.
7. Bloating.
8. Sometimes my actual vaginal region hurts. A lot. Enough to have me doubled over on the floor.
9. For some reason my anxiety gets worse sometimes around my period. Which is extra fun. There’s nothing like nearly calling the morgue because your dad was late from a basketball game, only to find out he was at Applebee’s.
10. Fatigue. Because I’m doing everything I normally do while my body is staging a mutiny.
11. Backache.
12. Just generally feeling disgusting.
13. This goes on for a week.
14. This happens every Goddamn month.
15. This generally starts around age twelve or so and lasts until maybe age 45.
    

16. Pads will dry out your vaginal regions and make them itchy. Really REALLY itchy

17. Tampons come in three sizes, too small to do any good, not quite big enough and i think this is a sheep

18, menstrual cups are brilliant if you get them in right, this will happen maybe once a period. You will not know if it’s right until you discover it’s wrong when it leaks.

19. you will run at least two degrees hotter, and up to four degrees hotter at night. Sleep is clearly for other people as you do the too hot too cold quilt exercise all night

20. you will sleep on your side because you are paranoid that you’ve put you cup/tampon in wrong and your pad won’t catch the flow

21. crime scene periods get more frequent as you get older

22. your period will not conform to any cycle, it will range between 2-5 days every 28-32 days, this will change for reasons - what those reasons are your body will not inform you

23. Fatigue for no reason is common - it might be because you’ve worn yourself out trying to get to sleep.

24. Period panties are a must, these are generally black cotton monstrosities that cover you from waist to crotch area, they’re black because they will get stained.

25. Paranoia is normal. No, you probably aren’t leaking but you’re sure you are.

26. The smell. Periods have a smell and you will be paranoid everyone in a mile’s radius will be aware of it. 

27. you will shed more hair than usual, this can be up to three times as much. You’re not going bald, it will just look like it.

28. You will randomly dislike foods you previously liked and will like them again when the period is over

29. Chocolate does help, it’s not a myth, the darker the chocolate the better, and any threats to people who have stolen your chocolate are totally justified. Ibuprofen and a hot water bottle are also wonderful.

30. You will almost certainly, especially with cramps, feel like you really need to use the bathroom, you don’t, your body just makes it feel like you really need to.

17. Tampons come in three sizes, too small to do any good, not quite big enough and i think this is a sheep

And sometimes even the sheep will be too small to get you through the night. 

31. When you DO use tampons, the overwhelming fear in the back of your mind that you’re about to suddenly develop Toxic Shock Syndrome because they told you about it in biology when you were 12 and have been terrified of it ever since.

32. Period poops. It is, in fact, possible to be both constipated and have diarrhea at the same time. It is very unpleasant.

33. Period pukes. Then having to deal with the consequences of that for the rest of the cycle :)

whelvenwings:

can you imagine having the opportunity to do something so hoped-for, so bold, so meaningful, so defiant of expectation, so perfectly paralleled to the core message of your show itself, and deciding instead to put jared padalecki in a bad wig and call it a day

Please, I just need some power bottom!Ayato x whipped top!Thoma agenda. Please.

d’you ever just lose your mind and come up with the worst product imaginable and then make ads for it

and a bonus one that i didn’t fully finish but i think it gives it something special

mqqnfxllen-deactivated20220212:

… so you can imagine my shock when I found out that they do, in fact, both die at the end.

I recently had a day where I realized that with all of *these things* I had to deal with, *that thing* was going to be what broke the camels back, or rather, what broke me. So I explained to my husband that I was on the edge of a cliff and handed *that thing* off to him.

It was marvelous. He’s taking care of it completely. I mean, no guarantee everything else that’s going on and has been going on for some time won’t drive me absolutely batshit crazy, but at least I had this one moment of maturity.

ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴜᴍʙ

a/n: nobody asked for this. i didn’t even ask for this. liking reigen is a disease and im here to spread the virus. may we find the cure. only dolly parton can save us now.

reigen arataka x gn!reader, foul language, established relationship, mental health talk, reigen calls you a bitch, mentions of vomit, and somehow this is fluff, (1.7k wc)

When Reigen asks when you fell for him, you pretend to think about it. You don’t really have to think about it, but you do have to think about if you want to tell him. He might not be all too pleased to hear it, though you’ve never really cared about coddling his feelings. Even though you are comfortable with him, this relationship of yours is less than a year old and there’s still a lot of unopened doors.

So you tell him the half truth, that you’ve always noticed him.

And it’s true - he’s not not a good-looking guy, and he appeared decently put together when you first met him. It’s not that you thought he was perfect, or even trying to be perfect, but his casual welcoming air at first introduction seemed calculated. You could tell he wanted something, not necessarily from you, but it’s almost as if you could see a pyramid of desire and him balancing on the point of junction at the top. Despite the tension of it, it seemed dull to you - certainly not any way you’d want to live your life, or even attempt to support someone living it. But call it whatever you want, you knew there was something about him, or maybe even wanted there to be something.

He seems satisfied with your answer. Smug bastard, but you’ll let him believe it. In turn, you ask him the same question back.

“Well, of course I thought you were attractive when I first introduced myself, but I also thought you were kind of a bitch,” he says way too candidly. One of the many reasons you hate being attached to him.

“I said only kind of!” He offers in defense when he sees your scowl. “But I really fell for you on my birthday last year, my twenty-eighth.”

“The night I found you puking your guts up in an alleyway?” You recall. Funny that he would say that.

“I call it personal growth.”

“You kept saying over and over that you thought you were gonna shit yourself between barfing,” you remind him. Ripping the sugar coating off his bullshit is always fun for you.

“Like I said: personal growth. Purging myself of toxic build-up and stuff,” he says and waves his hand flippantly. “And it must’ve worked, because you showed up.”

“Oh.”

You blink. He never delivers praise or appreciation in a way that you can take seriously. But for once, he seems sincere. Not in a cheesy way, and rare enough for you to feel a little self-conscious.

“And you rubbed my back, and convinced me not to strip down naked to shit in the alley,” he adds.

“I would have fallen for you anyway,” you tell him with a small laugh to try and keep your heart from beating too fast. Part of what you like about your relationship with him is that you don’t have to worry about serious feelings and conversations and the anxiety of being misunderstood that comes with them.

“Wait, I thought you already had?” He says, focusing in on you with a sheepish look that you return with a tight-lipped smile. Might as well tell him the truth.

“Well, I mean, I was down to maybe fuck you out of crushing desperation and loneliness before, but seeing you so pathetic that night made me like you - against my better judgement.”

He stares at you hard, face showing some kind of strong, unreadable expression. You fend off the urge to laugh, though you do worry that, like him, you’re being too honest.

“I mean, it was nice to see you so human. Not schmoozing, not pretending, not calculating. Just suffering for drinking yourself sick,” you explain.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, which is slightly concerning. Reigen always has something to say in response to everything, especially when you’re being cheeky with him. Ever the menace, he lets your unease simmer just a little more.

“You know, there’s something I never told you about that night,” he says, making your heart jump and squeeze at the same time. There’s no cause for alarm in his voice, but the words still have you anticipating.

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“Oh, food poisoning. I see,” you nod slowly. Perhaps it would’ve been better for your opinion of his sanity to keep thinking for the rest of your life that he was drunk, but you’ve had enough experiences with bad sushi to know that stomach viruses can get the best of anybody.

“It could have been,” he muses. “But I think I was so disgusted with myself that my body was trying to kill me.”

Oh. Wow.

“I remember thinking that I was rotten, that I was rotting on the inside, so much that it was making my head spin. Next thing I knew, I was retching against the brick. It felt like I was going to die and that I deserved to go in such a sorry way.”

