#im actually not supposed to know all this

[dgaftilwedie]

redoing this again cuz the last time i did this, it was like almost a year ago... but now that im thinking about it my answers are kind of similar............

NAMGYU NAMGYU NAMGYU .... recently also michael de santa :3 (hoffman and billy lenz and the nameless ghouls are pretty much always there in the background too)

lighter ALWAYSSSSS

it's usually always cracked in the summer but i lock it in three different places because im paranoid

literally all of them

brown :3

idk man :( i thought it would be funny

hair ties are just easier to keep on me but i can't deny a good scrunchie

three but one of them doesn't even have water in it, it has hawaiian punch

ICED coffee, and it has to be like diabetes-in-a-cup for me to enjoy it

probably ^___^

writing

a very sleep kind

uhmmmmmm it's 1:42am now so like... maybe around midnight-ish???

who doesn't???

proud cat mom :3

ermm....... no....... no not yet........ soon i hope......... soon.........

the one where i can't see things far away

i use men's 2 in one shampoo ... that's it

DURRRRRR

soda

all of my stuffed animals... im supposed to be getting rid of some of them but that's going to be so hard

i don't know :3 i just go off of what people say

i like it sometimes, like in the fall through the early winter and also the early spring but i get kind of tired of it because i get cold easily. i would much rather be chilly than gross and warm and sweaty though............

probably talking... long ass conversation. maybe with drinks. i could go for a monster rn...

i feel like i use perfume more

not to be graphic but michael de santa giving me hella backshots

last night i think i got around like 8 hours??? i think???

not anymore... i haven't for like 3 years

cozy warm but not so hot it like, burns my skin and makes me look like a tomato

there are two cups, one bowl, and one fork... this is a record for me actually

anything by ghost, the gdtop album, swan songs by hollywood undead... and also my whole comfort band playlist

yes... it's supposed to be a beach towel but i use it for my showers anyways :P it has white and pink stripes on it

i went on a hike today with one of my friends. we bumped into each other at a gas station and were like "fuck it let's do something" so we went to a trail up the road. we also totally misread the maps so we ended up taking a way more like... physically complicated path instead of the more relaxed one so that was fun!!! my body hurts!!! then we went to get food and i got sushi AND chicken tenders ... yum yum yum

uhmmmmmmmmm first song that came to mind was he is by ghost

est :3

i changed it to something else ONCE and then i was immediately like "ew this is gross" like i lost my brand or something... i changed it back within 5 minutes LMFAOAOAO

a couple of my friends from elementary school, but there's only like three of them

i don't... use... soap bars...

YES GODDDDDDD YESSSSSSSSSSS i have a giant collection that just keeps growing... some of my favorites are chapstick clover honey, sour patch kids blue raspberry (it tastes sour), maple bacon, mountain dew livewire, and reese's peanut butter cup :3

today as in march 16th, no. today as in march 15th (because i haven't gone to bed), yeah i had smartfood

45% coffee, 25% creamer/milk/half&half/whatever the fuck, 30% sugar and whatever flavoring im feeling that day. ICED. so fucking iced it's basically a popsicle.

tiktok...................

i like them sometimes if they're not too spicy... i need to like make myself more tolerant to spice

i plead the 5th

yesterday as in march 15th, yes... yesterday as in march 14th, no.........?????? maybe?????? i don't remember right now it was probably just me playing gta v all day

BLACK CHRISTMAS 1974 WOOOOOOOO also the newer miser brothers christmas special... the one that was released in either 2008 or 2009 i don't remember exactly

"YOU DON'T KNOW DUCK TALES????????"

it was like 2021 i think, i was 15, and my mom gave me a sip of wine... EW.

i think i figured it out last summer ... but i haven't tried in a while

yeah sure why not idc :P

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[kenyummy]

guysssssgyuysss ok i never thought id post about neglevtful batfam ever but im lit rotting so hard

spidey reader who gets transported to an alternate dimension where you replace a different you—a you that's the "forgotten" child of the waynes. in this universe, you're bitter, quiet, not the wise-cracking hero your universe adores—most of all, you're not spidey here. spidey doesn't even exist.

