imalittleanon

[imalittleanon]

they should invent a bus that never gets stuck in traffic because it's on its own path separated from the roads. and then chain multiple of them together and put it on rails. has anyone had this idea before.

[imalittleanon]

[imalittleanon]

i'm sort of between graves right now

[imalittleanon]

what’s it called when you’re so disconnected from reality that cold water doesn’t feel like anything and you can barely taste food anymore

[imalittleanon]

Just woke up to this news

[imalittleanon]

10 Things I Hate About You (1999) dir. Gil Junger

[imalittleanon]

be pro-aging but wear sun screen. sun protection is not beauty industry propaganda it will save you. wear it. or else.

[imalittleanon]

please don’t fuck my dad

At the end of the day it’s up to him

[imalittleanon]

being 15 is normal but being born in 2010 is not hope this helps

[imalittleanon]

Waiting||Remmick x fem!reader

Summary — y/n is drawn to Remmick but she can’t explain why.

Word count—792

A/n — oh I’m so down bad for Remmick 🙂‍↕️

A/n — part two or no?

You see him again tonight.

At the edge of the woods. Right where the tree line breaks into shadow. He doesn’t move. He never does. Just stands there still and waiting like he’s carved from the night itself.

You should close the curtains. You should turn off the porch light and pretend you don’t see him.

But you don’t. You never do.

Because deep down, some twisted part of you wants to see him. To feel the weight of his stare. To hear that low, gravel-soft whisper that slips into your mind when the lights flicker and your breath catches like you’ve forgotten how to be alone.

“Come outside.”

The first time you heard it, you thought it was a dream. The second time, you locked every door and window and huddled beneath your blankets, sweating waiting him out.

Now… It's almost comforting. Like a lullaby.

You don’t know his name. You’ve never seen his face properly. Just a silhouette, broad-shouldered and long-limbed, with that stillness that’s more animal than man. His voice doesn’t come from the woods. It comes from inside you. Curling around your thoughts like smoke.

“Come outside.”

Tonight, you do.

Barefoot, barely dressed in an oversized sleep shirt, you step off your porch into the damp grass. The air is thick. Electric. Like something in the earth is holding its breath.

He doesn’t move. But you know he sees you.

Your heart races. Your body hums. You should be scared. But you’re not. You’re burning.

“Good girl,” his voice murmurs—and it’s not in your head anymore. It’s behind you. Hot against your neck. You spin around—And he’s there.

Close. Too close.

Remmick.

His eyes glow faintly in the dark, catching yours with a predator’s focus. His lips curl into something between a smirk and a snarl. And God, he’s beautiful in that ruined, wrong kind of way. Like something feral wrapped in skin. Like a sin carved from temptation.

“You finally listened,” he murmurs, fingers brushing your arm. “Took you long enough.”

“You’ve been” Your voice breaks. You don’t even know what you’re saying.

“Waiting? Watching?” He tilts his head, eyes trailing down your body. “Wanting?”

His hand slips under the hem of your shirt, rough palm ghosting up your thigh.

“You saw me,” he says. “You felt me. Every night. You wanted this.”

You should pull away. You should scream.

Instead, you lean in. You kiss him first.

It’s messy. Desperate. His mouth opens against yours, tongue sweeping in like he’s starved. His hands grip your waist, lift you like nothing, and pin you against the porch’s support beam. The wood bites into your back, but you don’t care. His mouth is at your throat now, teeth grazing skin, breath hot.

“You smell like dreams,” he growls, licking up the column of your neck. “Like fear and longing and need.”

Your shirt’s yanked up, and suddenly you’re bare to the night. He palms your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until you gasp.

“You want me to take you right here?” he breathes. “Where I’ve been watching you? Where you kept teasing me with little dresses and sleepy sighs?”

You nod, too breathless to speak.

He drops to his knees. His mouth finds your thighs, your inner seam, the heat between your legs. One long, slow lick makes you tremble. His fingers dig in, holding you open, tongue working you like worship. Like vengeance.

You come hard, body shuddering against the wood, fingers tangled in his hair.

But he’s not done.

He rises, unzips his jeans, pulls himself free, and fuck, he’s thick, already slick with need. He strokes once, twice, then presses into you in one deep thrust.

You moan loud, and shameless as he starts to move, slow and deliberately. Every stroke hits deep, dragging against that sweet spot that makes your vision go white. His hand wraps around your throat, not tight, just grounding.

“Say it,” he pants. “Say you want me.”

“I want you.”

“Say you’re mine.”

You hesitate only for a second.

“I’m yours.”

He growls, low and feral, and slams into you harder. Your legs wrap around him. You bite into his shoulder. You both come undone like that loud, messy, raw.

When you open your eyes again, he’s gone.

The woods are quiet.

But you know he’s still out there.

Waiting.

And tomorrow night you’ll go outside again.

[imalittleanon]

[imalittleanon]

I love dandelions!

*puts a dandelion in your hair*

Reblog to put a dandelion in prev's hair

[imalittleanon]

[imalittleanon]

[imalittleanon]

friends asked me to draw a bee with a binky here you guys can have it too

[imalittleanon]

this scene lasts 47 seconds but its legacy is eternal

[imalittleanon]

I think we’re all so brave for making it through every day