#friendaversary

[eldritchdemonfox]

HAPPY FRIENDAVERSARY @mercury-lurks!!!

I can’t believe we’ve only been friends for one year. It really feels like I’ve known you for years. You’re one of the greatest people I have ever met, and I’m so glad we get to be friends!

[miinsang]

ateez friendships | woosan for @sanchelinz

[bethanyactually]

@counterspelling like our sixth friendaversary, I once again remembered LATE but am reblogging it on the same day I did that year, so it's kind of an anniversary? 😂 anyway....*TEN YEARS*

HAPPY TENTH FRIENDAVERSARY LEXI!!! I'm just gonna assume Fantasy High Junior Year is actually a gift to us. :D

I am following you based solely on your comment about Jack being in Unending. YOU ARE SO RIGHT. HE WAS THOR'S FAVORITE HUMAN. THERE IS NOOOOOO WAY THOR WOULDN'T HAVE REQUESTED HIS PRESENCE. If RDA couldn't do that episode, they should have done a different story. PERIOD.

RIGHT?? HE WAS THE FIRST HUMAN THE ASGARD NAMED A SHIP AFTER. THEY ALL LOVED JACK. I MEAN, COME ON. And didn’t they know they had him for a certain number of episodes, and then chose not to have him in this one? Uuuuuuuugh, I have unending rage about Unending, basically.

[doctorodyssey]

i cannot believe hima and i have known each other for 9 years like that is literally so long

[starfleetwitch]

Happy year since I said 'fuck it' and met a stranger off the internet (@akaanonymouth ) to see my first drag show.

Once you get over the fear of being kidnapped in a strange city, you're only ever a low alcohol tolerance away from making friends by bonding over someone's bomb ass laugh in the audience.

[firstelevens]

hi zainab!!

taylor swift prompt #15 + sambucky? (bc lord knows i've thought about writing a you belong with me inspired sambucky fic too many times)

15. a smile that could light up this whole town

Reading the room is one of Sam’s greatest skills as a teacher. It’s turned around any number of bad days, resolved countless conflicts, and prevented dozens of failed tests or quizzes.

It’s instinctive enough that when he dismisses his Honors American Literature class right as the bell rings, he’s not remotely surprised when the best student in his class joins the cluster of students around his desk, asking about test corrections and extra credit.

Once he’s sent the rest of them off with the answers they’re looking for, Sam turns to Cindy Moon, who’s fidgeting with the cuffs of her sweater and won’t quite look at him.

“Mr. Wilson, do you think you could write me a pass to stay here during study hall?” she asks, her voice shaking a little. “I know we don’t have anything in the works for philanthropy club, but maybe I could do some planning? Or some research, or something?”

Part of Sam wants to say no, because he had very specific plans for his end-of-the-school-day planning period, and having a student in the room will mean that he has to be in vigilant teacher mode for the next hour and a half instead.

The other part of Sam has not missed the fact that Cindy used to constantly be surrounded by a group of her fellow cheerleaders and an ever-present boyfriend—a senior from the football team, Sam thinks, but not one he’s ever taught—and now she’s always on her own, sitting at the opposite end of the classroom to the group she was inseparable from just two weeks ago.

It has to be worse today of all days: between singing candy grams and carnation deliveries and heart shaped helium balloons everywhere, Valentine’s Day has hit Excelsior Academy hard. He can’t blame her for wanting to escape.

Sam is already reaching for the stack of blank passes before he speaks. “I could use some help organizing the classroom library, if you’re up for it? I had freshmen searching for books to write their reviews on, and they basically destroyed it.”

Cindy agrees, her voice still tremulous, and runs the pass down the hall to Rhodey in the physics lab. She comes back in as Sam is erasing the board, slinging her backpack onto a desk before moving towards the bookshelves that line the back wall of the classroom. 

Sam’s class library is his pride and joy, nearly two hundred books that he painstakingly chose and catalogued over the years. The freshmen were enthusiastic in searching for books, but less so in putting them back. Sam had taught them the last period of the day yesterday, and there had been an English department meeting—useless, but then most meetings were, under John Walker’s tenure as department head—so he only had time to throw them onto the shelf and rush over to the other side of the school.

Clearly, Cindy is aware of this on some level, because when he looks back at her, she’s got the first shelf’s worth of books separated across five different desks, one for each genre. He’s about to thank her for taking this so seriously when there’s a knock on the doorframe.

Standing just outside the classroom is Bucky, a handful of students peering around him.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Barnes?” asks Sam, capping his dry erase marker and waving the group into the room.

“They finally got someone in to fix the leak in the AC vent,” says Bucky, “but it means the room is unusable for the rest of the day. Can the yearbook kids and I camp out in here?”

“Of course,” says Sam. He turns to the kids. “I recommend the desks by the bulletin board, if you need to plug in laptops.”

Peter and Ned and Kamala head over to the desks nearest the outlets. MJ and Miles come in carrying a large posterboard, and behind them, America is carrying a stack of shoeboxes.

“Is it okay if we push some desks together?” asks Miles. “We’ll put them back before we leave.”

His question is underscored by the sound of both girls shifting desks and chairs behind him to make a larger work surface, and Miles winces. Sam laughs a little and tells him that it’s fine, and the three of them open up the boxes and start placing paper cutouts on the poster board.

“Testing layouts,” says America, when she sees him looking. “Sometimes it helps to do it physically instead of onscreen.”

“Mr. Barnes suggested it,” explains Miles, just in time for Bucky to reappear in the doorway.

“I’m only taking credit if it works,” Bucky says, turning sideways so he can get through the door with the two overstuffed tote bags over one shoulder and a backpack over the other.

“You see that?’ Sam asks, crossing the classroom to take one of the bags. “You haven’t even started and he’s already abandoning ship. Some captain, huh?”

“I’m a navigator at best,” says Bucky. “MJ’s captain; she’s the one at the top of the masthead.”

Across the room, Peter grins at MJ and gives her a little salute. Sam catches a smile crossing her face before she bites it back.

“Mr. Barnes is a pretty good navigator, though. He brought us cookies today.”

“Oh, shit,” Bucky says, and the kids seem unfazed the mild expletive. “Where’d I put the cookies?”

Sam looks into the bag that he’s holding and pulls out two boxes of pink frosted sugar cookies, complete with sprinkles and little candy hearts pressed into each one.

“Valentine’s themed and everything,” he says, grinning at Bucky. “Mr. Barnes, who knew you felt so strongly about the holiday?”

“He doesn’t,” says Ned. “Or, well, he does, but the other way.”

“Oh?’ asks Sam, as Bucky sets the box of cookies on an empty desk and sets a box of tissues beside them, his back to Sam. “And what way is that?”

“He said it was a consumerist holiday that doesn’t have anything to do with the history of all the different Saints Valentine. And then he taught us about Captain Cook attempting to kidnap people and getting killed for it.” Kamala finally looks up from her laptop. “That part was really interesting, actually.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says drily, opening the second box of cookies. “And I don’t want to see you all making a mess of Mr. Wilson’s room with these cookies, okay? We’re guests here and we’re going to clean up after ourselves.”

The yearbook kids murmur in assent. Sam glances over at Cindy, who’s still quietly sorting the bookshelves. He’s about to tell her to join them when Bucky beats him to it.

“Cindy, you’re welcome to have some, too,” he says. “And if you want any help organizing, you can absolutely conscript Ned and Peter and Kamala, because Michelle didn’t even give them an assignment for today, so I know they’re not actually working on anything for the yearbook right now.”

She hesitates for a moment, then sets down the stack of books and walks to Sam’s desk to use the hand sanitizer. “I like those flowers, Mr. Wilson,” she says, gesturing to the arrangement that had been waiting on Sam’s desk when he got in this morning. “They’re really pretty.”

Sam can’t help but smile when he looks over at the flowers. “Thanks, Cindy,” he says. Then, to the rest of the classroom: “I think Valentine’s Day is nice. We could all use a reminder to tell the people we care about that we’re thinking of them, even if that reminder is the day that a guy died for being kind to people.”

“There’s nothing wrong with celebrating Valentine’s Day,” says Bucky. “I just thought it was worth the reminder that our cultural traditions aren’t universal.”

“And also that colonizers getting taken out is a net gain, as far as the universe is concerned,” adds MJ, and Bucky’s lips twitch with a bitten-back smile.

“That, I can agree with,” says Sam. “So am I allowed to have one of these not-actually-for-Valentine’s-Day Valentine’s Day cookies?”

Before he can even step towards the box, Bucky is holding one out to him. Sam takes it with a smile and settles back in at his desk, scooting over to make room for Bucky to join him if he wants.

He does, after a moment, pulling over one of the chairs that MJ and America moved.

“Thanks for letting us hang out in here,” he says, pulling out a stack of tests to grade. “If you’d said no, I don’t know who would have let us in.”

“You mean you don’t know who would have let you get a bunch of teenagers hopped up on sugar in their classroom,” says Sam, holding out a red pen. He nods over to where the kids are now sitting on top of the desks, work abandoned in favor of comparing the messages on their conversation hearts. Cindy, he notes with some relief, has joined them.

Bucky takes the pen and waves his free hand. “Minor detail at best. And you got something out of it, too, didn’t you?”

Sam looks back down at the cookie in his hand and shrugs. “I mean, I’d have preferred homemade,” he says, trying not to grin, “but I guess this works.”

Laughing, Bucky elbows him gently and turns back to grading.

— —

That evening, when Sam’s doorbell rings, he answers it and leans against the doorway, blocking the entrance.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. “I thought Valentine’s Day was a consumerist holiday with no historical merit.”

“Peter and Michelle saw us together at that Italian place last weekend!” says Bucky. “I had to throw them off the scent!”

“Uh-huh,” says Sam, arms crossed and unmoving.

“Did you like the flowers, at least?”

Sam glances over at the vase that he brought home from school, now sitting on the mantelpiece. “Maybe.”

“I love you?”

“Is that a question now?”

Bucky huffs. “I brought you wine from that one tiny vineyard you love, and I have The Princess Bride and The Shop Around the Corner, and there’s no one I’d rather spend the day with, and I love you, Sammy. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

For a moment, Sam considers him. Then, he steps aside and waves Bucky in, shaking his head at the triumphant grin that spreads across his face.

“Fine, but only because I want to know what wine you picked,” he says, and immediately disproves it by leaving the bottle on the credenza and hauling Bucky in for a kiss.

[melissas173]

Happy 7 years!

Seven years ago today I responded to a post someone on this weird little app posted, she messaged me back and seven years later we still talk everyday!

What an interesting time it’s been - new jobs, promotions, overseas and local travel, a pandemic, several lockdowns, a lot of music, history and movies.

Alex is funny, smart and kind and I’m forever grateful she’s in my life.

Happy Friendaversary @niallandharrymakemestrong and here’s to 7 more!

Mel ❤️

[mrsgiovanna]

My amazing friend Bria,

January is the month we make 1 year of friendship :) [cause I don't remember which day exactly LOL]

Anyways!

I am thankful for having such a great friend like you 🥺🥺🥺❤❤❤

If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have met other mutuals like Cole, Lara, Claire, Nohr, Abella... I always loved reading your fanfics (even tho I read too fast aaa) and even if I don't read some, I'll always give you my support.

Everyone has days that makes them feel down, but there are always friends to cheer you up with some silly headcanon, a experience they would love to share to you or even share thousands of cats pics. Thank you for being my friend and having so much patience ♡♡♡

It means a lot to me 🥺🥺🥺❤❤❤

Love,

Poppy/Cinemaspoppycorn 🍿

One year of shenanigans and laughs and simping and ups and downs and brainstorming stands and and and and owaaah I'm happy to have you as a friend too, and I'm glad that we could all have those fun times and I hope there will be many more,

Have some silly gangstar husbands

[tiredsadpeach]

I don’t matter until I’m a danger to myself

[iria2w]

.

[damnedsoulsneedsleep]

❛ Since my shop has been doing well with all those expensive anonymous orders, i’ve been saving the rent money you gave me for a bigger place. ❜ Serafine annonces as she parks the car in front of a small house. She’d tricked Stefan @undertheinfluence into coming with her for a (fake) delivery just so she could show him her new acquisition. Their new home. ❛ You deserve your own space and privacy whilst still living with us. ❜ She says, smiling at him. ❛ And let’s be honest, the old place was starting to get crowded. Now, we’ll have plenty of space to host. There’s also a guest room. For Jules. So they can have a place to unwind from whatever is going on in that dreadful fancy manor. ❜

[hellsmayflower]

//Happy Friendaversary!!! 🎉🎉

{{ YAS!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 }}

[widowbitessting]

The Devil is What You Drink - A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Word Count: 2110

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

In retrospect, ringing one of your doms when you’re extremely tipsy and walking home alone at 1am, really isn't the best idea. 

But with the wine running through your system, it really doesn’t bother you. 

Natasha picks up after the first ring, voice heavy with sleep and it makes you grin broadly; almost jumping up and down on the spot with excitement. 

“Hi, Natty!” 

“...baby, hi.” She inhales deeply and you can picture her rubbing her eyes. “What time is it? Where are you?” 

“Oh, y’know me and MJ had that friendaversary didn’t we! Five whole years, Natty, can you believe it? How I haven’t killed her yet, I don’t know.” 

“Breathe, love.” 

“So I got home from class and MJ really wanted to go out for a drink and I was like, sure why not! So we went to that cute bar I took you one time - I got that cute flower in my drink, remember it, Natty?” 

“Yes, baby, I remember.” 

“So we went there and we wanted to be fancy again and got wine. Now I know, I know, wine is evil but it tastes so good so it can’t be that bad, eh? So we had like…two…maybe three bottles and just talked about all the stuff we’ve done together, cos’ like, five years is super long, isn’t it, Natty?”

“Yes, baby.”

“And then -” You boot a stray beer can with your foot and send it soaring into a nearby wall. It’s loud, especially in the quiet area you’re in and it immediately catches Natasha’s attention. 

“Baby…I haven’t heard MJ speak the entire time you’ve been on the phone to me…normally she pipes up…where is she, darling?” 

“Well she got picked up by Peter about fifteen minutes ago and the bar isn’t too far from home! So I thought I’d go on an adventure and - ” 

“Stop.” A deep, low voice, commands. 

The order comes so suddenly that it catches you off guard. You cease all words and movements as your inner submissive drops to her knees.  

“So you’re on your own?” Natasha asks. 

“...maybe…I just thought the fresh air would do me good..walk off the alcohol. Clever right?” 

“Y/N, you tell me right now if you are on your own walking through the dark. It’s 2am!”

After hearing your full name you can’t help but bite back a little with sarcasm.

“Well yeah, I - I have to get home somehow duh. I can’t afford a taxi and it’s only around the corner.” 

You hear Natasha rummaging around through the phone as you twirl a loose strand of hair around your finger. 

“Look around, tell me where you are.” 

You do as you’re told. 

“Hmmm…well I see black ‘cos it’s dark…”

“Y/N.”

“Again with the name, gah! Erm, I dunno, I took the shortcut and -”

“You have to the count of fucking five to get to the nearest streetlight, I swear to God.” 

“But it’s all the way over there!” 

“5.”

“I can make it there before you get to two!” 

You take off sprinting, giggling gleefully as you go, one hand pinning your cell to your ear as your other arm sticks out to keep your balance.

Only, it’s you. In heels. In the dark. 

You take the grand total of seven steps before you go crashing down, ankle bending at a near 90 degree angle as gravity takes you to the cement. You scrape your knees and your palm, squeaking upon impact.

“Detka, did you just fall?” 

“Mhm, running in heels is not the way to go. Ouch.” 

You’re lucky there’s no glass.

“Get up for me, can you do that? Are you okay?” When you reply, she continues, “now walk slower to the streetlight. And please don’t fall over any more twigs as you go.”

“That was one time!” 

“One time too many.” 

Limping and grumbling as you go, you manage to get out of the alleyway without any more injuries and cross over to the streetlight. 

“Natty, there’s gum on it. Gross.” 

“Don’t eat it. Don’t touch it.”

You drop your hand. 

“Fiiiine.”

“Where are you now?”

“I dunno, outside?” 

An exasperated sigh reaches your ears. 

“Tell me exactly what you see, Y/N. Be specific.” 

A car door slams shut through the phone as you glance around.

“I see trees…houses…oh the moon! Woah, pretty.”

“If you’ve somehow managed to get to the moon, Y/N, I will lose my shit.” 

“If I take a picture will you see it? It’s so pretty! Carol loves the moon.” 

“Baby, what else do you see?” Natasha gently reminds you. 

“Erm…oh! Oh, a restaurant! Can we go Natty? It looks nice!” 

“What’s it called babygirl, gimme a name.” 

Natasha’s car roars to life. 

“Why don’t you just stalk me, hmm? Be quicker.” You let out a giggle. 

“Because then I’d have to hang up, so no.” Natasha is silent for a second, waiting for your giggles to calm down, knowing her reply just fell on cotton filled ears. “Are you finished?” 

“Maaaaybe.”

“Now,” she warns, “I want you to listen to me because you only have one last chance, Y/N. Give me the name of that fucking restaurant before I spank your ass into next week.” 

“M-Mama’s…” You squint at the flag. “Oh! I think it’s Jamaican, I love Jamaican food!”

“Mhm, I know you do. Do me a favour? Have a look at the menu? Pick something you'd think we’d all like.” 

“Really? Even something like curried goat?” You scurry to the lit up window, eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright lights coming from inside. “‘Cos I had that once and I thought there was a fruit loop in there but it wasn’t - there’s a cat! Hi cat!” 

“NO!” Natasha practically deafens you. “Y/N, do not follow that cat!” 

“But he’s so fluffy! He’s got a big tail, hi baby!” 

“Y/N, it’ll have fleas, no! Do not touch it, stay where you are!”

“But Hedwig -” 

“Isn’t Hedwig from Harry Potter?” 

You stop walking, ashamed that those words even came from her mouth. 

“I let you fuck me with that mouth. Yes! It’s Hedwig! Harry Potter’s owl!” 

“Do you want to watch it when we’re home?” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Can we really?”

“Only if you choose something really yummy from that restaurant then, baby girl. C’mon, Harry Potter is on the line here.” 

“But -” 

“Say bye to Hedwig.”

“...bye Hedwig.” Your voice is tiny and it breaks Natasha’s heart. “Safe travels! Drink milk and eat tuna!” 

“God, you’re so fucking cute, baby.” Natasha mumbles. You, of course, miss it, far too busy waving the black cat off. “Now pick us something to eat, we’re so hungry.”

“You got it, boss!” 

“Good girl, baby. You’re doing so well for me. What do you see?” 

You peer close to the menu, bumping your nose against the glass. 

“Hmmm…” You don’t even hear her as the car rolls up behind you. “I dunno yet but I might get served right away, Natty, it’s empty inside. How lucky is that?” 

“So lucky baby, who’d have thought a Jamaican restaurant would stay open until 2 in the morning.” 

“I know right? But I’m not sure what to get! Maybe I should ask someone.” 

“Y/N -” 

You ignore her and go to the door, pulling it with such a force that you don’t expect it to not open. Your grip slips and you stumble back.

“Wha - hey. Daddy the door is stuck!” You go back and try to push it this time, coming to no avail. “My food! Excuse me? I can’t get in!” 

“Y/N, tone your voice down, darling.” 

“No, the food! I can see it!” You actually have tears forming in your eyes. “I want my dumplings! No! Daddy, I need you. Help me open this stupid door!” 

“Daddy’s here, baby.” 

When Natasha’s hand gently takes you by the wrist, you look at her with a pout, unphased that she’s even there. 

“Dumplings, daddy. They’re there, see!” 

She doesn't even look away from you. 

“Yes, baby, I do. But you’re shivering. Let’s get you into the car, hmm? Get all warm before you eat dumplings.” 

“...make sure you tell them they need to fix their door…that’s so bad for service…” 

You all but sag into the redhead as she carries your exhausted body to the car. 

“You’re getting sleepy now, huh?”

“Mmm, so sleepy.” 

Natasha takes her sweatshirt off and before you can even protest, shoves it over your head, enveloping you in her scent. If you hadn’t been so tipsy, you might have clocked her sweatpant and sports bra combo sooner. Perhaps even have drooled. 

You’ve been in the car for five minutes when you finally realise. 

“Woah,” You can’t help but stare at her abs. “I could eat a six course meal off there.” 

“You’ve licked whipped cream off them before, detka.” 

“Yeah well - I - you’re just, damn.” You force yourself to blink. “Someone get me a glass…I’ve just found me a tall drink of water.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Smooth, darling, smooth. Hitting on me with Disney.” 

“Did it work?” 

“No. But A+ for effort.” 

“Dang it.” 

You pass out for a few minutes, after humming a song from Tangled to yourself. You’re warm. Cosy. Wrapped up in a Natasha scented burrito and it lulls you to sleep. Jerking only slightly when the car door opens and the cold wind hits your body. Natasha - because of course she is that strong - scoops you up effortlessly into her arms and easily moves you both to the elevator. Your neck drops back, a small snore escaping you. 

She has you. You’re officially asleep, safe and sound. Punishment already thought and saved ready for tomorrow. All she has to do is carefully place you on the bed, sneak out to get water and slide in next to you. 

Only, the second your head touches the pillow, your eyes fly open and Natasha’s soul almost leaps from her body.

“Jesus fuck!”

“Dumplings! Daddy, we left my dumplings!” 

Besides you, Wanda stirs. 

“No way, close your eyes and go back to sleep, Y/N. C’mon, You were snoring.”

You pout, tears once again forming in your eyes. 

“But - ” You hiccup. “They’re lonely! They saw me, they knew I was there to eat them and I left them there!” 

“Tomorrow, darling.” 

“No, now.” 

“I will get you all the dumplings in the world tomorrow, if you will just-go-to-sleep.”

You ponder, glossy eyes looking into Natasha’s stressed ones. 

“...that’s a whole lot of dumplings, daddy. Bit excessive actually.” 

“Detka, I swear to God -” 

“Deal!” You giggle. “God I love dumplings. Got a dumpling shaped hole in my tummy as we speak. Riiiight here.” You point to your stomach and Natasha has to stop herself from laughing. 

“Go to sleep and you will get them faster.” 

“...dumplings? What? What’s happening?”

It’s like you forgot Wanda was even there, reacting like a child of Christmas morning when you register she’s right next to you; auburn locks a wild mane around her head. 

“Hi!” 

Wanda’s scream of shock is muffled by your shoulder and you both end up rolling into Carol. 

Who isn’t impressed. At all. 

“Separate bedrooms, Romanoff. I told you.” She glares at the red head who has her face in her hands. “Why the fuck have I been woken up by Y/N talking about dumplings?” 

“She’s drunk.”

“Tipsy!”

“Oh I love tipsy, baby!” Wanda snuggles into you closer. “Hi tipsy baby.” 

“Hi none tipsy mommy!”

“I cannot - ” Carol jumps up out of the bed just in time to avoid being flattened by the two rolling bodies. “Nat, what?”

“It’s a long story.” 

“Tell me tomorrow. You’re on your own.” The blonde walks past Natasha and kisses her before vacating to the safety, and peaceful, spare room. “If you can’t control them, you know where I am. They’ll tire themselves out eventually.” 

“Or order enough dumplings to feed 5,000 people. Get off your phone, Wanda!” 

The other woman looks at her a little sheepishly. 

“But dumplings sound so good right now.” 

“Have fun babe!” Carol shouts. 

Natasha sighs, watching as you and Wanda roll around the bed excitedly. You’re part way through telling her about your adventure, far too sleep deprived to notice her dommy side appearing when you tell her you walked by yourself. It’s quickly squashed down when you mention Natasha’s brave and daring rescue and you mount her legs to stare into her eyes. 

“Dumplings, mommy. We need to get them.”

“We really do.”

With an over exaggerated eye roll, Natasha slams her head on the bedroom wall. 

“I give up.”

[starlightsuffered]

Just Friends

Info-friends to lovers, pining, doing Timmy's makeup, mention of lingerie, being catty to Timothée's gf, tickling, cock warming, best friends from childhood, mention of masturbation, jealousy, finger sucking, loud sex, neighbors hearing sex

We'd been best friends for ages. We'd grown up together. People always thought we were either related or a long time couple. We weren't either, just best friends. This has proved a problem when Timothée had started dating Miranda, because I got jealous and so did she. She hated me, but Timothée hadn't stopped spending time with me.

Right now we were having our monthly sleepover. I was painting his nails pink and black.

"Your hands are so nice, I wish I had hands as nice as you," | sighed.

"Hey stop your hands are adorable," he swatted me playfully.

"You know what happened the other day?" He asked, grabbing a piece of pop corn.

"Hmmm?" | asked as I concentrated on doing his nails perfectly.

"On our friendaversary post, someone from highschool congratulated me on my happy marriage and asked when the babies would be showing up. They obviously didn't read what I wrote. I thanked you for being my best friend, not wife," he laughed.

"I don't know, l'd have your babies," I said without thinking. I realized what I said and looked up at him. His mouth hung open and he looked shocked.

"I was kidding Timmy," I saved myself. He let out a shaky laugh.

"Okay, now for your makeup," I said excitedly. I was excited because I'd get to sit in his lap. I straddled him with the supplies. His phone rang as I began.

"Hey baby," he said and I rolled my eyes. He mouthed at me to be nice. He put her on speaker.

"Can you come over, I got new lingerie," she said sensually. I tried not to gag. Timothée looked at me. He was so pretty, and I would die if he chose her over our long time tradition, but who would deny their girlfriend in new lingerie?

"Mirri," he said guiltily. "You know what day it is."

"Friday?" She said sweetly.

"The fifteenth, you know every fifteenth I have a sleep over with y/n," he said carefully.

"Oh you can stand her up once," she snapped.

"I can't stand her up if I'm already at hers," he said weakly.

"You're already there?" He demanded.

"Hi Miranda," | called.

"And what position are you in?" She asked.

"What?" He said shakily.

"I'm in his lap, doing his makeup," I bragged.

"This is ridiculous," Miranda said and hung up.

"Sorry," I lied to him. He smirked.

"No you're not," he said and flipped us so he was over me and tickled me.

"Stop, I am sorry," I begged laughing so hard tears entered my eyes.

"Come on, time for the photo shoot," he smiled. We always switched into each others clothing and took pictures. Later we sat together on the couch and looked through them.

"That one, post that one, you look adorable," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked and looked up at him. We were quiet for a moment, he ran a tentative finger from my cheekbone to my lips. Before I knew what I was doing I took his finger into my mouth. He moaned as I swirled my tongue around it, tasting the metal of his rings.

"Y/n," he gasped.

"I love you," I said. He pulled his finger from my lips.

"I love you too," he said.

"No, Timothée, my Timmy," I said desperately and straddled him. I grabbed onto the front of his shirt and clenched the fabric.

"I'm IN love with you. I want you," I said.

"In love with me?" He blinked several times.

"I know you're with Miranda, but-"

"Don't pretend she even holds a candle to you," he growled, and suddenly I was flush against him.

"Do you know how long l've wanted you? How long I've waited for you to realize we're soulmates?" He asked me.

"Really?"

"I've been in love with you since I was five. I was losing hope, so I tried with Miranda, but it's only ever been you that I love," he breathed out desperately.

"Oh, Timmy, my Timmy," | said, nearly crying in gratitude.

"I've always been yours," he said and kissed my hand.

"It'll make me a terrible boyfriend, but l've gotta have you. I've waited too long," he said gathering me to him. I beamed and kissed him full on the mouth. We both gasped, the feeling was heavenly and perfectly right.

"Why on earth weren't we doing this before?" I moaned into our wild kiss.

"I have no idea," he whimpered. Soon we were desperately ripping each others clothes off. He held me at arms length for a moment. He was grinning as his eyes drank in my figure. He gulped, closed his eyes and shook his head.

"You are unbelievably attractive," he groaned.

"So are you," I panted.

"I can't believe l'm going to touch your body. You are the first thing I masturbated to, I felt so guilty but it felt so good," he told me.

I tackled him and was kissing him hard. He whined into my mouth and guided his cock inside me. I sucked in a sharp breath as I felt the fullness.

"Please, oh Timothée please don't feel guilty, fuck me like you've always dreamed," I demanded. He switched us so he was over me. He attached our mouths and kissed me desperately as he fucked into me.

Neither of us could stay quiet. My neighbors even pounded on the wall but I couldn't stop for a second. His body, oh his body, and his lips, and his noises.

"Fuck, mmmmmffff, your skin tastes so good," he moaned as he peppered kisses all over my breasts. He lapped at my nipple.

"F-fuck, Timmy, this feels so good. You're my best friend and my soul mate and I would have your babies. I love you so damn much," I whimpered and arched up into his body. His hands were all over me.

"I love you," he sucked on my neck and groaned into my skin. He grabbed my ass, and hooked an arm under me so we were closer. I locked my ankles around him.

"I can't be close enough to you," he whined.

"I love hearing you, oh I can just hear the years of pining in your voice. Why didn't you scream at me that it could be so good," | pleaded with him.

"I didn't want to lose you."

"You'll never lose me, never ever," I promised.

We were kissing again. His lips were hot and needy. I rolled my body against him.

"Can I cum? Can I cum inside you like I've dreamed for so long?" He begged.

"Please, please fill me," | gasped. He screamed as his cock began to shoot inside me. I was next and I was bathed in star light as I shattered. I was repeating his name over and over.

"Oh, that was so good," Timothée moaned and buried his face in my neck.

"It really was," I sighed. I rubbed his back and smiled to myself.

"I'm so happy right now I could cry," he whispered.

"You've got me baby and I'm not going anywhere. You're my boyfriend now as well as my best friend," I told him.

He beamed at me and pecked my lips.

[artfinderartist]

Couple days late but happy 40th Friendaversary Rhett and Link! I been a fan for a long time and they have made me laugh so many times I can’t count. One of my first “realism” draws were both of them (which they have with them when I met them so hope it still looks good 😭) So I gave it a go once more and did a screenshot redraw from their latest series of Wonderhole! :)

Enjoy!

Version without photo background+ Reference below!

[tottymatsuuu]

HAPPY BEST FRIENDAVERSARY @number-cheetos @art-shovel9 !!!

Thank you both for being my bestest of friends!

I love you both like little siblings. Thank you for being there through my hardships, and know I’ll be there for yours always! You guys deserve the absolute best!

TOTTY LOVES YOU BOTH! 💕💕💕