(alfred is the uncle ben esque figure??? perhaps???)

you don't even know who your supposed family even is—you only find out through diary entries and searching through this other you's phone—so you barely give them the time of day.

you're too busy now to fret about their vigilantism—to annoy them—you have your own problems as spidey to try and form a bond. you just want to go home.

the fam on the other handdddd — they are confused. a new spider hero pops up out of nowhere—and you're suddenly as cold as ice. you don't bother to cook meals with Alfred anymore, nor bring them first aid kits and give them sad eyes when they shoo you away.

the house lacks the presence of normality you used to bring—now you're up till 3am doing God knows what (spidey stuff) and you're too busy to even try and start a conversation (not that it ever went anywhere, but still).

theyre all so confused and freaked out by your sudden change overnight that they start to miss you and how normal you were—not knowing how it grounded them all until you started to ice them out </3

you have far more pressing matters to attend to, like the strange influx of people from your world either already existing or being transported here—on top of keeping your secret identity safe from your suddenly overbearing and worrysome family members.

(you don't even want to know what they'd do if they found out you're the reckless spider hero that stopped a train from going off its tracks just last monday).

at some point (probably after they find out you're spidey) you tell them about how this isn't actually their you, and that you're from another universe—but they're so far gone they don't even care at that point—they love u and just want u back already!!!

they don't care you're not technically their [name], they love you more than anything and you're their sibling!! no way youll be going "back home" now. this is your home, silly!

give up that whole hero thing—they got it covered. you just need to go back to normal and they'll protect you (even though you need protecting the least out of all of them—but they don't see that)!!! they miss their slice of normal in their hectic life, you can't take that away from them!

im lit geekinggggvggg stop guys i

lowkey im thinking of love interests being some of my guilty pleasure spidey ships ahgaseHhhh but like it'll acc play a part in the plot trust

spideytorch and parksborne my lovesloves harry and johnny so badddd but i also love kon GAHHHN fml

but I could see them HATINGGGG johnny like they would want him GONE. esp if they see him (before ur reveal) kissing you on a rooftop as spidey, then walking around arm in arm with you at school—convinced that he's cheating on their baby sibling (you're the same age as tim, but okay) !!!! every time they hear you're going out w him they try their hardest to keep you away—you have no business going out w a guy like that 😒

they wouldn't want a womaniser player like him anywhere NEAR you!!! you may trust him, but they do notttt

theyd probably be a little more okay with harry... hes one of those gotham elites—but he chose to go to the "poorer" school with you for years because he just wanted to be w you and mj. he's a little snobby, but isn't every nepo baby? hes lowkey your damsel in distress like you end up saving him in all kinds of situations by princess style carrying him out of a burning building heheheer

(also his dad isn't crazy and green goblin... yet)

obviously the fam already has a lil beef with kon... being... kon (even tim wouldnt want his bestest buddy to go after his spider sibling). not as bad as johnny... but you shouldn't be dating guys, period. aren't they all you need?

anywayssss yes. this has been rotting me so bad I lowkey need to spill this b4 I go crazy stfhhhgrsgghh

SHOULD I WRITE THIS BC I HAVE SUCH BAD BRAINROTTT

[chrattho1]

matt sturniolo blurb

this early?

warnings: handjob, sub!matt, use of petnames, this is not proofread at all

“mhhph” matt stirs in his sleep. his voice throaty and his eyes heavy , his broad framed chest pressed against your back, hands sliding down to your hips giving your side a little squeeze.

“ma?” he purposely leans into your ear, making sure you hear him.

“mhm?” you frown in your sleep, eyes still shut. not wanting to wake up yet.

“i am so hard right now” matt’s chapped bottom lip grazes your earlobe, making your spine shiver.

you turn yourself around to face him, finally forcing your eyes open. your hand pulls the blanket up lazily to get a look at his condition.

he is so hard right now.

“this early?” a small smile tugs at your sleepy features, teasing him already.

“ugh you know how i get, you were pushing your ass back in me all night. what am i supposed to do?” matt whines pulling you closer.

“you haven’t been such a good boy lately huh?” you already knew that comment is going to make him whine even more. but you liked hearing him like that. when he is just so desperate.

