#go johnny go go go go

[go-johnny-go-go-go-go]

"Are we playing for money?" "That's the only way to play, doc!"

The League of Gentlemen Live Again! (2018) - Go Johnny Go Go Go Go!

[nahokura]

I made my dad say "go, johnny, go, go, go, go!" (We're french and he doesn't want to watch shows with subtitles)

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[poison-p1nk]

silverhand. 🤘

[bitterrfruit]

sharing is caring

[poirott]

Columbo / Murder, She Wrote crossover (fanmade)

Lt. Columbo (Peter Falk) and Jessica Fletcher (Angela Lansbury) becoming besties and solving cases together ♥

[edgy-senju]

HAPPY JOJODAY AND MERRY SBR ANIME ANNOUNCEMENT TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE, WE WON

[morganbritton132]

There comes a time in every Robins life where they realize that crying will actually get them out of this.

[sidsinning]

By far the best glow up of the season

[creepycoffins]

we steel we ball we run

[obii-wan]

"Johnny is... Johnny" The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) | Dir. Mark Matt Shakman

[rosecarr67]

I still can't believe that in the official published John Winchester's Journal, it is stated outright that 7 year old Sam was accused of murder and consequently 12 year old Dean killed a Hunter to save Sammy from kidnap/murder.

No fucking wonder nobody wants them around.

Imagine, John Winchester rolls up with two scrawny kids. The younger one is whispered to be of the devil, the older is headed straight for prison if what everyone says about him is true, and he's got a gun weighing down the pocket of his little boy coat.

[sillyswriting]

: ̗̀➛ ex-friend with benefits simon 'ghost' riley & friend with benefits johnny 'soap' mactavish - 03

cw : sexual theme, sexism

ㅤㅤ     ㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤ collection - prev ⋆ next

the week had been miserable for all three of you—johnny, simon, and you.

after his little burst of cockiness in the gym, and once all the endorphins had left your brain, you realized what you had done. you had been caught having sex in public by a superior officer. the fact that said officer had enjoyed the show didn’t really matter in your mind. you could have lost your job—over what? a man’s pride?

you had a fight with johnny the next day, and it pissed you off when all he could say was, "he's no gaun'ae say anythin'." it only made you angrier, so you lashed out, calling him a child and saying he didn’t take anything seriously—words you didn’t even believe. but they spilled freely from your mouth, riling up the sergeant.

"aye, bonnie, if ye didnae feel the need tae get fucked by every damn soldier on this base, maybe ah wouldnae feel the need tae prove mine's fuckin' bigger!" he had shouted, not even thinking.

johnny had always been hot-headed—his biggest flaw. outside the battlefield, he rarely thought before he acted. that was exactly why he hadn’t stopped fucking you when he saw simon watching. and it was exactly why you weren’t speaking to him now.

he saw the tears in your eyes the second the words left his lips, and regret hit him like a punch to the gut. but it was too late—the damage was done. he wasn’t one for slut-shaming—hell, if anyone deserved that label, it was him. there was nothing shameful about enjoying sex.

the worst part was that when you left the room, tears streaming down your cheeks, you stumbled into simon. judging by the anger on his face, you figured he had heard johnny’s words too.

why the fuck was he always around? you couldn't even wallow in your shame and pain in peace.

after that, johnny had spent the worst week of his life. first, because you wouldn't let him talk to you, and second, because his lieutenant was making his life a living hell. he knew it was payback for what happened at the gym, but also for what he had said to you.

simon had stumbled upon you two screaming at each other—again, completely by accident. he had been looking for johnny for a demolition training and was just about to walk into the room people said johnny was in when your shouting stopped him in his tracks.

after johnny’s little stunt, simon had relished in your anger—after all, it looked like you were about to end things for good. he felt a twinge of guilt over how much he enjoyed it, but johnny had played dirty. simon could too. he might have lost a battle, but the war wasn’t over.

