#every time I like something I feel like someone has to just come tell me why they don’t like it and what’s wrong with it

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Voiceover .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ genre: fluff

☘︎ pairings: bf!bakugou x beauty influencer!reader

⤿ what happens when you let bakugou do the voiceover for your grwm video?

YN, the beloved beauty influencer, has a large fanbase that eagerly waits for every tutorial and product review she posts. Her followers love her charm, precision, and the care she puts into her skincare and makeup routines. For her latest video, she decides to mix things up with a popular new trend: a voiceover challenge where someone else narrates her skincare and makeup routine. And who better to rope into it than her boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki?

Bakugou, despite his grumbling, agrees—albeit reluctantly. “Fine, but don’t expect me to know what half this stuff does,” he mutters, eyeing the neatly arranged products on her vanity with a mix of confusion and suspicion. YN just laughs, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before hitting the record button.

The video opens with YN introducing herself with a bright smile, followed by a little montage of Bakugou sitting in a separate room, headphones on, looking like he’s ready to tackle a difficult mission rather than a beauty video. He clears his throat, muttering something about how he can’t believe he’s doing this, which already has viewers laughing. “Alright, listen up. Today, I’m supposed to tell ya what my girl’s doing with all this… stuff.” He glances at a list of her products, clearly struggling with some of the names.

YN starts with her usual cleanser, massaging it into her skin. Bakugou narrates, “Okay, so she’s using some foamy stuff… uh, probably to clean her face? Gotta get rid of all that dirt or somethin’. Look, I don’t know why she’s doin’ it this way, but it looks kinda… relaxing?”

As she rinses and pats her face dry, Bakugou grumbles, “Now she’s dabbing her face with a towel, all gentle like. Ya know, if I did that, I’d be done in two seconds. But she’s got this whole routine down.” YN holds in her laughter as she watches his face pop up in the little corner of her screen, totally serious and almost endearing.

Next, she reaches for her toner. Bakugou’s tone perks up. “Oh, this is that… watery thing she slaps on her face all the time,” he says, clearly recalling her explaining it to him before. “It’s supposed to ‘balance her pH’ or some nonsense. Yeah, don’t ask me what that means. She just… pats it on like this and pretends she’s at a spa or somethin’.”

YN grins as she moves to her serum. Bakugou raises an eyebrow. “Alright, now this is, uh… some fancy oil-lookin’ thing? She’s droppin’ it on her face like it’s some kinda magic potion. It’s supposed to ‘hydrate’ her skin or whatever, but honestly, it looks like somethin’ from a science lab.”

By now, fans watching can tell he’s trying hard to understand her routine, but his cluelessness is oddly charming. “And now she’s doing the ‘pat-pat’ thing again. She says it ‘makes it absorb better,’ but I think she just likes smackin’ her own face,” he chuckles, clearly finding some amusement in this process.

When YN applies her moisturizer, Bakugou sighs. “Okay, now she’s puttin’ on this thick cream. Keeps her skin soft, I guess? Not that she needs it—her skin’s already damn perfect.” There’s a subtle admiration in his tone that he can’t quite hide, and YN has to stifle a blush, feeling flustered hearing him actually compliment her.

Finally, she reaches for her sunscreen. “Ah, this one I know,” Bakugou says, sounding more confident. “She puts this on even if she’s stayin’ inside. Says it ‘protects’ her skin, but I think she just likes coverin’ her face with more stuff. But whatever, it makes her happy.”

With skincare done, YN starts her makeup routine. Bakugou clears his throat, bracing himself. “Alright, now for the…paintin’ part.”

She picks up her primer, dabbing it across her face. Bakugou’s voice comes back, deadpan. “Now she’s smearin’ some kinda… lotion? Guess it’s supposed to make everything else stick to her face better. Y’know, like glue. Genius, right?”

YN laughs, making Bakugou scowl playfully at the camera. “Oi, stop laughing, I’m tryin’ to focus!”

Next up is foundation. “This one’s… the stuff that makes her look all smooth and even,” he says, watching intently as she dabs the foundation with a sponge. “And now she’s attackin’ her face with that squishy… thing. It’s like a little…pillow? Don’t know what it is, but she sure loves hittin’ herself with it.”

YN moves to her concealer, adding a few dots under her eyes. “And now, war paint,” Bakugou says dramatically. “Under the eyes, on the nose, chin… she’s gotta look like she’s goin’ into battle, but actually she’s just coverin’ up… nothin’. She doesn’t even have dark circles!”

As she blends it in, Bakugou sighs. “More pat-pat-patting. I think if I had to do this every day, I’d go nuts. But she’s committed, I’ll give her that.”

YN reaches for her eyeshadow palette, full of warm-toned shades. “Now she’s got this��� box of colors,” Bakugou says, slightly intrigued. “She says it’s called ‘pumpkin spice’ or somethin’? Anyway, she’s paintin’ her eyelids with it, like she’s makin’ mini explosions on her face. Gotta admit, it’s kinda cool lookin’.”

He gets a little quiet when she reaches for her mascara. “Now she’s puttin’ this… black paint on her lashes. Looks dangerous. I swear one wrong move and she could poke her eye out,” he mutters, genuinely a little worried.

Then she moves to her highlighter, sweeping it on her cheekbones. Bakugou raises a brow. “And now…sparkles? I dunno why her face needs to be shiny, but… it’s like she’s glowin’ or somethin’.” His tone softens as he watches her finish up, clearly impressed despite himself.

Finally, she applies a vibrant lipstick, and Bakugou nearly chokes. “Okay, now she’s puttin’ on this…red lipstick. Real bright. It…makes her look nice,” he mumbles, clearly flustered. “Not that I care or nothin’.”

YN ends with a soft smile, blowing a kiss to the camera. Bakugou scoffs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah, alright. That’s how she does it. Don’t know how she has the patience, but… I guess she looks kinda…” He pauses, swallowing. “…stunning.”

As the video wraps up, fans are absolutely delighted with Bakugou’s commentary. They adore his tough exterior melting just a little as he describes YN’s routine, his hidden compliments giving away how much he cares. YN posts the video, and it quickly becomes a fan favorite, showing not only her expertise but also the softer side of the explosive Pro Hero by her side.

Later, YN teases him, saying, “See? You didn’t do too bad!”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, though there’s a slight blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah…don’t get used to it.” But the way he looks at her, even off-camera, says he’d be willing to do it all over again.

[inbabylontheywept]

Weird Grandpa Story #2

I remember asking my mom once, if her dad had gotten ornerier as he'd gotten old. I'd heard about that happening, and it would've made sense for him. He was already the orneriest old cuss I'd ever met. Couldn't even imagine him being grumpier than he was.

Instead of answering the question directly, she told me about what it was like going to church with him as a kid. Their church was a small Mormon ward out in the sticks of Colorado, and he served as their Bishop - mostly by virtue of being the only one willing to do that much unpaid work. He was also the ward pianist. He actually liked playing piano, and he liked having an audience, so it was more or less understood that he was willing to be the bishop in exchange for being the pianist. 

Which could've been a good trade, but there were a few problems.

The first problem was that Grandpa Dale played every song at about triple speed. He was a deeply impatient person, and that extended to how he played music. The second problem was that he had a bad habit of cursing under his breath. That would've been a scandalous  enough habit for a Mormon bishop, but was made much worse (and also much funnier)  by him being pretty damn deaf. So what he thought of as "quiet" cursing under his breath was more of just a verse hoarse way of yelling. I only visited him for a week or two every summer, and I still learned most of my bad words from him. 

So every Sunday would start with a quiet prayer, and then Bishop Grandpa Dale would go to the piano, sit down, and play the nightcore version of Praise to the Man. He would occasionally play other hymns, but he really, really liked that one. This would continue until he hit a wrong note, which was basically inevitable because his music philosophy was that if he could play a song flawlessly, it was time to play it faster. So he'd play until he hit that wrong note, at which point he would scream-whisper SHIIIIIT and, because he did not actually read music so much as memorize it, the only way he'd be able to get his rhythm back was by going back to the start. 

If it was a good Sunday, he could get it in two tries. Some Sundays took as many as five. 

I learned two things about Grandpa Dale from this story. The first was that he could play piano. I'd never actually seen him do that before. Still haven't, come to think of it. Second was that the man that I visited once a year, who always seemed on the verge of exploding, who scared the absolute dickens out of me, was actually the chilled out version of the man my mom grew up with.

And it helped knowing that, actually. I'm actually a pretty anxious person, and my mom is, also, a pretty anxious person, and as a teenager we'd sometimes get in these doom loops where we'd wind each other up until our springs cracked. She'd be worried about me growing up to be happy, and I'd be worried about letting her down, and my worrying would make me unhappy, and my unhappiness would make her unhappy, and we'd just kind of dissolve into these anxieties like cotton candy in the sea and become totally unbearable to be around for a bit. Then my dad would sit us both down and very politely tell us that we were being crazy. He had this quote how being sad that someone else is sad that you're sad is the emotional equivalent of being a Klein flask and that at some point you have to just say I am allowed one (1) single layer of emotional recursion, at most, and ideally zero. 

And it was always kind of embarrassing and silly, but when I was tempted to be more upset with my mom about it, I could remember the piano story and go: Sheesh. She has more of a right to be anxious that I do. For me it's really just genetics, but she grew up with the Cactus-Killing Gopher-Smasher. A whole 18 years of that. I spent two weeks every summer with that guy, and I love him, but I always came home feeling like I'd survived something. She's a trooper.

[phantomspren]

I was just going to put this in tags but I'll put it here.

This is why I'm uncomfortable when people make sweeping generalizations about conservatives/Republicans.

On a fundamental level, I do disagree with the political beliefs that lead people to holding those labels.

But at the same time, there's such a huge difference between someone who is Republican because they think that we should have lower taxes, and someone who is Republican because they think rich white men are the only people worthy of rights.

When we make those blanket statements of "every Republican is racist" or whatever, we're making it less likely that those people are going to do stuff like this. Often it leads to people doubling down on their beliefs, even if they are inherently harmful.

You also have people like my mom. She is a registered Republican, born and raised in Idaho, super super Mormon.

She's a registered Republican because she thinks that society should be built to promote the family and help families thrive.

But she also supports universal healthcare.

I tell her all the things I think are cool about Harris and Walz and she's always like "wow, yeah, that is really cool!"

She's a high school teacher and because of that now supports gun control.

She doesn't give a shit that I'm aroace. (Haven't talked about gender stuff but I'd feel pretty comfortable bringing it up at this point to be honest.)

The thing is that the public/left awareness of the Republican party has shifted, following the people who are in power. Because those in power are getting more extreme.

There are people who have always held really extreme right-wing beliefs.

There are people like many who are voting for Trump who used to be less extreme, but have followed those in positions in power in gradually making their views more extreme.

There are those like my mom and dad who have some not great but far more reasonable beliefs who feel like the Republican party no longer represent them.

It's important to talk about those problematic beliefs that people like my parents hold, but at the end of the day they are genuinely good people. They've got internalized racism and homophobia and misogyny just like everyone else, but they're still good people.

Honestly even most hardcore Trump supporters are good people. (My grandparents voted for him! They're some of the kindest people I know!)

But if we just throw everyone under the label of "Republican" and then assume that includes things like homophobe, white supremacist, etc, you're going to end up with a lot of people who don't want to get behind what you're behind.

It's so much better, in my experience, to build a report, built trust, try to genuinely understand where the other person is coming from. I've talked to my Trump voting grandparents about trans people and they listened to me. I may not have changed their minds, but they have at least seen that other side from someone they respect.

That's going to go a whole lot more good in the long run than just calling them Republican and never talking to them again.

Of course there's more nuance than this, and if someone has like genuine beliefs that. Really really not great. Dump their ass. It's not worth it. There's a difference between someone who's a white supremacist because that's what they deeply believe, and someone who's just parroting what they saw elsewhere. The later deserve time and understanding, because they have the potential to turn into the former but aren't there yet.

And of course there are people like my mom. If she took a political compass quiz it would tell her she's liberal, hands down. Still a registered Republican.

Anyways, these are thoughts I've had for a bit and maybe I'll write something later that's a bit more planned out. Hope that makes sense.

And there's just a ton of nuance here that I can't get into because I've almost hit my time limit on Tumblr and I need to go take an exam. Plus it's dumb to expect me to elaborate on every possible way this could be misinterpreted. Just assume I kinda know what I'm talking about please, unless I accidentally said something blatantly incorrect. O7

Please vote tomorrow.

Be compassionate.

Imagine those around you complexly.

Think about my mom. :p

Have a cat picture for the road.

i'm a huge fan of Republicans, conservatives or however you want to be politically labeled choosing country over party. please let me see more stories. it's a brave thing to do this. even if you voted for him in both 2016 & 2020 but you changed your mind now, WELCOME. it's a massive deal to get out of any cult successfully & MAGA is no different. being filled with anger & hatred, & fear is intoxicating & honestly easier than choosing to do the right thing. i'm glad you saw the light.

check your registration status often & don't stop talking about Project 2025. they can pretend they're distancing themselves from it as much as they want but it's absolutely their policy. we can do this though if we just show up & VOTE. we got this 💙

[loganhowlettshousewife]

something something dark!logan who puts reader in dangerous situations so he can save her and then convince her that no one is safe and he’s the only one she can trust. is it bad that i find the thought of logan baby trapping me hot?

(this is not proofread, i wrote this in like 30 minutes)

-

the first time he sees you, something primal unlocks in him. you’re suddenly the only thing he can think about, your sweet smile taking over his dreams. he wants you in a way he’s never wanted anything before, willing to do anything you ask of him, willing to kill anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way.

every time he sees your smile drop he’s filled with a murderous rage. 

but when he’s around you, the world slows down. there’s only you and him and the tension between you. your friends tell you that he’s dangerous, he’s angry and drunk all the time, but you just stare at them in confusion because he’s never so much as raised his voice at you.

so you wave off your friends worries, telling them that he’s an absolute sweetheart and maybe he just has a bad reputation, but you know him.

he invites you to go to a bar with him and you agree enthusiastically. you love spending time with him, and this is sounding almost like a date. you get all dolled-up for him, hopeful that something in your relationship will shift tonight. 

you agreed to meet at the bar, so you wait outside the building for logan, bouncing on the balls of your feet. that’s when a man approaches you, big and burly and asking what you’re doing all dressed up and alone. he drags you into the alley beside the bar, but before anything can happen, the man is being thrown into the wall.

logan stabs the guy in the chest with his claws, letting the blood run down his hand. because while he was the one who paid the guy to do this to you, he still couldn’t stand the sight of another man’s hands on you. so he brings his fist down again, claws puncturing the man’s lungs. and again and again and again, until you have to pull him off the bloody corpse.

the minute his eyes meet yours, it's like he becomes a completely new person. he drives you home, a hand on your thigh. he holds you close when you cry in his arms, whispering that he’s so sorry he wasn’t there to protect you, that he should have offered to drive you, that he should have known someone would try to hurt you, because you’re beautiful and pure and the world is a wretched place that wants to destroy souls like yours.

you start dating and logan becomes even more protective and jealous. now that he knows what it's like to have you, he’ll do anything to keep you.

so he stages dangerous situations, manipulates you into falling right into the traps he’s laid out, and every time he comes to rescue you. he’s the hero of your story, and you tell him that, laying with your head on his chest one night.

but he still doesn’t feel like it's enough. the animal in him longs to call you his, to claim you permanently. to mate with you, to breed you. 

so he convinces you to move in with him, something that’s pretty easy after he hires someone to break into your apartment. he observes your routines, memorises your little daily schedules, and when you’re in the shower he switches out your birth control pills for placebo ones.

when he fucks you it’s hard and rough. it’s the only time he lets himself be something other than gentle with you, because he knows how much you love it, can smell your arousal growing with every thrust, can feel how wet you are around him. you cry out his name, grasping desperately at his arms, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach really, for some sort of support.

you’re so out of it that you don’t notice when he cums deep inside you instead of pulling out like you’d asked. he keeps fucking his cum into you, pushing it deeper. when the afterglow of your orgasm fades and you feel his cum leaking out of you, you freak out, pushing him off you.

but he asks, “aren’t you on birth control?” and after a long conversation he convinces you that it’ll be fine, that’s what birth control is for, and besides, doesn’t it feel better raw? don’t you love the feeling of his thick cum shooting inside you, coating your insides, claiming you?

you’re terrified when you find out you're pregnant, and logan acts just as shocked, as if he couldn’t smell when you were ovulating and hadn’t planned to breed you as many times as he could during that period to make sure it stuck. 

he tells you that no matter what he’ll be by your side, that he’s never really thought about settling down and being a family man but that he’s never felt for anyone what he feels for you, and the thought of having a child with you, someone that’s half your dna and half his, your love for each other in a physical form, sounds wonderful.

and then one day, after your daughter is born, as you’re watching logan holding her in his large arms, you admit that you knew he was borderline stalking you before you two started dating, and you knew after the third time that the men attacking you were being hired to do so, and you knew when he switched out your birth control.

and you confess to him that no one’s ever really loved you the way logan does, completely and unconditionally, and even if logan’s a little unhinged and obsessive about making sure you won’t leave him, you appreciate that quality. because he wouldn’t go through all that effort and all that trouble if he didn’t care about you.

logan, who thought it was impossible to love you any more than he already did, feels himself fall in love all over again at that confession.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

this love is ours | lewis hamilton

🍵 synopsis: It's just another Thursday, and you've invited your boyfriend over for dinner. It's the early stages of your relationship and you're both still trying to understand how to make it work. warnings: domestic life with lewis, mention of smut but nothing too graffic just a lot of fluff, really. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 1.5k words)

part 1

The doorbell rings, and you’re there before it can sound a second time. You’d been trying – unsuccessfully – to keep the anxiety at bay, telling yourself you weren’t just sitting here, practically waiting like a dog by the door.

Something about that image stings. Waiting around for someone else, no life of your own.

You don’t want whatever this is between you two to feel like that.

But here you are, sighing as you open the door, realizing you’d been holding your breath. Lewis stands there with that easy grin of his, the one that always lights up when he sees you. He steps inside with the same comfortable ease he has every time, like he belongs here.

It’s a little absurd, really – seeing him in your cramped one-bedroom apartment. Everything about him feels too big, like he could barely fit in the space, yet somehow he does. He makes himself at home without a second thought, even looking thrilled whenever you ask him to come by.

Your apartment is nothing special, but it’s yours. The walls are covered in mismatched frames with art prints and photos, books stacked in piles wherever there’s space, some spilling over onto the floor. Plants cling to life on the windowsill, a few drooping leaves reminding you you’ve probably forgotten to water them for a while.

And now he is here.

Watching him in your home, sprawled out on your too-small couch or grabbing a drink from your mismatched kitchenware, you feel a strange mix of affection and unease. Intimacy has always been tricky for you and bringing someone in feels like laying out every part of yourself for inspection. You still can’t believe he wants to be here, tangled up in your mess of books and half-dead plants – not just tolerating it, but actually enjoying it.

And you’re still not sure if it’s comforting or unsettling to let him see your life laid out this way, all the things that make you... you.

After a couple of dates, you tried to explain. “Intimacy is a bit complicated for me,” you said, half-expecting him to tense up or brush it off. But he didn’t flinch. He just nodded, as if you’d mentioned something as mundane as your favorite tea.

“Another thing we have in common, I guess,” he’d said with a little laugh, like you were still comparing movie preferences.

part 2

In your kitchen, you’re chopping vegetables while he hovers close, his hand on your waist, tracing absentminded circles with his thumb. He’s always been touchy like this, finding ways to keep you close whenever you’re together, as if he can’t help himself.

“I wish you could come this weekend,” he says, leaning over to sneak a slice of carrot.

You give a small shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe you should just do like the rest of the paddock and date a jobless woman,” you tease, keeping your tone light, but it lands with a subtle weight you can both feel.

It’s playful, sure, but there’s an edge. There’s this guilt whenever one of you can’t be there for the other. No one’s blaming anyone, not really. You’re both still trying to make this work, but the distance, the missed moments – they’re always there, lingering in the back of your minds, just out of sight, and sometimes they sting.

The kettle starts to boil, and the sharp whistle slices through the silence, cutting off the tension.

He chuckles, turning to you with a smile. “Or maybe I’ll just get them to move the race here, to your kitchen,” he says. “I think I’d be faster with you handing out snacks.”

He bumps his shoulder against yours, and the mood lifts, just like that.

part 3

You’re both on the sofa, legs tangled together, sipping tea in comfortable silence. Your legs rest over his lap, feeling heavy but safe.

“I’m so tired. I can’t even –”

“Can’t even what?” he prompts gently, looking at you with those warm eyes.

“Can’t even finish a sentence,” you admit, laughing softly. “I was going to say it’s nice to be here with you, but…”

He chuckles, brushing his thumb across your ankle. “But?”

“But, you know, I just keep trailing off, and it’s –”

“It's cute,” he interrupts, his smile widening. “You know you don’t have to talk, right?”

“I do,” you reply, stifling a yawn. “But it’s just… I want to say something, but my brain isn’t… cooperating. It’s like, I have all these thoughts, but they just… float away.”

“Maybe your brain just wants to go to bed,” he suggests, his tone teasing.

“Maybe,” you murmur, your eyelids growing heavier. “But… I’m too tired for that. For, um, for sex and stuff.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I know. I’m tired too, baby. Let’s just sleep tonight, okay?”

part 4

He’s got you caged in his arms, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. He starts leaving soft kisses along the side of your face, then your neck, then just behind your ear. Each kiss is a gentle peck, and you can feel yourself practically melting, a soft sigh escaping your lips. His kisses make your whole body tingle, and you just want to be closer, to press into him until there’s no space left between you.

You shift, adjusting, trying to find that perfect spot – but nothing feels like enough. No matter how tightly you hold him, it still doesn’t feel close enough. He kisses you again, even softer, his hand stroking your hair, sending little shivers down your spine.

And then he starts to laugh, a quiet chuckle at first that grows, his whole body shaking. He laughs harder as you keep squirming, and soon he’s laughing so hard it’s impossible to ignore. You pull back, frowning, pushing him away with a huff.

“You’re so mean!” you exclaim, trying to sound serious, but he’s made it impossible not to pout. You hate feeling this childish around him, but he’s just… infuriating.

“What happened to just sleeping?” you add, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks as he keeps grinning.

He shrugs, pulling you back in and brushing a final kiss across your forehead. “You’re too cute when you’re frustrated,” he murmurs, his voice soft against your hair. “Now go back to sleep.”

“I don’t think I can,” you admit, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I should’ve known better than to get in bed with you.”

He chuckles, his arms tightening around you. “Maybe you should’ve,” he says, teasing, but he pulls you in even closer, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Wrapped in his shirt, which hangs off you in oversized, lopsided folds, you laugh as you fumble to pull it off, and he starts helping, chuckling with you as you get tangled up in the sleeves.

He pauses for a moment, looking at you, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “You know,” he whispers, a small smile playing on his lips, “you’re beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your cheeks flush. “I’m serious,” he insists, his tone warm, his eyes soft.

You give in with a sigh, mumbling, “I’m sorry about earlier… I didn’t mean to snap. I just – had a pretty shitty day at the office.”

He nods, his hand moving down to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. “I know,” he murmurs. “We’re both tired, aren’t we?” He leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over yours with a tenderness that makes your heart skip.

He smiles as he finally frees you from the shirt, tossing it aside and gently pressing you back onto the bed. “My girl is so pretty…” he teases, his voice warm and playful as he kisses you again, holding you close.

His hands move slowly along your sides, fingertips tracing gentle patterns on your skin. Everything is quiet now, just the two of you wrapped up in each other, your breaths syncing. 

You let your hands drift along his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. He dips down, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone, your breasts, his breath warm and steady, calming you.

Even though you’re both on the edge of sleep, barely keeping your eyes open, your bodies seem to know exactly what to do. His weight presses down on you, grounding you. His scent is warm and intoxicating, lulling you deeper into the moment.

Neither of you rushes – there’s no urgency. You guide him to a rhythm that feels effortless, as if you’ve always known how to move together like this.

It’s gentle and unhurried, every movement blending into the next as you lose yourselves in the softness of each other. All you know in this moment is his warmth, his weight, and the sound of your breaths mixing in the quiet of the room. 

And even in this half-dreamlike state, somehow, you both find the release you need, a quiet, shared bliss that lingers as he presses his forehead to yours, breathing in time with you.

You’re both too tired for anything more, and that’s okay. The closeness, the way his hand settles on the small of your back, pulling you in tighter, says enough. You brush your fingers through his hair, letting your eyes drift shut as he trails one last kiss along your shoulder.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. His arms hold you close, and you let out a sigh, feeling yourself finally relax as you hold him back, allowing yourself to feel small in his arms.

[mind-intheclouds342]

The perfect one - Trans Curly x Reader

Warning: Smutty!

To you, he was the best man you could have ever met, tall, blonde, with blue eyes, his beard tickled you every time you kissed him, his hands were big and perfect for holding your face, kind, compassionate, and you could keep naming many other qualities of his.

After so many failed relationships, you felt that you had finally met the right person for you. 

Maybe the only bad thing you could say about him was his job, which meant he was away too much, but in the last few months you were dating, there wasn't a day when you didn't receive a call from him and he would tell you how everything was going.

While you were waiting at the mall for their arrival to meet, someone had approached you. 

He looked familiar when you gave him a glance, until you realized he was a friend of Curly's, whom you had only seen in photographs. 

Jimmy: "Aren't you (Y/n)? Curly's girlfriend?"

"Um- yeah, it's me..." 

You nodded somewhat nervously at the man's sudden closeness. 

Jimmy: "Are you gay?"

"Excuse me?"

That question had caught you completely off guard. 

Jimmy: "Sure you are, otherwise you wouldn't be with Curly, right?" 

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

Jimmy: "You know, because he is a woman."

"Eh?"

Every word that came out of his mouth only made you feel more and more confused. 

Jimmy: "Didn't you know? He may look like a man and all, but he doesn't have what really makes a man."

"You know- I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you. I will kindly ask you to leave me alone and go away."

Jimmy: "Ugh, I'm just telling you the truth, you don't have to react that way."

He rolled his eyes. 

Jimmy: "You should be with a real man, I'm available if you're interested in that."

"No thanks, I would prefer to eat cockroaches."

You made an unpleasant grimace at that idea, but the thought of being much closer to that person for a longer time seemed even more disgusting to you. 

After rejecting him in a thousand different ways and having him insult you for rejecting him, he got tired enough to leave you alone. 

"What kind of friends does Curly have?"

You wondered, looking at the time on your phone, hoping he would arrive soon. 

And when you looked up from the screen, all you could see were yellow tulips in front of you. 

Curly: "Have you been waiting a long time for me?"

You melted at the sight of that beautiful smile he has, and the gesture of the flowers in a pot won your heart once again. 

"No, not at all, I arrived just a few minutes early."

You responded by greeting your boyfriend with a kiss on the lips, happy to see him again. 

Curly: "Great, shall we go to that new café you wanted to go to?"

"Of course~"

You clung to his arm and, attached to him, walked together until you reached that place.

You took a seat, leaving the flowers aside, and after glancing at the menu, you decided to place  your orders. 

Curly: "And? Have you thought about my proposal?"

"To go live with you?" You smiled, playing with the paper napkin on the table. "I don't know..." It's still a bit early~ we've only been dating for half a year"

Curly: "Mmm, but we've known each other for two years." 

"But it seems like you haven't told me everything~" 

Immediately, his calm demeanor changed to a more nervous one. 

Curly: "Hehehehe, what are you talking about?"

"I had the strangest conversation with your friend Jimmy, you told me he was a good guy, but damn, he's an idiot!" 

Curly: "Oh- um- and what did he say?"

"He started calling you less of a man and those things, he even called you a woman, I thought it was a bit exaggerated."

Curly: "Well... About that..."

"...Why would you hide something like this from me??"

Curly: "I didn't know how you were going to react... I like you a lot and I don't want to lose you..."

"Fool, it's not worth hiding those things, sooner or later they come to light, and it's better to say them beforehand." 

Both sighed and rested their heads in their hands. 

Curly: "You're going to leave me, aren't you? It's okay if you do it..."

"What?"

Curly: "At this point, this is where everyone leaves... For women, I was never a 'real man,' and for those who like women, I was never quite a woman, so... no one was satisfied with me after finding out that I am trans. " 

"I'm angry because you didn't tell me earlier. Not because you were born a woman"

Curly: "...Are you not going to leave me?"

"How could I leave the best man in the world?"

When he saw your smile and heard what you said, he couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and joy. 

At that moment, your drinks were brought to you, and you continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, talking about your jobs and friends, catching up after not having seen each other for a while.

You had decided to go to his house, you wanted to stay for dinner and sleep with him. 

"Was that you??" 

You said, surprised, looking at some photos from when he was a teenager, before testosterone. 

The two sitting on the couch in their living room. 

Curly: "Yeah... They always told me I looked very masculine, so I tried to look as feminine as possible so they wouldn't talk weird about me, but I think I just looked dumber." 

"You were so beautiful! You have always been handsome your whole life, it's unfair!"

You buried your face in his chest and hit him a couple of times softly, until you stopped and looked at him. 

Curly: "There's nothing left" he laughed lightly as if he could read what you were thinking. 

"Can I see?"

He blushed a little at your proposal, but he was quick to please you and take off his shirt. 

You attentively observed his scars, carefully touching them with the tips of your fingers. 

"I love them" 

Curly: "And i love yours," he smiled, seeing how focused you were on his chest. 

He became somewhat curious when you started looking at his face and chest repeatedly; he suspected you were up to something and confirmed it when you bit his chest out of nowhere. 

That was the greatest show of affection you could give him. 

"By the way! You need to work on your friendships. "

You told him when you stopped biting him, he was lying on the couch breathing heavily from how you had attacked him, his entire chest and neck marked with small bites and hickeys.

Curly: "Can we talk about that later?"

He said with a sigh and his cheeks red. 

"Of course" 

You smiled to climb on top of him and kiss his lips. 

You felt his hands resting on your thighs and then slowly sliding down to your butt to squeeze it. 

You let out a small sigh between your lips, causing him to pull away from you. 

Curly: "Are you sure about this?"

"More than sure" 

You confirmed it and let out a squeal when he grabbed you to carry you, getting up from the couch ready to take you to his room. 

When he laid you down on the bed, he immediately began kissing your neck and slipped his hands inside your shirt, trying to unfasten your bra. 

You felt his hands glide over your body to take off your shirt, momentarily parting from your neck to get rid of it and then placing a kiss back on your lips. 

He gave you a smile before turning to your breasts to start kissing them first, then licking them, and finally dedicating all his attention to your nipples, one in his mouth and the other being massaged by his left hand. 

He sucked, pressed with his lips, and moved his tongue in circles over one, while with the other he gently pulled and twisted, making them hard, causing you to arch your back while letting out small moans. 

Curly: "You sound so lovely..." 

"I didn't know you could be so eager..." 

You laughed a little until you saw him run his tongue between your breasts and then down to your stomach, leaving a kiss on it before he started to take off your pants.

"Hey! I'm not a rag doll!" 

You shook your legs to prevent him from completely removing the lower part of your clothes, it didn't bother you at all but you felt a bit lazy letting him do everything. 

You finished taking off your pants by yourself, left only in your underwear, sat on his bed, and smiled. 

"You have more clothes than I do."

Curly: "And if we leave that for another day? It doesn't bother me at all to please you today."

"Pants down"

You said it almost like an order, crossing your arms.

He sighed to start unbuttoning his pants, and as he lowered them, you saw that he was wearing boxers, but what caught your attention the most was the hair peeking out from the lower part of his stomach. 

"...Jungle?"

Curly: "Don't say it like that!"

"I see that the curtains match the rugs. "

Curly: "Don't keep on with that"

You let out a giggle and pushed him, making him fall back onto the bed. You rested your cheek on his thigh, playing with the edge of his boxers between your fingers, then slowly pulling them down to his knees. 

"Oh wow-" 

You just said that and Curly was already covering his face with his arms. 

You had never seen an erect clit in your life, but you didn't mind it at all, not to mention the amount of hair covering that area. 

You couldn't help but lean in and soon take it into your mouth to suck it, surprised when he suddenly lifted his hips and his legs trembled, perhaps you hadn't considered the sensitivity of that part. 

When you tried to pull away, his hands went to your head, pushing you against his pussy. 

Curly: "No, no, no, please don't stop"

And those words were enough for you to continue with the pleasure of that man, too immersed in his moans, not wanting to stop and even exploring a bit more by inserting two of your fingers inside him, giving him goosebumps. 

Curly: "Yesss, keep going like that- a little more- a little more and-!"

You could only drown your moan in his intimacy when his legs pushed you even more against him at the moment he reached his orgasm. 

Little by little, his trembling legs slid down your back, leaving you free, finally lifting your head with your cheeks red and your face all wet.. 

"Bleh"

You stuck out your tongue to get a hair off it, and both of you ended up looking at each other and then laughing for the same reason. 

Curly: "I think I got carried away-"

"Do you think so?" 

You murmured to lean over him and kiss his lips.

Curly: "Eew, you are soaked."

"Now you deal with it" 

They laughed as you planted kisses all over their face. 

Curly: "If you want to soak my face, do it like this"

He took your sides and pulled you up until your stomach was against his face, he started kissing you, tickling you, and making you sit on his chest.

"Hehehe what are you- oh my God-"

You let out a moan when he took your sides and ended up dragging you to his face, moving your panties aside with his teeth and inserting his tongue in an instant. 

You were definitely going to seriously consider moving in with him. 

[30somethingautisticteacher]

The drunk woman was relentless, invading Tommy's personal space as he tried to step back. He kept flashing his ring, but either she hadn't noticed or simply didn't care. Tommy glanced at his watch, grateful Evan hadn't arrived yet to see this mess.

"I'm just a poor girl all alone and new to the city," she slurred, pressing closer. "Can you help me get home safely? You can drive me, and then you can come up and I can thank you properly." She traced a finger down his arm. "I'm sure your wife wouldn't mind."

'Okay, she just doesn't care,' Tommy thought, taking a step back.

"I'm sure the bartender would be happy to call a cab for you," he said firmly.

"But you're so big and strong. I would feel so protected," she pouted, swaying slightly.

"I'm flattered, but I'm sure you'll be plenty safe," Tommy said, maintaining his distance. "And my husband won't like you all over me."

"Husband?" the woman spat, her flirtatious demeanor instantly shifting. "Seriously, you're gay?" Her slurred voice dripped with disdain.

It was at that exact moment that Evan appeared.

"Oh, he's very, very gay," Evan said, draping his arms over Tommy's shoulders and pulling him in for a steamy kiss.

"Hi, baby," Tommy said when they broke apart, his earlier tension melting away at his husband's presence.

"You can go now," Evan said dismissively to the woman.

"You're the husband?" she scoffed, looking Evan up and down with obvious judgment. "What a waste."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Evan asked, his voice sharpening. Tommy could feel him tensing up beside him.

"Not worth it, sweetheart," Tommy said softly, squeezing Evan's hand. He knew that tone in his husband's voice - the one that meant someone had struck a nerve.

"No, I want to know," Evan insisted, his jaw set. The playful possessiveness from moments ago had been replaced by something harder, more defensive. "What exactly is being wasted here?"

"Your lifestyle," she sneered, waving her hand dismissively. "Two big, strong, handsome men shacking up together."

"Shacking up?" Evan said, his voice dangerously quiet. The woman had crossed a line, and Tommy knew his husband well enough to recognize when he was about to snap.

"We're not shacking up," Evan continued, holding up his left hand where his wedding ring caught the bar lights. "We're married. Legally married. I walked down an aisle, said vows, signed papers, and promised to love this man for the rest of my life. And you know what? It was the best decision I ever made."

Tommy's heart swelled, watching his husband defend their marriage.

"So no, it's not a waste. What would be a waste is if I pretended to be something I'm not just to make people like you comfortable. Now if you'll excuse us, I'd like to have a drink with my husband."

"You people," the girl said, shaking her head in disgust.

Tommy felt Evan stiffen next to him, ready for another round, but this time Tommy stepped forward. He'd let Evan handle it his way, now it was his turn.

"Ah, 'you people,'" Tommy said, his voice calm but firm. "Let me tell you about 'us people.' My husband and I are first responders. We put our lives on the line every single day for others - including people who think like you do. I spent years hiding who I was because of that kind of hatred, afraid to be myself. But then I finally accepted who I really was, and that opened my heart to the possibility of love. And I found it - real, earth-shattering, life-changing love."

He pulled Evan closer, feeling his husband relax against him. "So the only waste here would be letting people like you make us ashamed of something so beautiful."

Tommy turned away from the woman, effectively dismissing her. "Come on, baby."

The woman slunk away into the crowd, her previous bravado gone.

"You ok, babe?" Evan asked, turning to Tommy with concern.

"Are you kidding?" Tommy said, pulling him closer by his belt loops. "That was extremely sexy watching you tell her off like that. Look how far my little baby bi has come."

"Couldn't have done it without you," Evan said softly.

"You know, I'm actually more hungry than thirsty," Tommy said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, is that so?" Evan replied, a knowing smirk spreading across his face."Well, we should probably do something about that."

"Yeah, we probably better," Tommy said, pulling Evan in for a heated kiss.

When they broke apart, Evan was speechless. He shook his head. "But not here."

"Right, right, let's get out of here."

They stumbled out of the bar together, Tommy tugging Evan along by their joined hands. Their laughter mixed with the night air, any trace of anger long forgotten replaced by the joy of just being together.

[fuck-customers]

I just have to vent to someone about this: I work in a convenience store. It gets real slow sometimes, so there's a few customers I'll chat with to pass the time. But I have an annoying customer that comes in almost everyday, sometimes multiple times a day, to complain about his dog. He used to be totally silent and honestly pretty rude to me, but one day I was talking to the woman in front of him while I was checking her out and I casually mentioned that my mother and grandmother both trained dogs, so I picked up a lot from them. Since then he's decided I'm supposed to help him with all his dog training woes.

Apparently his old dog passed away a few months ago and she was super easy and calm, so he decided to go out and get another dog. He showed me a picture of her and she looked like some sort of cattle dog mixed with dalmatian, maybe with some malamute or husky thrown in. He complains that she's nothing like his old dog, she's constantly whining and barking and never sits still and she's destroyed his furniture. And I try to be sympathetic but like... buddy. Your old dog was a senior dachshund and your new dog is a nightmare amalgamation of high energy, high maintenance dogs. I'm surprised she hasn't torn your house apart board by board. I tried telling him as gently as possible that high energy dogs like her need a job to do, or at least lots of exercise to get her energy out, but apparently he doesn't want to listen.

He also acts like the dog has like.. a personal vendetta against him? He says things like "(old dog) knew I have to get at least 6 hours of sleep every night or I can't function, but (new dog) wakes me up on purpose every night. (old dog) would never treat me this way." I eventually had to be like "You.. do know nothing a dog does is personal, right? If she's acting out it's because her needs aren't being met or she hasn't been trained properly. I think you're anthropomorphizing her too much."

He just stared at me blankly before being like "What did you just say?"

"Uh. You're anthropomorphizing her too much?"

"What does that mean?"

I proceed to tell him that animals aren't people and it's useless to prescribe certain human emotions or thought processes to them. Like.. the dog isn't trying to disrupt your sleep because she hates you, she just probably has to pee. Or she's feeling pent up because she didn't get walked enough. He was quiet for a little bit again before being like "I never thought about that. You're actually kinda smart, I didn't expect that."

I awkwardly fake laughed and was like "What, did you think I dropped out of 3rd grade or something?" and he, with the most serious look on his face, said "Well you work here for a reason."

So he basically admitted to my face he's been bothering me for dog advice for WEEKS but hasn't been taking any of it because he thought I was stupid and beneath him. Just... why. 😑

Posted by admin Rodney

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 97)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (73) / Alexia Putellas x Character (49)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((4.1k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter every Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

ALEXIA POV

“Are we sure..?” Alexia asked.

The trio nodded. She clicked ‘post.’ It was a simple thing, an Instagram story with photos of their time away together. There was the plane with Alexia flying, the tiramisu featuring Ridley’s hands, the beach with their hut and both an almost naked Ridley and little Chiquito in the distance, Chiquito sitting on a table with this tail curled around over top of his paws, both of the photos of Alexia with the floating lanterns, and her kissing Ridley.

It was a post she’d never thought she’d get to put on social media, as much as she wanted to. And the only thing making her uncomfortable was the caption that was agreed on by Ridley, Duce and Beckett.

It was written in Spanish first, and then English.

*Our little paradise. London here we come.*

Her phone began buzzing almost immediately. Messages started flooding in. Comments. Likes. Support.

YFN liked your post.

Jenni Hermoso commented on your post: Whaaaat? I’m not sure which is more surprising, the girlfriend or the cat. Call me.

Mapi León liked your post.

Lucy Bronze MBE liked your post.

Lucy Bronze MBE commented on your post: Double date? *food emoji*

Ingrid Engen liked your post.

YFN commented on your post: Well this has just made my entire month *red heart emoji* love you both!

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes and smile as she put her phone down. She truly had amazing friends.

But in the back of her mind, it made her uneasy knowing that someone who wanted Ridley dead would read it. She tried to take the positive with the negative.

She and Ridley were now officially public. She’d been monitoring Ridley’s expression, worried she’d find regret, though there was none. Her expression seemed to reflect Alexia’s own. Happiness.

The plane journey was over ten hours so they ate dinner and shortly after, both Duce and Beckett fell asleep on the large couches in the main area. They seemed at peace for once. No one could hurt them in the sky. She saw their hands extended towards one enough and pondered at it. One look at Ridley’s expression and she confirmed that they were, in fact, a thing.

Ridley pulled blankets up over them and led Alexia to the bedroom. Immediately inside, her back hit the wall as Ridley’s mouth came down on hers.

“Fuck, Lee.” She moaned into her.

Where it came from, she didn’t know. But she wasn't complaining.

Ridley’s hand worked its way up her shirt and slide under her bra, her thumb stroking across her nipple. Alexia couldn’t help rocking her hips forwards into her. She bit her lip in return, tugging it.

“Lex.. I need something from you.” She managed to get out in between their hungry mouths.

Alexia returned them before she responded. She grabbed Ridley by the hair and pushed into her but god, was she strong.

“Anything…” she moaned. “Anything.”

They kissed more, their hands wandering and feeling as many things as possible. Alexia loved all of Ridley but in particular her back. Those strong shoulders. Her abs. And her goddamned face.

Ridley’s hands moved over Alexia’s footballer muscles that she loved so much. Alexia’s thighs, her ass, and also her neck.

“Alexia,” she murmured into her neck. Her breathing was a little distorted. Was Ridley nervous?

“Tell me…” Alexia said, taking her face between her hands. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me, Alexia.”

Alexia stopped dead, realising exactly what she was asking. It was not a new fact that Ridley was bisexual. She’d had sex with men before. She’d taken her fingers. But she’d never not been in control. Not since… an incident in high school where she’d not had a choice. A discussion they’d had on the island..

Their equal sex was different. Ridley had never been in a submissive position.

Right now, she was asking for that. She was asking for Alexia to be that dominant person she could be. La Reina.

“You want that?” She whispered.

“Only with you.”

The level of trust in her eyes melted Alexia. She wanted to cry. But that was superseded by that dominant side of her. She kissed her and nodded into her lips. “Stop me at any time.”

Ridley didn’t need to respond, but she knew she heard her. Alexia shoved her back against the opposite wall, hard. Her mouth landed on hers needily and Ridley just… accepted it.

Another wall lowered. Another piece of Ridley opening up to her.

Alexia pulled the shirt over her head, dragging her sports bra with it. She kissed her way down her neck, savouring her way down to her chest and took one of her nipples into her mouth, sucking. This was one of Ridley's favourite things.

Ridley groaned, her hand fisting the back of Alexia’s hair while her other, injured hand braced on the door. Alexia worked her like that until Ridley was fidgeting, and then lowered to her knees, dragging her remaining clothes down off her. This wasn’t new, as she was so used to and comfortable being naked. The new thing was the lack of decision making. The laying there and taking it. Alexia leant forward, kissing her core and rising, trailing her fingers up the insides of her thighs. When she reached her mouth, she dipped her fingers between her folds to that glorious warm, wetness as her lips parted on hers.

“Bed, Lee.”

Ridley wandered naked to the bed, Alexia admiring her ass before turning and ensuring the door was locked, placing her shoes in front of it.

Just like Ridley liked. It was peace of mind.

Nothing about their sex was generic or mechanical. Ridley needed to be comfortable and loved to be put into the position she was and be happy with it. And so, for what felt like hours, they rolled around, kissing and touching. Tasting and rubbing. Everything possible that was more than sex. It was intimacy.

Only when both she and Ridley were perfectly ready did Alexia slip the strap in. It’s something she’d said she would do to her before, though she never though she’d be able to like this.

Ridley was on her back, her legs raised slightly, head dropped back as Alexia’s hips moved between her legs. Her knees were braced like the many, many times she’d done it before, though now it was different. Ridley didn’t want to be fucked. She wanted to be loved. She needed to feel her there. Alexia knew that which is why she let her body slide along her as she moved with a steady pace.

She didn’t watch her. Didn’t assert dominance. Alexia simply placed her head on her shoulder and cherished the feel of their bodies slipping back and forth over each other as she fucked her.

Ridley is mine.

Ridley is mine.

She kissed her as she moved in her; kissing her neck, shoulder, jaw, wherever she could reach.

When the wet sound of Ridley’s body started to sound like they were tightening, she double her efforts, bracing and quickening the pace slightly. She didn’t need it fast; she’d realised over their times together. She just needed it reliably, and towards the end, hard.

God, the sound of Alexia’s hips slapping into Ridley would be something she’d never forget.

She didn’t make many sounds, though she hadn’t expected her to beyond the gasping in between thrusts.

“Please don’t stop.” Ridley begged in admission.

“Never. I love you.” Alexia responded, her mouth now against her ear. “I love you, Ridley. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

“Al…Ale. Lex. Fuck. Fuck me.”

Hearing Ridley beg broke her. She needed this. No one could give her this except Alexia.

Her body was burning, but she loved it. She’d never stop for anything. Never. The sounds of the strap fucking in and out of her. The rising sound of Ridley’s ragged breathing and gasping as she held on. The knowledge of the barrier that they’d just crossed.

A few more minutes of reliable fucking later, and Ridley was coming hard under her letting out a strangled cry. Alexia felt her body tensing shortly after at the sound of her alone.

Two bodies convulsing together.

Tightening together.

Coming down together.

She took the strap out as soon as she was able, knowing that’s what she would have wanted. Alexia dropped it to the floor and moved up the bed, pulling Ridley’s head to her chest.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn't have to.

Alexia kissed and stroked her hair as they fell asleep.

The feeling of fingertips stroking up and down her lat woke Alexia. She woke to realise that she was still holding Ridley’s head to her chest where she was lying silently, her eyes open and thinking. When she realised Alexia was awake, she tilted her head back to look at her.

She was worried for a second that she’d find regret or shame, but she found none of those. Instead, those favourite dark eyes of hers were… peaceful. Calm. Pondering over other things. Alexia tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, the pad of her thumb trailing around the outside of it, over her piercings. Ridley loved her hair stroked like that. Her eyes fluttered closed when Alexia’s hand pulled back and stroked again through her hair, her nails dragging over her scalp and sending shivers down her spine. She did that a few more times until her body twitched itself like it did when she was always close to falling asleep.

“We’ll be landing… in an hour…” she managed to mumble out sleepily.

“We have time to sleep a little more…”

“Mmn.” Was the only response she got from the Australian. A few strokes later and she was back asleep, the worries that she was pondering were gone. Alexia kept stroking until she knew she was fast asleep, and then rested her cheek on her head, letting herself drift off as she held the person she loved most in the world.

After a sappy shower and they watched each other unfortunately put their clothes back on, they rejoined the others in the main cabin. Ridley took Alexia up into the cockpit to greet the pilots and showed her the cockpit setup, pointing out all of the differences and similarities to the other aircraft they’d flown together. After that, they settled down in their seats for landing.

Duce and Beckett were now awake and discussing the plan of attack for the second location with Chiquito waiting patiently on Ridley’s seat as if he was a part of the conversation. His sleepy expression gave away the fact that he had also been sleeping for the past few hours.

Alexia sat down and he jumped onto her lap. She cuddled into him and he into her, as she kissed him on his purring cheek.

“Is there not going to be lots of... people, who go by accident to the wrong location? It was posted wrong…” She queried.

“That’s exactly how we want it,” Duce said. “It wouldn’t exactly be believable if they arrived and no one was there. We’ll have the building covered by our team undercover as usual security, with one entrance poorly manned. When he’s in, we’ll go. Ridley will draw him all the way there.”

Alexia felt uneasy again. She knew it was what they did for a living. She knew that Ridley had been in this situation, and worse, many times over. The scars littering her body proved that. But still – it was an uncomfortable thought.

Ridley noticed her discomfort and leant over to kiss her softly on the cheek. Alexia closed her eyes and leant into it.

It was their first intimate moment in front of anyone.

They landed just after 1430 local time in London. A car was waiting for them at the airport, with an excited looking Lucy and Blau outside. She was now standing without crutches, and even walked her way over to them. Ridley and Alexia closed the gap quickly to ensure she wouldn’t move too far. Ridley caught Blau in her arms gently and lifted her.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hey Riddles. I really missed you.”

Lucy caught Alexia in a similar hug, and although it wasn’t usually their thing, it felt right.

“Hola capitana. Chiquito.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “Hola Lucia.”

Lucy hugged her tightly before pulling back. Her eyes flicked from Ridley back to her. “Good holiday?”

“The best.”

“Oh, we saw your post.” Ridley put Blau down and turned to her, extending a hand. Lucy ignored it and pulled her into a hug instead.

“Ridley.”

“Bronze.”

“Been taking care of my girl?”

“My girl? Of course.”

Alexia and Blau shared a look, rolling their eyes. The Spaniard bent down and hugged the woman most precious to Ridley. Blau had become such a large part of her life as well, and she always had that calming, comfortable presence about her. The hug was no exception.

They both felt like they didn’t want to let go.

“Hola Ale.”

She smiled at the Spanish. “Hola, Blau.”

After a while, they let go and looked at each other. Blau touched her cheek. “You look…” she paused while she thought. “…happy. Really, really happy.”

“I am.” She admitted huskily.

They turned to their loud mouthed partners going at it.

“Don’t even try to lie, Bronze. I can fucking smell it on you.”

“What are you, the sex police?”

“Maybe I am.”

“You try to stop her getting what she wants.”

Ridley groaned and covered her ears.

“Oh don’t you start. You think I smell like sex? What about you two? I’m surprised you both didn’t come back pregnant.”

“You really do have a pregnancy kink, huh?”

Lucy groaned and looked over to Blau who was just enjoying the show.

Ridley turned to Alexia with a cheeky grin.

It was obviously a joke, yet something they hadn’t spoken about before. She made a note to do so.

“Come on you two, we need to get a lot done before the party tonight.” Blau said.

“Party?” Alexia asked.

“Just casual drinks. Leah and Jordan are having a joint engagement and Jordan’s birthday party tonight. Nothing too big!”

Ridley’s face went slightly more serious. Alexia knew why. She was pondering the safety of such an event.

“Are you two hungry?”

“We could eat,” Ridley replied. “But we do need to talk…”

Lucy and Blau held questions in their eyes until the figures of Duce and Beckett appeared.

It was an overwhelming sense of relief to be back in Ridley’s apartment. Ever since they stepped foot on the ground in London she’d felt on edge, but the apartment was different. It was safe. It was home. Chiquito himself was happier again, running around to ensure everything was the way they left it. Benjami and Richard were there and greeted them both with wide smiles.

“I’m so happy it worked out like I hoped…” Benjami had whispered to her in Catalan.

The couple took their belongings upstairs before they had a chance to argue against it. Ridley went upstairs to put her guitar in her studio while Alexia found herself in Ridley’s room, staring at the bed. Benjami and Richard had placed their luggage in the one room. Cheeky.

Two arms slid around her waist and she leant back into the warmth of Ridley. “Would you be more comfortable here or in the guest bedroom..?”

Alexia was surprised by the question and tensed.

“Let me rephrase that.” Ridley murmured, lips close to her ear and her voice dangerously low. “Would you be more comfortable for us to sleep in this room, or for us to sleep in the guest bedroom?”

Ah, that was better. She felt her body relax. “I’ve always liked this room. The bed is very comfortable too.”

A hesitation from Ridley made Alexia smile. “You… have been in this bed?”

Alexia turned and placed her hands on her. “I slept in your bed with Chiquito the night before we left London.”

She loved catching Ridley off guard. Her expression softened. “Our bed, Lex.” She kissed her softly just once. “Our bed. Our apartment. Okay?”

Alexia was worried how husky with emotion her voice would be if she spoke so instead, she nodded.

Ridley stepped back, her fingertips lightly gripping onto Alexia’s. “Come.”

Alexia followed her as she led them out of her bedroom, past the gym where they’d spent so much time, and to Ridley’s office. Once inside, she noticed where Ridley was looking. The portrait of Chiquito she’d painted for her. Benjami had put it up as she’d asked.

“I never got the chance to thank you for this… it’s beautiful. I was thinking we could redo half of the library across the hall into a studio for you, if you’d like?”

There was nothing that set of her emotions quite like talking about future plans, and changing the layout of an entire room was not a small thing.

Again, she nodded to avoid being too emotional. Ridley noticed, though. She always did. She smiled something genuine and reached out to touch the smiling sun on Alexia’s necklace.

“Happy?”

“Happy.” She whispered.

They all sat down to a late lunch and spoke of the plan to capture Bashir. Alexia was not only impressed by how professionally Lucy and Blau took it, but just how many in depth questions Blau had that Alexia hadn’t thought to ask. She was not only protecting her business, but her friends. And for every single one of her questions, Duce and Beckett had an answer.

Their plan wasn’t foolproof, and they knew that, but they had done this thousands of times successfully.

“The event won’t be affected?” Lucy asked.

“No. You should hear nothing at all. We’ll keep it as quiet as possible, and the most you should see is Ridley arriving at your event after we’ve detained him. This is a high end operation.”

“And the party tonight at the pub is okay…?”

“We’re handling the specifics now. The SAS are in contact with the pub and putting security measures in place as we speak.”

“So what now..?”

“Nothing changes for you all.” Duce confirmed.

“Now Luce,” Blau explained, putting her hand on hers and answering the actual question she knew her girlfriend was asking, “Riddles and I are going shopping for outfits for us all tomorrow. And you can go with Ale to kick around the football. You’ve been groaning about how long it’s been, and Ale is the best. We’ll all meet back here and go to the party.”

“And Duce and Beckett will be staying here with us until the situation is resolved.” Ridley added, looking to Alexia.

Duce kept working with her intelligence team over in the living room, sending messages and taking calls while Beckett was up and checking his gear. She’d never seen a gun in person before, and since meeting Ridley’s team, she’d now seen enough weapons for a lifetime.

Ridley leant over and kissed her on the temple. “Are you okay with me picking your outfit for tonight?”

Alexia was proud of her fashion sense, but even she admitted no one rivalled Ridley in that. “No one has ever chosen for me beyond my stylist…”

“Oh baby, I’m far better than your stylist.” She quipped cockily. “But if it makes you happy, I will liaise with her about that, and your makeup and hair.”

She disappeared then with Lucy to clear the table. Alexia could see Blau struggle to stand and helped her.

“Thank you. It’s really difficult when I have to keep this leg straight.”

“It is okay,” she chuckled with sympathy. “I understand you. My knee.. my ACL you call? It was the dark dark time for me. I know how hard it is but I never had this too.” She gestured to her sling and then looked at her jaw. “This is… better?”

Blau nodded. One thing Alexia loved about Blau was that she always understood her and never judged her English. “That’s better. The next thing off will be the knee brace, and then the sling. Lucy’s been amazing.”

She looked over to her and Alexia followed her gaze to see her talking to Ridley in the kitchen as they put the food away.

“Things are good?”

“Things are perfect,” she replied, happy as she always was. Lucy’s little positive ball of light. “And I’d ask the same but I can already see the answer…”

“Mmn. We are… we work on things together. We both want us.”

“And she’s opening up?”

“More than I think she would. We need to find way to make this works with all things.”

“Ah, yes. With you almost ready to start playing again and with Ridley and her company..”

“Sí.”

Blau paused, her face pondering. “Are you happy with her to keep doing her other job?”

Alexia followed her gaze to Duce and Beckett who were now both in the living room talking quietly.

“I… don’t… we have not talk about it.”

Blau didn’t respond to that. She simply looked at Alexia who understood what she was waiting for. She hadn’t answered the question. She looked over at Ridley. “I don’t want her to change. That is big part of who she is.”

“It is. It will always be. But it’s also okay to want your partner safe.”

Ridley looked over as if she knew what they were speaking about. “She will always come home to me.”

“Yes… I think you’re right about that.”

When they were finished putting away the food, Blau called across the room. “Come on, Riddles! I’m not going to be late for this party.”

Ridley rolled her eyes and the pair wandered over. Lucy leant down to kiss Blau.

“Don’t overdo it,” she warned her.

“Promise. Just some practice and some fun.” Lucy replied.

Ridley’s fingertips brushed against Alexia’s and she turned to catch her eyes. They were a little melancholy. It would be the first time they’d properly been apart since Ridley had left.

“We’ll be home soon. Take care of your knee, Lex.”

Alexia didn’t reply. She simply stepped forward and kissed her for the first time in front of their friends.

The party was more casual drinks with many footballers having much more alcohol than they should during season. Alexia didn’t mind. Ridley was by her side the entire night, her head on a swivel in the public area.

They caught up with many footballers who were gushing about Alexia’s post, though the most important was Leah and Jordan. They congratulated them both and the aura of pure happiness around them was contagious. They spoke about the engagement, the games, Ridley and Alexia’s holiday with the floating lanterns, and the Lumos event the next day. Blau had kept the event down to several high-profile footballers such as Alexia, Lucy, Leah, Jordan, Katie, Viv, Ellie, Wendie, Georgia, Lena as well as other popular players from other leagues who work with Lumos. The idea was the showcase the direction they were headed and to promote women’s football across the leagues. There would be many key stakeholders, their own media as well as other public news outlets, merchandise, sponsors etc to push Lumos into the spotlight.

“You said something about a big opening event next year?” Katie asked.

“Oh… yes. This is just a little event to help us gain traction for the rest of the season.” Blau explained. “But in six months, when we’re on our feet and running smoothly, we’ll have our big Welcome to Lumos event where we present our goals and ambitions.”

“One question. Will there be alcohol?”

“You really think I wouldn’t have alcohol for my favourite Irishwoman? Who am I, the Pope?”

Katie chuckled and excused herself as she went over to Caitlin who was calling her for a photo.

Suddenly, Alexia felt a pulling on her waist and followed Ridley as she bee-lined for a table in the corner where Duce and Beckett were.

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked as she and Blau joined them.

They looked at Duce who was silent, staring at an alert on her phone. Ridley knew her friend so well that she had noticed the change in her demeanour from across the pub.

“Duce?” Beckett prompted. Duce’s jaw locked as she read.

“He’s disappeared. We’ve lost Bashir.”

[redocity]

hello, i was wondering if you could do a smut about buck?

Maybe have it where reader has been feeling really insecure lately and buck is like “i’ll fuck you until i hear that you believe it yourself” like he wants her to know that he thinks she beautiful and he wants her to see it

if you can’t that’s totally fine ❤️

PUZZLE PIECES — E.BUCKLEY

you are buck’s person, and he’ll be damned if you doubt that for even a second.

evan buckley x fem!reader | 2.9k | smut | masterlist.

WARNINGS | 18+ MDNI, reader is insecure about herself and her relationship with buck, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv, a lot of whining and general begging, creampie, couch sex

a/n — “i’ll put this in my drafts and upload it after work” she said, *proceeds to forget it exists for four days*

sorry about the wait 😭

The thought had crept in slowly, quiet at first, but lately, it seemed to be everywhere. You would be sitting on the couch, watching Buck’s profile as he talked about his day with that familiar smile and bright eyes, and it would be there, the nagging voice that whispered, He deserves better.

At first, you brushed it off, but each time he did something thoughtful or made you laugh, the voice grew a little louder.

Buck was… everything.

He was kind and funny, dependable and brave, always there for anyone who needed him. And in your quieter moments, you’d find yourself questioning whether you could really be what he needed.

What did you have to offer someone like him?

He seemed to pick up on your change in mood quickly. A few times, you’d caught him watching you, brow furrowed, as though he could see right through you. You’d just smile, trying to reassure him that everything was fine, but he knew better.

Buck was perceptive in a way that sometimes made you feel as though he could see things about you that even you didn’t know.

One evening, as you were lost in thought, he suddenly plopped down beside you on the couch, sliding in close. “Alright, talk to me,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

You blinked, startled. “About what?”

His hand found yours, fingers warm and steady as he held onto you. “About what’s got you looking like that,” he replied, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin. “You’ve been so quiet lately. And it’s not like you. Something’s wrong.”

You swallowed, your gaze falling to your lap as you tried to find the words. “It’s… nothing, really.”

“Nothing?” he asked softly, still watching you, but you could hear the worry in his voice. “Babe, come on. We both know that’s not true.”

The truth tumbled out in bits and pieces, a little awkward and halting. You told him about the doubts that had been haunting you, how you’d started feeling like maybe he’d be better off with someone else. Someone who could give him more, be more. You didn’t even dare look at him while you spoke, afraid of what you might see on his face.

There was a long silence after you finished, and your heart pounded with nerves. You expected him to try to reassure you, to brush it off or tell you not to worry. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm, filled with an unshakeable certainty.

“I mean this with all the love in the world,” he started, and when you glanced up, he was gazing at you with a look so fierce it almost took your breath away. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

The incredulity in his voice caught you off guard. “Buck…”

“Hey.” He cupped your face, tilting it up so you couldn’t look anywhere but into those intense, unwavering blue eyes. “There’s no one on this earth who’s better for me than you. No one.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, slow and deliberate. “I’m not letting you go that easily.”

You felt your throat tighten, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you know by now? I was made for you.” His voice trailed off with a kiss against your lips, soft and gentle, as though he were trying to convey what words couldn’t. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

And he wasn’t done, it seemed. He took your hands, held them to his chest as he pressed little kisses on each of your fingers, down to your palms, his lips gentle and warm against your skin. “Do you feel that?” he murmured, his hand covering yours over his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your fingers. “That’s yours. Always has been.”

His touch drifted from your hands up to your face as he kissed you again, brushing his lips across your forehead, your cheeks, even the bridge of your nose. Each kiss felt like a promise, a wordless way of saying everything you hadn’t been able to believe.

You tried to speak, but he stopped you with a gentle shush, moving his kisses down the column of your neck to your shoulder, as if every inch of you was something sacred that he wanted to worship.

“I’m not stopping until you believe me,” he murmured against your skin, his hands steady and sure as he wrapped them around you. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you. Always.”

“I’m a mess,” you murmured as his lips worked to create a path of fire down your collarbone and along the swell of your breast, teasing the hemline of your v-neck with his lips. “I’m—”

“Perfect,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire as his mouth found the valley between your breasts and the sensitive skin of your chest. “You’re perfect for me.”

You shivered under his touch and a gasp broke free from your lips as he moved back up to your mouth, capturing it in another kiss.

He pulled away for a moment to look you in the eye, his breathing as ragged as yours, his gaze full of pure, honest desire. “You’re it for me,” he said, his voice a low, husky rumble. “There’s no one else I want. Just you. Only you.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but he pressed his thumb to your lips, cutting off your words. “Don’t fight me on this,” he murmured. “Let me show you how perfect you are for me.”

With that, he crashed his lips to yours again, his tongue delving into your mouth as he encouraged you back against the couch. His hands were everywhere, his touch gentle yet urgent as he pushed your shirt up, his palms hot against your bare skin.

You arched into him, your body desperate for his touch, your hands seeking purchase on his arms.

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over your head, his hands immediately returning to explore your newly exposed skin. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down the valley between your breasts and along your stomach. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You shivered under his touch, your breath catching in your throat, every nerve in your body on fire. “Buck…” you gasped, the word more of a plea than anything else. “Please… I need…”

Buck’s eyes darkened slight with desire, his fingers hooking into the waist of your sweatpants and pulling them and your underwear down in one swift motion, baring you to him completely. “I know what you need,” he murmured, his mouth trailing kisses down your hip and inner thigh. “I’m going to give you everything you need, baby. Just trust me.”

He moved between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider for him. A thrill of anticipation shot through you as his breath ghosted over your core, his lips following the path his breath had taken. “Beautiful,” he repeated, his voice a low, reverential murmur against your skin. "Absolutely perfect for me,”

He ran his tongue tentatively along the length of your slit, drawing a shudder from you, his hands gripping your thighs tight as he teased you, taking his time to lavish attention on every inch of you. You arched against him, your hips rolling, seeking more of his touch. “Please,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, trying to pull him closer. "Please, Buck…”

Buck’s grip on your thighs tightened at your words, a low grumble rumbling in his throat. “Not yet, baby,” he said, his breath hot against your core. “I’m not done showing you how perfect you are.” He gave your hip a gentle squeeze. "Relax. Let me show you.”

With that, he licked a long, slow stripe up through your folds, his tongue flicking against your clit briefly before moving back down, drawing another shudder from you. He repeated the motion, over and over, his tongue working with purpose to show you how deeply he was lost in you, in the feel of you, the taste of you.

Every touch of his tongue was a jolt of pleasure, your nails digging into his scalp as you arched against him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Buck—” you gasped, your thighs quivering under his grip. “Please, I can’t—”

Buck pulled away, his chin glistening with your arousal as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. “You can,” he said, his voice a low, raspy rumble. “You will. Just a little longer, baby.” He teased a finger into your entrance, and your breath caught in your throat again. “I just need to make sure you’re ready for me.”

He moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a bruising kiss, his body pressing you down into the couch. You could feel the hard length of him, still trapped in his jeans, and you rocked against him, desperate for more. “Buck, please,” you gasped. “I need you, please…”

“Soon, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his hips rocking against yours, just enough to make you gasp again. “Soon. I promise.”

He reached between your bodies, undoing the button on his jeans and pushing them down his hips just enough to free himself, the hot length of him resting against your thigh as he kissed you again. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice a low, reverential murmur. “So perfect for me.”

His hands gripped your hips, angling them up to meet him, and he began to press into you, slowly, inch by inch.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensations, the stretch of him filling you, the heat of him surrounding you, the pleasure of the friction as he moved inside of you.

“Perfect,” he murmured again, his lips against your ear. “So goddamn perfect, god I was made to be with you like this,”

He began to move after a few stationary moments, his hips rocking against yours in a steady, measured rhythm, your bodies moving together in a desperate dance, the pleasure building with every movement. “You feel that, baby?” he gasped, his voice rough with desire. “You feel how well you moulded to fit me?”

You nodded mutely, your voice lost in a gasp as the pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter with every stroke, every touch of his hands, every movement of his body.

“That’s how I know you were made for me,” he continued, his voice ragged with desire. “Your body fits with mine, like two pieces of a puzzle. You’re mine, baby, don’t ever forget that. You were made for me, and I’m never letting you go.”

His pace picked up, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, his breathing ragged with desire. “Don’t ever think you’re not perfect,” he whispered, his lips against your ear. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner, baby. And I’ll keep going until you say you believe me—”

His body was pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, as if he couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. You could feel every muscle of his body taut with tension, every line of him pressed against you.

“Don’t ever doubt how much I want you,” he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. “I’ll show you over and over again until you believe me, oh god, baby, I’m never going to stop needing you like this. Never.”

His thrusts were increasingly ragged, his rhythm faltering as his climax tried to sneak up on him, only for him to force it down so he could focus on you.

“Say you believe me, baby,” he gasped, his voice a pleading murmur against your skin. “Say you’ll never doubt what you mean to me, because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted— everything— and I can’t live without you, baby, I can’t—”

“I believe you,” you gasped, your own climax building within you, teetering on the edge of release. “I believe you, I do, Buck, I believe you—”

“Say you won’t ever doubt yourself again,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire. “Say you’ll believe me when I tell you how perfect you are, because you are perfect, baby, and I will fuck you like this every day if that’s what it takes to make you believe it—”

“I won’t,” you gasped, your words punctuated by a gasp as your eyes squeezed shut from the stimulation. “I won’t doubt myself, I promise, but please, Buck, I need–”

“I know what you need, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to give it to you. Over and over and over again, until you’re so full of me, and so sated that you’ll never doubt us again.”

His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate, his body shaking with the effort of holding back his own climax, as he sought to bring you to the edge, to push you over and bring you to the release you needed.

“Come for me, baby,” he pleaded, his voice ragged with desire. "I need to feel you come apart beneath me, I need it, baby, come on—”

You cried out at his words, your body shuddering with pleasure at the combination of his touch and his words, the pleasure within you cresting and crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. Your body arched against him, your hands clinging to him as if your life depended on it, your breaths coming out in gasps.

Buck groaned as he felt you come apart beneath him, the feeling of you clenching around him drawing a guttural moan from him. “Oh god, baby,” he gasped, his voice hoarse with pleasure. “That’s it, oh god, baby, I’m right there, I’m right there—”

His pace quickly picked up, his thrusts ragged and desperate, his body tense with the need to join you. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he gasped, his voice thick with need. “Gonna make you mine, gonna make sure you know you’re mine forever—”

His thrusts became erratic, his breath coming out in gasps as he rode the edge of his orgasm. “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna come inside you, okay?”

“Yes,” you gasped, you hands desperately clinging to him, “yes, please, I need it, I need you—”

With a final, ragged gasp, he came hard, his body shuddering as his orgasm coursed through his torso and down his legs, spilling his release into you, white and hot and possessive in a way his words would never be.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling, his breathing ragged. “God, baby,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea, actually,” you murmured, your own breathing still slightly ragged. You reached up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. “You’re damn convincing, Buckley.”

He chuckled at your comment, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him. "I meant every word, baby," he murmured, his lips drifting up the column of your neck to your ear. "You're perfect for me, and I'll keep proving it to you until you believe it yourself.”

You hummed contentedly at his words, your body relaxing against him, boneless and sated. You could feel the warm, sticky aftermath of his release between your legs, and you tightened your thighs together involuntarily at the sensation. “I think I believe you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing small circles along his back.

He chuckled again at your words, his hands roaming your body, tracing a lazy path along your curves. "You're damn right you believe me," he said, his voice still rough with emotion. "And if you ever forget it, I'll just have to remind you again. Over and over and over...”

He rolled the two of you over, pulling you close against his chest and wrapping you in his embrace. "But for now," he said, his voice softer now, "I just want to hold you. Just feel you in my arms, baby.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing a slow, soothing circle on your back. "I love you, you know that?" he murmured, his voice gentle and full of tenderness. "I love you more than anything in this world, and I'm never letting you go.”

You smiled at his words, snuggling closer against his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his skin. "I love you too, Buck," you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "More than anything.”

[velvetvexations]

I got this comment on my antigonism explainer and I asked for permission to address in it's own post because I think it's good feedback:

I appreciate your support of transmasc and transnull people more than you can ever know. I, however, think coming up with a phrase that distincts “transmasc friendly transfems” is deeply divisive- and will further the divide and discourse between transfems and transmascs We don’t need a speciality phrase to denote people who are friendly towards us since those that are AGAINST us are the loud minority- the majority of real world trans people (transfems especially) are in unity with transmascs I think that this may just worsen the divides that are already starting to exist, and will further perpetuate discourse where it isn’t needed. Transfems can just say they support transmascs and transNB people, you guys don’t have to come up with a special title. I mean this all with the upmost love and sincerity. Transfems who support transmascs are the majority of transfems, yes there is an issue with TIRFism online But that is not the majority of transfems on the internet- and especially in real life. We should be focusing on greater unity and talking about what makes us similar- not dividing ourselves even more into subcategories to be policed or pointed to. From a transnull who is just as deep in this discourse

I'm thankful for your perspective and that you've given thought to the issue, and wanted to share your thoughts in a way that I feel is really sweet, which as someone with NPD I appreciate a lot. This is something that's been expressed to me about the idea previously.

I disagree, though. Are transfems who support transmascs and other non-transfems the majority? Yes, absolutely! But when the vocal minority is as loud as it is, they need to be loudly shutdown. That kinna thing takes megaphones. They're going to go away on their own and I want there to be a way to take an active stance that throws oneself out there as someone opposed to that shit.

Already it's just taken as a given that transfems are all TRFs.* If we don't go further, we're letting the vocal nature of the minority take up more and more space and become more and more accepted. Because like, they are super aggressive about it. These things get spread around on posts with thousands of notes every day. TRFs do nothing but bitch about non-transfem trans, intersex, and GNC people, and in doing so make spaces an increasingly less safe place for them.

And the signaling is a really important issue too. A lot of the responses to antigonism from transmascs in particular have been saying that it makes them feel safer. I've gotten messages from people who feel really bad about the paranoia trans radical feminism has caused them to feel around transfems they don't know, and that sucks! I'm so not interested in dismissing that as people who need to be less online or something, especially since I've heard a lot of stories of IRL spaces being hostile to any expression of masculinity as well. These are people who are, at best, facing a massive bullying issue, and at worst being driven out of the trans community entirely. It's cruel and I'm not going to shame them for having this expectation hammered into them, especially because I've also constantly been let down over and over and over when I see a post about transmisogyny or the transfem experience that I really like, only to be gravely disappointed when I see they're a TRF. It constantly happens. It sucks. It sucks so unbelievably much.

Hell, a lot of TRFs are self-identified TMEs, and in fact, most of them are! Every time they do one of their polls trying to prove some dumbass point, it's overwhelmingly "TMEs" who respond. It's like, a relatively small number of transfems kicking around a little cult of sycophants, many of whom are weird as fuck in their own ways but also many who are just trying to be good allies. They should also be signaled to that, hey, when I tell them they actually didn't need to drop a headcanon of a character that gave them joy because a transfem said so, I'm not the freak anomaly I get painted as. Like, I've responded to things asking if something so not an issue was transmisogynistic, or what the problem with TMA/TME was, only to immediately have multiple TRFs zoom into the replies like "don't listen to velvetvexations, she alone has those opinions because she hates all other transfems."

And what about transfems who also need to have it made clear TRFs aren't normal, too? Who need to be gently caught before they get indoctrinated into this shit?

When you see a trans woman saying she thinks it's bad to call non-binary people slurs, identifying as an antigonist gives the messages she's not a random confused baby bird brainwashed by Big Transmisogyny to hate her sisters. She is just one of many who feel that way.

And like, is making it a "faction" like that divisive? I don't think so because holy hell, this discourse is already divisive and toxic as fuck. The intense vitriol that gets thrown at one side from another is already radioactive. What's going to make things worse than it is now? TRFs will have to put up with seeing that other transfems are enthusiastic about disagreeing with them? Those other transfems will feel an us vs. them mentality regarding radical feminists?

A friend of mine put it really well last night:

it isn’t enough to just be ‘normal’ about transmascs and intersex people, actually you do need to be actively working against the now baked in harmful ideologies that have gained traction

I don't want to be normal about these things, I want to be actively anti-transandrophobic, actively anti-intersexist, etc. in a way that sends a clear message to everyone. Being normal about these issues is only normal until it isn't. And even if it forever remained a minority with no threat of growing larger than it is today, TRFs should still have the door slammed in their face until they learn to play nice. If transfems who are Normal really are "normal", then make TRFs feel like pariahs rather than having the unmitigated gall to declare that transmascs invented the transmisogynistic concept of transandrophobia because "2024 is the year transfems united under the banner of transfeminism."

Should we let them have that, and just say oh, well, it's obviously intuitive we're the normal ones and they're the weirdos, we can just quietly continue to consider ourselves the default model of transfem while radical feminism continues to cause more and more division entirely on it's own?

*not that they use that language

anyone may reblog this!

[bullet-prooflove]

Stay Tonight: Dwight Manfredi x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @skellyagogo @sca3a @kenbechillin @mandy426

Companion piece to:

Dior - Dwight wakes up to the scent of Dior and lipstick on his chest.

Gunpowder & Roses - Dwight's enemies make a mistake when they come after you.

Hell of A Message - You send a message to your ex Bill.

The Cowboy At Your Door - Your ex Bill shows up in response to your message.

You’re tired.

Dwight can see that the moment you open the door to him. Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and there’s a weariness in you that he’s never seen before. He realises that’s because you hide this part of yourself, the human side, the vulnerable side. He wants you to know you don’t have to do that with him, that he wants every part of you, not just the persona you put on for everybody else.

“You gonna let me take care of you tonight?” He asks you as he leans in the doorway, the black leather overnight bag clasped in his hand.

“I’m too tired to fuck.” You tell him and he smiles because he finds your forthrightness very refreshing.

“Well I’d like to think I’m a good cuddler.” He tells you and it’s your turn to smile because it’s been a long time since you’ve gone to bed with a man that hasn’t wanted something from you.

He takes his time undressing you, his fingers undoing the each of the buttons of the dress shirt you’re wearing as his gaze stays fixed on yours. You’re beautiful even with the bruising. A masterpiece draped in cotton and ink. This thing between the two of you, it may have started as a very physical attraction but it’s become more far more than that over the past few weeks.  The fabric flutters from your shoulders, falling to the floor before Dwight helps you to remove your bra and panties. He picks up the blue and white striped pyjama set you’ve already laid out across the bed, helping you into the elasticated shorts before drawing the shirt up your shoulders and fastening each of the buttons.

“Thank you.” You say softly as his thumb ghosts along your jaw and he realises it’s been a long time since someone has looked after you.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He whispers, his mouth capturing yours in a tender kiss. “This is what you do when you care about someone.”

He gets you settled into bed before he begins to unpack his own overnight bag, setting the items down onto dressing table and chair. He likes the look of his things intermingled with yours, the blend of masculinity and femininity, he wonders if this is what it could look like in the future if you continue down this road.

“Dwight.” You say with a hint of amusement as he pulls out his clothing. “Did you bring pyjamas?”

“I did.” He says as he turns to face you, holding up the black silk bottoms. “I thought I’d bring the  appropriate attire considering we’re having our first sleepover.”

The two of you have fucked before but he never wakes up with you, you always leave before the sun rises. Him being here tonight, it changes things, it shows that he’s invested, the fact you’re letting him stay, it shows that you are too.

“I hope you don’t snore.” He says as he climbs into bed alongside of you. His arm wraps around your waist, gathering you up close. Your legs tangle with his as he tucks you in against his chest.

“I wouldn’t know.” You tell him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re the first man to sleep over since I bought the place.”

“That seems fitting considering you were my first.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours.

His fingertips trace over your features and he can feel your body starting to relax against him as your eyes flutter closed. You’re breathing starts to even out and you nuzzle in a little closer, your palm coming to rest on the space where his heart resides in his chest.

People think that sex is the most intimate thing you can do with a person but Dwight thinks it’s this. Putting your faith in someone else when you’re at your most exposed, it’s not something people in your line of work do. He thinks it speaks volumes about the direction your relationship is heading.

“Good night baby.” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your temple. “I hope you have the sweetest damn dreams.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[average-mako-enjoyer]

I need your Kaidan opinions for the fave character game. Pwease. 😻

From the character ask game.

Oh God, I will have to change my pants by the time I'm done.

Favorite thing about them

Everything??? He's such a complex dude, and all of his complexity is shown so subtly in a way that also reflects him as a character. I love it.

But most of all, his emotional maturity, his intelligence, his self-esteem, and honestly, how incredibly badass he is.

He doesn't use Shepard as a therapist, as a fixer for his problems, as a pillar of strength to lean on. Instead, he always comes into this relationship (platonic or romantic) as an equal, and it's so refreshing to see.

Every other squadmate needs something from Shepard, and with Kaidan it's the other way around. It's Shepard who needs Kaidan, a person who will remind them that what military propaganda usually pushes as "the hardest choices a soldier can make" are actually the laziest choices.

Kaidan knows that killing is easy. Destroying is easy. But showing restraint, showing compassion, trusting someone, doing the right thing, that's hard.

Also, Kaidan is literally the only squadmate who consistently tells Shepard that they can step aside, that they don't have to do everything alone, that they have their team for a reason, and oh god, thank you Kaidan, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Least favorite thing about them

My god, he's stubborn.

And yes, Shepard needs someone like that in their close circle, but oh Kaidan, my man, my dude, my wonderful human being, you have to learn to relax, to let things go sometimes.

I think the main thing about him is that he's actually so passionate, he feels deeply, and friendship and love are so important to him, but he has trust issues, and he has standards, and he's very intelligent, and all of that runs over this deep well of emotions that he carries around.

He wants to love with abandon, but he can't. He wants to do the right thing all the time, but it's impossible. He has to learn how to compromise, how to live in the gray area.

Honestly, there are so many parallels between his and you-know-who's ark, no wonder all his fans feel so strongly about Kaidan.

Favorite line

So, so many.

"I think we're gonna need a bigger boot, Commander."

"I could shoot someone if it would make you feel better."

"Mike Hazer? Hazer the Laser? Almost didn't recognize you. ... You owe me money."

"Looking back, I have a few regrets, but not many. That's pretty damn amazing, right? Messed up kid that I was, never would have dreamed of the life I've had."

"You'll never find out."

I love his sarcastic ass. And I love all the glimpses into that deep well that is his heart. He's so good.

brOTP

Joker! Oh my God, that first dialog between them is fucking amazing. I feel like Joker is one of Kaidan's main sources of gossip (something Kaidan is interested in both professionally and recreationally), and Joker finds Kaidan's dry wit incredibly funny. They get along just fine because they enjoy teasing each other for sport, but other people probably misinterpret this as dislike. Same with him and Ash.

Also, Tali! Two nerds just talking about tech, weapon mods, all that good stuff. And he's obviously very sweet and protective of her. I really have to read about those two.

If we're talking about ME2 squadmates, his choice would obviously be Samara. I think he would've been fascinated by her story, her abilities, her lifestyle and would've hung out with her a lot. They're just very similar people in my mind, and for Kaidan, it would have been an excellent insight into the extremes of the morality he tends to lean towards.

In ME3, he probably hangs out a lot with James and Steve because he likes Steve and he can tolerate James most of the time. XD I think Kaidan and Steve have a lot in common. There's this careful quietness about them. They're both observers, they're both cautious and reserved. And I think Kaidan can see that there's kindness at the core of Steve's soul, and that's important to him.

And finally, mShenko, because whether they end up as a couple or not, they're friends first and foremost. Their romance is purely friends to lovers. Not mentor/mentee+friends to lovers, but friends to lovers. They're open and honest with each other, they care about each other deeply, they know how to tease each other without hurting anyone's feelings. They're equals.

OTP

mShenko. Oh god, it's so good. The slow burn, the maturity of it, how they don't hide behind unnecessary labels and the promises that would probably never be fulfilled. They're just there for each other despite everything, despite their time running out, and it's perfect.

Bonus points for being so obviously horny for each other.

nOTP

Kaidan/Ashley. I just think they work a lot better as friends.

Random headcanon

Kaidan doesn't really like to talk about his childhood, not because it was bad, but because he had a "rich kid's childhood", and things that were common for him throughout his life are actually quite unique and only come when you have a lot of money.

How can you casually mention your annual vacation aboard your family yacht in the company of an Earthborn orphan, a turian from Palaven, and a quarian who spent most of her life on a starship?

Also, both mShep and Kaidan enjoy being knocked around a little from time to time. So they do sparring sessions together, and this shit is _intense_.

Unpopular opinion

He does casual hookups while on shore leave like any other normal Marine. He finds a girl or a guy, fucks nasty, blows off steam, and returns to his duties.

Song i associate with them

Garbage - Control

Favorite picture of them

This one.

Thank you for this ask! I always love to talk about my man Kaidan.

[suzukiblu]

Day five of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. ( everyone's having fun! so much sugary, fluffy, definitely-not-emotionally-fraught fun!! 🙃 ) prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“That’s not–I told you that you didn’t have to do anything like that,” he says stiffly. “That that’s not a–condition of any of this.” 

“I–yeah, I know,” Kon says, frowning a little deeper and looking–uncertain, now. Mostly just around the eyes, Tim can’t help noticing. Mostly just around where opaque sunglasses wouldn’t show any tells. “You said. I just–I thought–” 

“It’s just–not something you have to do,” Tim says, because Kon doesn’t look like he knows how to find the end of whatever sentence he’s trying to say and he needs to say something, he knows. He just–he thought they’d had this conversation, and that Kon had laughed at him because he’d thought he was being stupid to feel like he had to say it, not . . . 

Is that why Kon had laughed, or did he laugh because he thought Tim was lying to him about something he didn’t think he needed lied to about, or . . . ? 

“I know,” Kon says, biting his lip for a moment. “Like–I wanna, like . . . do this. Like, I don’t think you’re, you know–trying to be an asshole about it or anything.” 

Tim hears “this”, and wonders if Kon means he wants to act like the way he was just acting, or if Kon just means he wants to date him, and thinks this has to be part of that. It’s not . . . clear, maybe. He’s not even sure how to ask Kon that, or if Kon would even understand the question if he did. 

He’s pretty damn sure that “trying to be an asshole” is a translation of something way worse, though. 

“I don’t know what that means,” he says, mostly to buy himself time to figure out what he should be saying. “You want to do–what, exactly?” 

“Whatever you want,” Kon says, and Tim feels nauseous. 

“No you don’t,” he says, inane and useless. 

“I do,” Kon says, shifting his posture into something too-deliberate and too-practiced and just not normal to see on another teenager, and Tim has a flashed moment of intense awareness of just how not-prepared for whatever’s about to come out of Kon’s mouth that he actually–“You can just–tell me what to do, if I’m doing it wrong. Or just do whatever you want. I’ll like it. Promise.” 

There is literally no possible way that Kon could know that, part of Tim thinks, but the rest of him is thinking okay so who EXACTLY gave Kon the impression that he should be saying things like this to someone he barely knows, and how do I most effectively destroy their credit and job prospects and also every single thing they’ve ever loved?

And on top of that, who the hell taught Kon that saying things like that isn’t, like–way too much way too fast, if nothing else? Because again, he has some lives to maybe destroy a little. Like–just a bit. 

Because it’s definitely, definitely something Kon got taught. It’s just–it’s way too obvious, that all this is something he got taught. 

“Why do you think I’d do that?” Tim asks, and Kon–hesitates, a little, a flash of embarrassed self-consciousness crossing the backs of his eyes again. 

“I–it’s just–” Kon attempts, half-fumbling whatever he’s trying to say, and then more or less babbles out an awkward, stuttered explanation of: “I mean technically this is already, like, our fourth date, counting the coffee place and all, and I just–like, you're–you said you didn't wanna do all this stuff for me just ‘cuz I saved your life. I thought that meant . . . I thought you meant . . .” 

He trails off, looking a little helpless and a lot more embarrassed, and Tim feels like an asshole and an idiot and ten steps closer to going supervillain and burning down the world. Or the reality. Or the multiverse.

Just–anywhere that made Kon have to be embarrassed about this. 

“That I only wanted to sleep with you?” he asks, trying not to let his voice get too tight. “I told you, that’s not–” 

“Ithoughtyoumeantyoulikedme,” Kon blurts in a rush, jerking his head to the side to look away and also looking just shy of humiliated.

[blacklegsanjiii]

•°♤°• Taking a break from ASL x Sanji. Now it's time for Zosan 😀. In this AU, set in the Canon, what would happen if Zoro swords has spirits? I know that you told me you read Kishi Kaisei by coffeeblues but I wanted YOUR opinion and hcs on this.

Okay, I've sat on this SINCE APRIL trying to figure out what I wanted to do and just banging my head into the desk at work because imagine Sanji meeting Zoro and taking care of Wado on the way to Cocoyashi with extreme love and care for this fucking mossheaded dumbass he met like two hours ago. He feels connected to the sword in some weird way and every once in a while, he feels like someone is watching him when no one, not even Luffy, is. Sometimes he'll catch something in the corner of his eye usually if he turns to look. Sure, Zoro talks to the sword, but he's kind of weird, nothing new, the whole crew is. Then in Loguetown Zoro gets Kitetsu and Yubashiri, talking them too when he cleans and cares for them. It feels like there's more people watching the cook after that and Sanji feels like he's going insane.

Until after Thriller Bark when he brings Zoro back to the crew with a new sword, Yubashiri's hilt gone, and just Zoro's blood soaking both of them. After he cleans himself up and takes care of feeding people he sits alone and cleans the swords and there's suddenly a woman in front of him as he works on Wado. She's not fully there and looking at Sanji curiously and Sanji stumbles out a surprised greeting and apologizes because he's covered in oil on his hands but he can get her something to eat but she smiles and puts a hand on his cheek before disappearing. Sanji has to sit there for a minute trying to figure out what the fuck that was before finishing with Wado and working on Kitetsu he sternly tells to settle the fuck down, Zoro's alive, because the energy coming off the sword is not fun for the cook. Sanji's not dumb, he's been a pirate long enough to know swords can carry carry the souls of the past far into the future, he served Mihawk all the time. If there's not something to make his blades cursed or whatever then Sanji is fucking crazy. Kitetsu, despite being a little shit, does respect Sanji enough to not hurt him when he cleans it. Sanji is always so nice, gentle and powerful which shocks Kitetsu and Shusui but Wado likes Sanji and their master respects him, a good match.

Zoro is confused when he comes to because his swords are singing Sanji, the idiot cook, their praises for caring for them in his absence. Wado especially enjoyed their time together outside of sparring which Kitetsu agrees with and Shusui says the man was nice, knew how to clean a sword well and holds them well. Zoro doesn't believe a word they say until like a year into his stay on Kuriagana when Mihawk points out his swords seem...lacking. As if their longing for something. Perona asks if it's the cook Zoro constantly talks about and Zoro looks at his swords and feels them grinning like fucking assholes at him. Mihawk simply hums something to himself about telling Zeff, ignoring the questioning from Perona and Zoro who is also having a lot of feelings.

When the crew comes back together and Zoro and Sanji finally get to spar again Zoro can feel his swords basically sing with how pleased they are to see the cook. He's not jealous just confused and Sanji keeps glancing at his swords too so maybe it's a possibility that his swords like the cook, they're dumb for it. He's annoying and prissy, sure he matches Zoro still, but only just barely! Zoro will surpass him soon and it'll be all over for the cook. It's still weird the cook is looking at them though because it's not like he can see or hear them like Zoro can. That'd be ridiculous, preposterous, unheard of. Zoro doesn't fucking believe it when they whine when they get separated again after Dressrosa. Even Law looks amused.

"Are they misbehaving?" Law asks with a grin like the cleaver Sanji uses to butcher seakings.

"Just keep saying dumb shit." Zoro mutters.

"Do they miss Blackleg-ya? Considering your history it would make sense." Law asks.

"How would you know?" Zoro growls.

"It's not exactly easy to dismiss how often you two spend together, swords are an extension of their master's after all." Law shrugs as he adjusts Kikoku. Zoro grumbles to himself as Wado whispers to him that Zoro misses him too and he should have heard how worried the cook has been for him. Zoro tells them to shut the fuck up in his head making them laugh. He listens to them mourn again when he finds out Sanji left the crew on Zou. When Luffy says he's going to bring the cook back Zoro feels a tension leave he didn't know he was carrying. On Wano though the cook keeps avoiding him or they're too busy to talk or Zoro's training with Enma after trading Shusui for it, he thanked Shusui of course but Enma is a demon in a sword and Shusui belongs in Wano, in their home. Then Zoro promises to kill Sanji and Wado is screaming that they don't want to, that he can't make them! Enma says they'll do it willingly and their voice is filled with glee as Kitetsu screams in fury and anguish.

It's not until after the raid, after the parties have calmed down and Zoro and his swords are calmed down from having to possibly kill the cook and crawling out of hell, still he doesn't ask Sanji about it. He and the cook are sitting together and Hiyori is still trying to fret over Zoro and Wado and Kitetsu aren't exactly pleased with the woman. Sanji keeps stealing glances at them and Zoro is growing agitated with the looks from the cook and the voices of the swords calling for Sanji instead of the princess. Once she leaves Sanji doesn't stop the glances and Zoro is growing more and more annoyed.

"Spit it out, Cook." Zoro growls at him.

"Why do I hear them?" Sanji asks suddenly, slightly panicked.

"Why did you ask me to kill you?" Zoro asks back. "None of us are happy with you, I don't know why they want you or why you can hear them!" Sanji is staring at him with a crazed look that knocks some knots loose that have been tied in Zoro's gut since Zou. Sanji steps forward and Wado is basically screaming for the cook to hold her and Zoro gives a jerky nod to the cook who does take the most precious sword from him and holds it. Sanji sighs and apologizes to them all for what happened it's just between his birth family and his past he wasn't entirely sure he would come out of the fight like he was before and he needed the reassurance that Zoro would do what was needed. Kitetsu and Enma seem sorrowful they don't get to take the cook down and Sanji mutters they sound just like Zoro who punches him in the shoulder lightly and grumbles as Wado tells Sanji how worried they were for him and how much they care for him and yeah. Sanji is bright red.

Zoro moves to grab Wado but Sanji pulls the sword away and grabs Zoro's robes and pulls him up just barely to kiss him.

"At least Wado tells me how you feel." Sanji mumbles looking away as Zoro blushes.

"Traitor." Zoro grumbles as he pulls Sanji down on top of him and kisses him again.

[raichoose]

Platonic Starters!

Feel free to revise as necessary to fit your muse's speech, change pronouns, etc.

"Aren't you bored? Let's go to the [arcade/farmer's market/movies/mall/etc.] or something."

"I'm bored."

"Are you ready for game night?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Aw man, I forgot it was your birthday! Oh no! - Ha, kidding. Here's your present."

"All I'm saying is, I knew as soon as I looked at you that you and I were going to be friends."

"I think we just became best friends."

"Come on, man, I thought we were friends."

"I need you to join my [baseball team/bowling league/etc]. Don't ask. It's what friends do."

"That's what friends are for."

"That's what friends do."

"Come on, bestie, what's the worst that could happen?"

"You're my friend, and I care about you. So, no, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."

"Bro. Bestie. Friend. Buddy. Pal. Broski. Look at me. Come ooon, I know you're not mad - "

"Are you mad at me?"

"I haven't seen you in ages! How are you?"

"If I'm not the best man/maid of honor at your wedding, I'll die."

"I'm glad we became friends."

"Come over and play video games with me."

"Horror movie marathon, buddy. Let's go."

"I'm worried about you. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Everything's going to be fine. You got me, right?"

"You're more family to me than my actual family."

"How are you feeling?"

"Do you need help with that?"

"Can I get a ride to the [airport/train station/etc]?"

"You need to live a little. Come on, let's go on an adventure."

"Want to go downtown and see if there's anything going on?"

"That [Thai/Japanese/Italian/Mexican/seafood/comfort food/etc.] place you were talking about finally opened! Let's go!"

"Want to go to the farmer's market with me?"

"If I die of boredom, it's your fault."

"I got an extra ticket to the [KISS/Gorillaz/Elton John/etc.] concert because I won a radio contest. Wanna come with?"

"Let's go to the [baseball/soccor/football/etc.] game."

"Karaoke night, let's go!"

"I'm going to every thrift store I can find today, and you're coming with me."

"So, what have you been up to?"

"What's new?"

"Tell me everything you've been up to!"

"I can't wait to meet in person!"

"Can we stop at the pet store?"

"I heard the house on the end of the street is haunted. You're breaking in with me tonight, okay?"

"If I ever don't say yes to hanging out, assume I'm dead."

"Are you busy? I need someone to talk to."

"Can you come over?"

"Want to come over?"

"I need help. And you're the first person I thought of, because you always help me."

"Oh, you know you love my jokes."

"I'm the mom friend. You always say that. Why are you surprised I'm dragging you to urgent care?"

"Can you believe we've been friends since [insert school grade here]?"

"I wish you were my roommate in college. Would've made my first year a lot better."

"I have a running list of horrible typos you've made."

"Expect me to remind you of this moment for the rest of your life."

"What classes are you taking next year?"

"Let's compare course schedules. I want to see if we have any classes together."

"Dream team! You and me! Let's go!"

"If you prank me on April Fool's Day, I will stop being friends with you! ... Not really. But I'll be mad about it."

"Let's grab [breakfast/brunch/lunch/dinner/etc.] today."

"Nobody hurts you and gets away with it."

"Who did this to you?"

"You're my best friend."

"You're my best friend! If anyone messes with you, I'm going to intervene."

"Oh my gosh! [Name]! How are you?"

"Just like old times, huh, [Name]?"

"I need you to taste test this for me."

"This is the last time I let you take me on a hike."

"I'll be in your neck of the woods this weekend. Are you free?"

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"I don't have any plans this weekend. Do you want to do something?"

"I wanted to check in and see how you were doing."

"The carnival's in town! We have to go!"

"Our friendship means a lot to me."

"I miss you. I don't know anyone in this [new school/new city/etc]."

"If you ever leave [place of employment], I'll die. I can't work here without someone else who gets how much it sucks here."

"We're friends, [Name]. That means we stand by each other."

"We're friends, [Name]. Don't keep secrets from me."

"Thank you for being my friend."

"Thank you for being my friend. I love you, [Name]!"