“come on, please ma, i’ll be good, i promise” his thighs pressed together, almost wiggling on the bed.

your fingers trace patterns over his white shirt, clearly enjoying this more than you should.

“mhh…what should we do about this then?” your voice growing seductive with each word, he knows where this is going and he knows you’re going to take your time with him now.

“just-just anything, anything you want mama, i promise i’ll be good” he begs and grabs your arms in his, tightly holding onto them.

“fine, if you promise to do so” your fingers slowly trailing down over his grey tented boxers, and matt is already squirming.

you softly but firmly push his shoulders down to make lay flat on the bed, his breathing heavy.

your body swiftly straddling his lap, legs on either side of his thighs.

“please, ma” he looks at you with the softest most pleading look ever.

“you know i cant say no to that face” you bop his nose, and he whines at your subtle tease at his behaviour.

“so whiny are we?” you scrunch your nose up.

“im gonna cum just like this if you keep that up” matt almost threatens, growing moody every second he has to spend with a raging boner and you propped on his lap.

your hand lays softly on his stomach making its way under his shirt, which is actually nick’s but he’d never admit to that.

once your palm comes in contact with his skin, matt sighs, his tense body relaxing as your hand rubs circles on his stomach under his shirt.

“so tense, ease up baby” you speak seductively arching your back pressing your body onto him.

“fuuuck” matt moans, you know for a fact that if you keep the teasing up for a few more minutes, he will cum just like that.

“ma, please” matt begs again, and fuck does he look good doing it. the way his eyebrows tie, his eyes hood, and his cheeks flush. he is at your mercy completely.

your hand thats on his stomach slides down to his boxers again, settling to cup him through them.

matt’s hips buck at the contact, whimpers fall from his mouth as you slowly stroke him through the boxers.

“oh my—fuuuck” his head falls back, he is a moaning and whimper mess under your slight touch.

“oh you poor boy, is this what you wanted?” your lips form a mocking pout after speaking, your head tilts slightly in front of him.

“y-yes, yes this is what—fuck!” matt speaks between groans and whimpers, god he would be such a good pornstar. you think.

your movements stop, and your hand lays flat on his damp boxers. matt whines again, and this time louder than before.

you smirk at his reaction, wanting more of it.

your index finger tugs at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down slowly, a glimmer of hope and excitement settles on matt’s face.

the moment the boxers slide down, his dick flops up to his stomach, twitching and releasing another bead of pre-cum.

matt groans as the air hits his painfully hard cock, his tip red and swollen.

you waste no time and wrap a small hand at the base of his shaft, slowly moving it all the way up to his tip. your thumb spreading the bead of pre-cum.

“oh m—holy shit” matts mouth hung open as his head props to look at you, sitting on him and teasing his tip.

you lean down hovering your mouth over his tip, his cock twitching in your hand again. you let your tongue fall out, slowly dripping your saliva on to his already moist and dripping tip.

matt’s eyes never leave the scene, moaning and gripping the sheets with everything in him to contain himself.

once your spit is covering his dick sufficiently, your hand starts moving again, this time with a little more pressure.

“ye-yes fuck yes!” his head falls back again, his body jerking and twitching with each one of your strokes.

you look at him carefully, small hair sticking to his forehead,his face all red with a frown on it, he is just so beautiful.

“im gonna cum! im gon’—fuck!” his dick twitches in your hand like a vibrator as he cums, spraying white ropes all over your shirt, your movements come to a halt but your hand still stays wrapped around him.

matt’s chest heaves and his body twitches as his orgasm dies down slowly.

“fuck—” matt looks up at you, his worn out expression giving you just enough to start stroking him again, this time faster.

matt jolts and settles back on the bed, his thighs quivering as his body processes the feeling.

“G-GOD FUCK!” matt screeches, his hand flying to your thigh, grasping onto your pjs.

“f—fuck too much, too much” his voice cracking and his eyes glistening.

you can see his stomach muscles tightening through his white shirt, hes close again.

“OH FUCK ME—FUCK OH—” his eyes pressed together and his nails digging through the soft fabric of your pyjamas.