and simon knew—he had fucked up. whatever went wrong between you two, that was on him. but he also knew his own strengths, his ability to win you over if given the chance. for a while, he’d convinced himself that what you had with johnny was something deeper, something he couldn’t compete with.

but looking at you now, seething, furious in a way you’d never been with him… maybe johnny had fucked up even worse.

for johnny, you had crossed the line when he got back to his room one night and found your favorite hoodie of his lying on his bed. washed. smelling like detergent.

he could take your anger, your silence, but this was far worse. it was as if you had stabbed him in the heart. you were giving up on him. he wasn't going to let you go this easily. he was not his lieutenant.

he had rushed to your room. it was late, but that didn’t matter—he knew your sleeping schedule like the back of his hand. just like he knew you. every habit, every little quirk. what you had together was rare, something he’d never find again. and he’d be damned if he let you slip away without a fight.

you opened the door, unsurprised to find johnny standing there—you had been expecting him. you knew the hoodie would get a reaction. deep down, you didn’t want him to let you go. but you weren’t about to apologize for creating distance. he was the one who had fucked up, not you.

within seconds, he had you cornered, and god, did he look miserable. he was clutching the hoodie in his hands, and you swore you saw tears in his eyes. not that you could judge—you probably looked just as miserable.

seeing only pain in your eyes—no anger, no frustration, just pure sadness—johnny let the hoodie slip from his grasp. his hands found your cheeks, cradling them gently as he kissed you with a passion so raw, so full of devotion, that it brought tears to your eyes. in that kiss, you felt everything—just how much you meant to him, just how desperately he needed you.

"ye've na idea hou much i regret whit i said, baby," johnny murmured, pressing soft kisses over every inch of your face. "i'm the biggest slut i know anyway—so whit ye did before me, wha it wis wi? doesnae matter. niver did."

as you looked into his eyes, you saw nothing but raw honesty.

"i wis a richt arsehole," he admitted, his voice low and sincere as he lifted you effortlessly. his hands kneaded your ass, holding you close like he was afraid to let go.

as you whispered that you forgave him, johnny’s brain short-circuited. that was all he needed. before you knew it, he had you naked on the bed, his head buried between your thighs. he worshiped you like a man starved, not even caring about himself. his tongue and fingers worked relentlessly, driven by the sweet, desperate sounds falling from your lips.

after pulling two orgasms from you with his mouth alone, johnny only stopped because you begged him to fuck you. but he wasn’t having any of that. "nah, bonnie. no just fuckin’ ye—this is gonna be special."

and special it was. every touch, every movement was filled with raw emotion and unfiltered pleasure—something neither of you had ever felt before.

"m'sorry, bonnie," johnny murmured, his hips never faltering. his lips stayed on your neck, kissing, nipping, claiming. his grunts had turned into soft, desperate whines—like he physically couldn't stand being without you. "missit ye sae fuckin’ much… can’t think straicht whan you’re mad at me."

this was different from all your other times. even back in scotland, there had always been something primal. but now, this felt real. and just like that, overwhelmed, happy tears streamed down your cheeks as you moaned beneath him—blissed out, utterly lost in him. you had never felt happier.

"baby?" johnny whined, his hips faltering. just as he was about to pull out, you gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer. your legs wrapped around his hips, locking him in place, making it impossible for him to move away.

without a single word, johnny understood—and that was when you both knew what you had was real. he held you close, cooing softly in your ear, whispering sweet nothings as he kissed away your tears. his touch was tender, grounding, but his hips told a different story. the slow, deliberate roll of his pelvis against yours built a friction that had you both spiraling, lost in the pleasure only you could give each other.

simon was miserable. he’d come to apologize, maybe even work up the courage to ask you out—depending on your answer. but as he got closer to your door, he heard something that shattered whatever foolish hope he had left.

"i love you, bonnie. so fuckin’ much." johnny’s voice was wrecked, a desperate whine between the sounds of your pleasure.

simon turned on his heel, forcing himself to walk away, but your voice still carried through the hallway, chasing him down.

"i love you, johnny." soft. sweet. final.

as simon shut the door to his own room—far from yours—he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

he hadn’t just lost a battle. he had lost the war.

[quarterlifekitty]

Weaknesses part 5: complexes

Note: this is jokes!! Please don’t take my cartoon pathologizing too seriously!

cw: some daddy kink level stuff

Gaz has a soft spot for girls who suffer from oldest sister syndrome. Girls that are a little world weary and too grown up at too young an age from caring for others while not having people to rely on. He just loves how pleasantly surprised you are literally every time he does something helpful that you didn’t ask him to do. Doing the dishes. Spackling that hole from the picture you took down. Refilling the air in the tires. Bleaching the bathtub. Very small things— but you’re so used to being the only one who can stay on top of things. Literally the high he gets from telling you to sit down and relax is unparalleled.

Soap is, quite frankly, into girls who grew up thinking they were ugly. It’s a terribly selfish, but he likes telling you all of the dirty things he thinks of doing to you, how he feels like someone’s knocked him upside the head when you enter a room in a new outfit, how he has to take a cold shower every time you’re going out to some event and he gets to see you dressed up. Honestly, he has to take the cold showers pretty regularly. Seeing how you’re flustered, and you don’t 100% believe the things he says— so he has to put in the time to make you believe him. You’re the kind of girl boys would dare each other to ask out in middle school, and now Soap has the absolute pleasure of convincing you that sometimes you make him so turned on that he thinks he’s about to throw up.

Ghost likes outcast girls. He likes how you eye him with a little bit of suspicion when he chooses to hang around you. He sort of gets this idea in his head that he’s the only one that can handle your eccentricities— handle you. That other people are afraid to approach you but he’s not afraid of anything. That his interest in you is because honestly, he has a much more refined palate than any of the shitheads you’re surrounded by. And you know what? He likes the idea of you as a couple being the scary, freak ass couple. Two lone wolves becoming mates.

Price likes former gifted students. He loves that you’re talented and quick, yes, but he also can’t help but get excited by all of that pressure that’s on you— that you put on yourself. He gets to be the one that relieves it. He’s the one that gets to lavish you in praise, and he’s also the one who gets to pin you down and force you to take it easy for a little while. He loves gently handling any mistakes or missteps, rationally perceived or otherwise. Because he can tell no one’s ever bothered to treat you so gently, have they, sweetheart? They’ve just been content to push you to your limits and have you run yourself ragged because you’re special. You are, he won’t deny it— but you’re also a little thing that hasn’t seen enough nurturing, in his eyes.

König loves so called “high maintenance” girls. Girls with high standards who know what they want, who have gone through some partners that couldn’t take the heat. He gets a very unique sense of control out of it— knowing all of your rules, rituals, likes, dislikes. Like Ghost, he likes thinking of himself as the only person who knows how to handle you— that everyone before him has just been unworthy of you. That he is strong where others have been weak. And you know what? It’s not rotten work. Not to him. Not if it’s you. He’s just built different.

Nikolai… I’m just going to say it. He likes girls with daddy issues. He kinda throws his whole self into relationships at times, and he likes it when he can be your everything. Your love, your friend, your hero, your source of approval from an older man. And he loves a brat. Because he knows you only act that way because someone didn’t pay attention to his special girl in the past. You’re testing him— daring him, unsheathing your claws to see if he’ll flinch and he never will. He’ll endure it all and chip at your defenses until you’re the soft, satisfied, sweet girl he knows you really want to be. Lavishing you with praise and attention, bragging about you to anyone who will listen. He wants you to have a complete breakdown because you’ve been holding it all in and putting up walls for so long that you don’t even know how to cope with being in the arms of someone who will always catch you when you fall.

[thisnoah]

"You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate"

[Too Sweet by Hozier]

[parkchvnyeols]

(cr: 980313__)

[inienil]

shark week ;)

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co