Imagine dating Hank Schyma
Road trips. Road trips. Road trips.
He has a whole bag of cool rocks you’ve picked up for him along the way.
Y’all stopping for the night and him playing soft guitar tunes while you fall asleep.
He wakes you up with a cup of coffee from a gas station, and talks through the target area with you.
“Baby, can you clean my lenses for me?”
His hand on your thigh as you’re blasting through Kansas.
“Hank I have to pee!!!!” You beg, as he feeds bananas to shit beetles.
You sitting on the trunk of the Windbreaker, watching Hank’s face light up as a photogenic cone drops.
You love him so much, it’s unreal.
The adrenaline of the chase is making him HORN-E
Large and extremely dangerous dong
Warm showers to wash the dirt and grass off of you after core punching
He writes a song, and the title is your middle name.
Braiding his hair. Ugh. 🥵
Him slabbing you on a deserted west Texas road. The damage is catastrophic.
You dressing up in his button up, bolo tie, and boots with nothing else on underneath 👀👀👀👀👀
Canned rambutan by candlelight