This is not-

“I swear I even saw the gates into the next life,” he laughs at himself to acknowledge that he probably sounds insane. He’s well aware that he’s known for exaggerating the truth, so he knows better than to expect you to believe him. “And it’s not some golden metal rolling gate like in the paintings. That’s why it felt so real.”

-what you were expecting.

“But even though I felt so disgusting and my body and mind were doing such horrible things to me, I didn’t want to go.”

Your heart clenches. You never knew that he was capable of feeling like that. The Reigen you know doesn’t get affected by anything. Though now it makes sense, that maybe he does and he just ignores it until it wants to kill him.

“Next thing I knew, I felt your hand on my back. It took me a while to hear your voice, but I could feel your thumb moving on my shoulder. It guided me back, and kept me grounded. I don’t know if I could’ve stayed tethered without it.”

The way he’s speaking, you would think he’s always been so open with you. It sounds like he’s telling you something mundane and ordinary, and not that you saved his fucking life. You don’t really know what to say. You feel like you should be crying, and yet he’s not leaving you any room to feel any kind of mournful.

So you simply reach out to him with your hand, holding the side of his face, some stubble scratching against the heel of your palm as you brush a thumb over his cheekbone in such a gentle way that he smiles a little. You’re not sure if you’ve ever looked him in the eye like this before, though it feels familiar. You recall feeling the same way when you dropped him off at his office the night you found him - apprehensive yet curious and completely powerless to whatever it is that compels you to want to be with him.

Maybe you wanted to help him, though he’s never asked for it and will act like he doesn’t need it. In reality, he hasn’t actually needed it. He’s surprised you nearly every step of the way with the shit he gets away with. You’ve come to learn that you don’t really need to worry about him in a traditional sense. Yet here he is, telling you that you did indeed help him.

“Be any more vulnerable with me, and I might just fall in love with you for real,” you say to him, a playful lilt in your voice that you hope he can read.

He chuckles lightly through his nose, bringing his hand up to cover yours. He mirrors the soft movement of your thumb.

“Can’t have that now. That would be terrible,” he teases. Even if you both believe it. Even if it’s far too late.

“The absolute worst.”

You guide your lips to his. He tastes like cigarettes and barbecue chips, and you gave up a long time ago on trying to convince yourself that you hate it. It’s always hard to pull away from him, his lips never failing to fit annoyingly in line with yours, but you open your eyes and draw back for a moment. The way your chest feels unfit to contain your heart when you look at him, it makes you desperate to distract yourself with kissing him deeper. However, you try to let the feeling settle rather than fighting or burying it.

“I’m glad you didn’t fall for me sooner,” he says. “You’d have shit taste.”

“I fell for a man who was puking and having an existential crisis in an alleyway in the middle of the night, and you don’t think I have shit taste?”

“Nah,” he waves off. “That was when I said I’d be better. And that’s when I started trying to be better.”

“You literally couldn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t throw up on you.”

“I-” You stop and sigh. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” he responds, smirking like the bastard he is. “If you like that, then you’re in for it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, though it’s soft and so out of place from his usual way of speaking that it grips you as something harsh would. “Gotta be as good as your thumb felt on my shoulder that night.”

You stop it there by pressing into him again for another kiss, more heated to guarantee that you won’t have to reveal anything deeper - like maybe you also remember the feel of his shirt under your palm as you brushed your thumb against him that night, hoping that he would feel that you cared about him through the subtle and tender movement.

Maybe there will never be a need to exchange the sentiment in words, for you notice the way his thumbs trace against your skin as he kisses you, or when you sit together on the couch, or when he grabs your hand on the train. You make sure to return the gesture, grounding him, grounding you together.

ADULT CONTENT BLOG - Minors / Ageless & Blank Blogs are allowed to like and comment on this post, but please refrain from reblogging, and ABSOLUTELY DO NOT FOLLOW OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED