Origami Around
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
if i look back, i am lost
YOU ARE THE REASON
gracie abrams
Game of Thrones Daily
untitled
Today's Document
macklin celebrini has autism
Noah Kahan
Sweet Seals For You, Always
$LAYYYTER
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Discoholic 🪩
noise dept.
Keni
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Cosimo Galluzzi
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
seen from Germany
seen from Vietnam
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from France
seen from India
seen from Israel
seen from Lithuania
seen from United States
seen from South Africa
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from Czechia
seen from Honduras
seen from Honduras
seen from Tunisia
@hornybottomandkinky
Hi, I'm Hudson!
I write sexy fanfics and buy drawings for my happiness.
She/he pronouns🏳️🌈
AO3 - My safe place
Patreon
᭄ههههه᭄°•✮•°᭄ههههه᭄°•✮•°᭄
Important!
•Minors and ageless/empty blogs will be blocked
•My DM is only open to adults
•Only paid commissions (I want to buy drawings 🥰)
•Kinks: dom/sub, praise kink, exhibitionism, oral fixation, light humiliation, mommy and daddy kink
Welcome to Kinktober 2026!
Maybe this year yes 😭
Hold her down reach 16K! Thank you so much for your support and your comments! 🥳
This count as sneak peek?
Working on 👀
fandom etiquette as a whole died when people who didn’t grow up on fandoms became stans during lockdown, yes, but why am i seeing people openly mocking fics on twitter. why am i seeing screenshots of fics with captions like “bro what is this 😭.” why am i seeing people mock fic writers for not knowing how sports or theater or college or any other organization operates in the real world.
“college is absolutely nothing like this” “why are we writing four people on the team scoring a hat trick in one game” “so tech work is nothing like this, hope that helps!”
if you don’t like a fic, and if you can’t suspend your belief enough to enjoy a fic that exaggerates or ignores real-world orgs, you don’t have to read it. you don’t have to screenshot it and put it on blast for twitter. you don’t have to post a link to it in the replies. the back button is literally there on your phone. it’s not giving baby’s first fandom anymore, it’s giving entitled asshole and it isn’t as cute as you think it is.
how i sleep knowing i write shitty fiction but at least don’t use chatgpt
Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
I thought this said cows and thought, "Okay, tell me more..."
Fanfic creators are like cows, some people think you can just milk them for content, but actually they need enrichment (comments) and a nice pasture to graze on (kudos/likes) and they secretly also like cuddles (asks about their fic/art)
A moan pulled her from her thoughts.
Lena watched as Kara slowly awoke, her hands gripping the blanket beneath her tightly as her hips shifted toward the brunette.
"Lee," Kara moaned, turning her head and staring at the brunette. "You're so big."
Lena tried not to react to the compliment, but her hips had other plans. The cry that escaped the blonde's throat when she moved was indescribable. Without hesitation, she gripped the blue-eyed woman's hips with both hands and began thrusting forcefully.
Kara arched her back; the sound of the balls slapping against her pussy made her even wetter. She knew she'd be left with marks from Lena's fingers, but it was totally worth it.
Support me
Kinktober - Day 1
━━𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐬.
Tags: yearning : : softness : : masturbation : : pre-realtionship Kara/Lena
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ Day 1 - Masturbationﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐚 had left Kara's loft without raising any suspicions — aside from an insistent pout from the blonde and a promise of breakfast the next day.
Everything was fine; it was, as always, a night filled with laughter and jokes.
But that didn't take away from the fact that Lena was excited after seeing her best friend in a top flexing her muscles—a dare from Nia, and Kara decided the best way to fulfill it was by taking off her shirt.
Lena was too human and weak, very weak, when it came to Kara Danvers.
After everything that had happened in the previous years, anyone would expect Lena to have forgotten her crush on the blonde. Years of silent longing, settling for long hugs and kisses on the cheek when there were others—especially Andrea—who would take the opportunity to win the brunette's love at any cost.
But the heart is stubborn and doesn't listen to reason, so Lena didn't blame it when it raced at the sight of Kara's smile or when it skipped a beat when Kara looked at her a little longer than necessary.
Loving Kara had become an essential part of her, almost as necessary as breathing. The longing that made her gasp for air whenever she was around the blonde had become her best companion when she was alone. The way her heart twisted slightly when she saw the blonde smile at someone else was proof that she was still alive.
Still, there was another part of her that was dissatisfied.
Lena had had discreet affairs over the years, but when it ended she felt like she was cheating on the blonde even though they were just friends, she felt dirty — although she knew, logically, that wasn't true, but her feelings played tricks on her sometimes.
So, after thinking about it for a while, she decided to stop frequenting the places she used to go to just to have a good time. It didn't make much of a difference, but she felt a little better about herself.
And, returning to the problem, Lena was terribly excited after seeing Kara's muscles, her thoughts were basically pornographic and if she didn't leave she knew perfectly well that she would end up jumping on the blonde and asking her to fuck her as if the world was going to end that very night.
The trip back was short but felt like an eternity. The thought of returning to her empty penthouse every night when she could have stayed in Kara's loft made her second-guess her decision to leave. Everything in her being wanted to return to the blonde's apartment and stay there forever, in a place where she would always receive Kara's love and where her heart would be safe, but the throbbing between her legs reminded her why that plan was a truly bad idea.
But maybe Kara would like to help her.
Lena shook her head to get that thought out of her, it wasn't the first time that ideas like that crossed her mind and it was always dangerous to let them grow.
No matter how much she wished some of those thoughts would come true.
Lena wasn't sure when she arrived at her building or went up to her penthouse; her thoughts had completely consumed her, leaving her feeling disoriented. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and she'd grown accustomed to these empty moments where the only thing she could focus on was Kara.
The green-eyed girl sighed, took off her clothes as she headed to her room, leaving them lying on the floor and standing in her underwear.
She felt tired, as if she were carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, always there, pressing down, trying to break her, but the memory of Kara's blue eyes and smile made everything easier.
Perhaps not everything.
Lena lay down on her bed; the cold blankets stung her skin. The desire she felt seeped through her pores, and sweat began to trickle down her forehead.
Lena moved one of her hands down her stomach, her fingers tracing the skin, descending to the elastic of her underwear. Her eyes were closed, imagining it wasn't her hand but Kara's playing with her underwear. Her other hand moved up to rest on her breast.
Her hand kneaded the fleshy mound, her fingers lightly pinching the half-erect nipple. Lena sighed, her movements slow. She believed Kara would take her time, would learn what made the brunette moan; would treat her gently, fearing that her superhuman strength might hurt her.
Lena played with her nipple, feeling her pussy throb with every movement.
The brunette moaned as her other hand slid inside her underwear, feeling how wet she was.
Her fingers moved deliberately, coating them with her own moisture. Lena inserted a finger into her vagina; the stretch was minimal, but the way her body reacted took her breath away.
Lena moved gently, feeling her orgasm slowly building.
One finger delicately became two; her gasps broke the silence in the room. A shiver ran through her body, and she moaned.
It was the same feeling she got when Kara looked at her.
Support me - Complete fic
Support divider by @cursed-carmine
So... Will we reach 12K on Hold Her Down before the new year?
Sunlight - Chapter 1: Like a sinner, like a God.
Only a few heartbeats were needed—no more than a breath stolen from time—for Bellatrix to understand the truth.
Her Lord had left her behind.
He had fled the Ministry like an ancient god who, seeing his altar crumble, chooses to abandon his priestess beneath the ruins. Voldemort had seen it. Bellatrix knew it with the bitter certainty of betrayed faith: he had seen Dumbledore hurl the statue onto her, had seen marble and magic close over her like an improvised tomb. And still, he did not return.
He did not keep his promise.
He escaped, followed by those who survived the crossfire, by the cowards who managed to flee the judgment of that night.
Among them, Lucius.
Something inside Bellatrix shattered without a sound, like a prayer that goes unanswered.
Her Lord.
Her savior.
Her god.
He had abandoned her without hesitation, without looking back, as if her devotion—years of blood, screams, and whispered prayers—had meant nothing.
Only seconds were enough for Bellatrix Lestrange to cease being a Death Eater and become a woman alone, crushed beneath the weight of her broken faith.
Her breathing grew erratic, disordered, like a creed being recited backward. Her magic trembled, convulsed along with her body. She clawed at the ground, at the dream, at reality itself, trying to reach her wand.
The last thing she could still call her own.
Her nails split against the marble as she dragged herself forward, as she tried to escape from beneath the statue that now felt like divine punishment. Her heart hammered like a war drum, sweat soaked her brow, and her thoughts tangled together, unrecognizable, blasphemous.
She heard footsteps.
Her mind screamed danger, but her body knew the truth: she could not flee. Any movement could mean Azkaban again. The cold, endless hell.
The footsteps drew closer. Bellatrix refused to lift her gaze.
When a pair of sneakers entered her field of vision, a shiver ran down her spine. One of the children. One of those who had fought in the Department of Mysteries.
Perhaps Potter—the orphan who had lost the only family he ever had by her hand. Or Longbottom, seeking vengeance for the parents she had broken with patience and delight.
She did not care.
Nothing they could do to her frightened her. She had endured far worse at the hands of the Dark Lord.
She looked up.
And understood how wrong she had been.
It was not Potter.
It was not Longbottom.
The air lodged in her lungs as she met the face before her.
Somehow, the ceiling of the Ministry had been torn open, allowing light to descend like an unearned blessing. It illuminated the brown curls of the witch watching her, drawing an imperfect halo around her head.
A crown of light.
Bellatrix knew instantly who she was.
The Mudblood.
Hermione Granger.
The only one foolish enough—or perhaps pure enough—to approach a Death Eater infamous for her hatred and cruelty.
But that was not what undid her.
It was the hand extended toward her.
It did not tremble. It did not hesitate. There was no hatred in her eyes. Only an unbearable calm, like that of saints in Muggle stained glass. She simply offered her hand.
And in that moment, Bellatrix knew that something irrevocable had shifted inside her.
No one knew.
No one knew the true reason for Bellatrix Lestrange’s fanatical loyalty to Voldemort.
Not even she allowed herself to speak it aloud.
It was faith.
She did not know how much time had passed. The world seemed suspended, held in a single act of mercy. The girl’s hand remained there, unmoving, as though she had all eternity to wait.
Bellatrix had never been pragmatic, despite what many believed. She had always been a woman starved for faith, desperate to believe in something greater than herself. Since childhood. And more than one person had known how to use that against her.
And there was Granger.
Looking at her with kindness.
Not withdrawing her hand.
Bellatrix wanted to cry.
Was this what Muggles called God?
She remembered the first Muggle she had killed. She remembered how that woman had prayed as she died. Bellatrix had mocked her then, but the woman’s words now returned, ringing like a bell in her mind.
“It doesn’t matter whether you believe it or not. He is my God, and He will take care of my soul when the time comes.”
What had terrified her was not the prayer, but the peace.
The woman had not been afraid.
She trusted.
Bellatrix wanted to understand. She investigated. She read. She searched. She discovered a God divided into three: Father, Son, and Spirit. She could not comprehend how a father could send his son to die for others—nor how the son accepted the sacrifice with love.
The Son suffered.
The Father forgave.
And all that was asked was sincere repentance and the will to do good.
Nothing more.
It was so simple it hurt.
Bellatrix blinked and returned to the present. She looked at the girl before her and knew, with the certainty of revelation, what she had to do.
When she took her hand, the first thing she noticed was how soft her skin was. The calluses on her fingertips from holding her wand incorrectly.
The second was her smile. Small. Human.
Her eyes, alive.
Then she saw the trembling.
The blood.
For the first time in a long while, Bellatrix was afraid.
She did not care about the crash behind her, nor the chaos. Only one truth existed: she could not lose her.
She tried to stand. Failed.
Hermione collapsed in front of her.
Bellatrix crawled forward, ignoring her nearby wand, ignoring the wands aimed at her, ignoring the entire world.
Dumbledore ordered everyone to lower their wands, watching with something like reverence what was unfolding.
Bellatrix placed her hand over the young witch’s chest, feeling her heart race. Without hesitation, she poured her magic out to counter the curse.
She did not know if it would be enough.
She did not know if she would survive.
She only knew she had to do it.
Her loyalty no longer belonged to a false god.
It belonged to someone who, in mere minutes, had shown her more mercy than Voldemort had in thirty years.
Darkness closed in as she collapsed over the girl’s body, her magic humming around them, like a prayer finally answered.
Support me
So... New chapter of Hold Her Down...
✨Kinktober write list✨
I'm really excited for my first kinktober, I know I'm starting a bit late but I'm sure I'll probably finish it on time🥳🥳 I will be working with my main ship (supercorp) so I hope this will also be of interest to all the fans of the ship. This list will be the prompts I will write for the remainder of the month, all of which will be uploaded uniformly both here and on my patreon and AO3 (they'll all be one shots, but if you want to read more about a specific prompt, don't hesitate to ask) I hope you will join me on this journey💖
~Love, Hudson.
I have a new idea for a Supercorp fic, I'm finishing the Hold Her Down chapter and writing the next Shameless chapter... I'll post everything when I have my first patreon >///<
Hold her down is almost at 6K and I haven't finished writing the next chapter yet, thank you so much! ❤️