“you can do it, i know” you speak softly, pulling your other hand that laid on his chest around his dick too, moving faster with every stroke.

his hips buck and his back arches off the bed, his legs shaking beneath you as he comes undone, again.

stray tears hanging at the crinkles of his eyes, as he presses them close. his teeth plough on his bottom lip.

“what-the fuck” he manages to say, his body giving up but still squirmy and tense with aftershocks.

you smile at him, pulling your slick hand off of his dick and it plops down on his stomach, still twitching here and there.

you finally pull yourself up, and remove your cum covered shirt off

“don’t—i don’t think i can—” matt’s tired eyes look away from you, not wanting to get hard again at the sight of you in a bra.

taglist: @espressqe @ginswife @sturnsburna @carolina454 @hope2244 @hotgirlbl0gger @violetstxrniolo777 @riggysworld @verycoolmiyah @fadedstvrn @purpledreamertyphoon @mattsplaything @whore4chris @annsx03 @mattsdemi @chrislittleslut @poolover123 @luvvnai @chrissturniolossidehoe @pompomprrin @harmonysturniolo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @soph-loren @ccsturns @lovesturni0l0s @chriss-slutt @wysmols @sturniolosluttt @mattsdillion @alyssa-sturn @bilssturns @sturnobessed @mxnsonn @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @chrissturnioloswife88 @sxphiee3 @purpledreamertyphoon @whoreforchrissturnniolo @slutformatt17 @realuvrrr @sweetxcheeryx @sturnl0ve @estellesdoll @courta13 @mattsbitchh @slvtf0rchr1s @trevorsgodmother @submattenthusiast

[bucketbueckers]

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: language, slight cheating (deserved? 🌚), messy, toxicity, gaslighting, angst (w a happy ending bc angst without a happy ending makes me want to jump)

wc: 9.2k

synopsis: The unspoken truth between you and Azzi was that the two of you weren’t just friends. There was always something more, something that lingered just beneath the surface, something that was so glaringly obvious to your mutual friends yet something neither of you wanted to fully acknowledge. You thought that it was safer this way – keeping your relationship with Azzi strictly platonic, saving the both of you from an eventual heartbreak. Unfortunately, it seems that a toxic girlfriend you weren’t quite committed to was actually all it took for the two of you to give up on trying to stay away from each other.

notes: this was supposed to be a lighter read but 💛 anon said i should make a really angsty fic and well. who am i to deny the people. this was not originally going to have as much plot as it did but my fics never stay on track 🌚 also this is a little all over the place so im sorry!!! as always i hope y'all enjoy 🫶

For as long as you’ve known her, Azzi Fudd wasn’t just your friend. There was always something more between you. Gazes that lingered a little too long, a hand on a waist that burned in the most pleasant way possible, softer smiles that seemed to be reserved only for each other.

You met her during your freshman year – she was a freshman, too, a little wide-eyed and definitely out of her element at the crowded frat party. You were only there for “team bonding” and you quickly realized that “team bonding” meant your teammates were going to get plastered and you’d have to be the babysitter. You’d spotted Azzi from the corner of your eye while you were rummaging through the refrigerator for a water bottle, and, in a rare moment of smoothness where you didn’t stumble over your words because Azzi was drop dead fucking gorgeous, like stunningly beautiful, you’d asked if she wanted a water, too. She told you yes. For good measure, you stole a bowl of hummus and some pita chips from the pantry, asked if she wanted to get some air, and that was that. She told you her name under the glow of the porchlight and you told her yours through a coughing fit (which she’d been endlessly amused by) because the hummus was spicy for whatever reason – either way, you and Azzi had an instant connection, one that went a little deeper than hummus and chips at midnight and an easy conversation you’d never expected to have with a stranger, and frankly, you were a little too scared to give up what you had with her to ever think about acting on your growing feelings.

So, you never did. You never let anything slip – never gave any sort of indication that occasionally, you jolt awake late at night, your skin burning with what feels like the phantom press of Azzi’s lips against your skin. You don’t tell anyone how you’ve spent years organizing that little compartment in the corner of your brain that’s dedicated purely to Azzi – the meticulous system of filing cabinet-esque thoughts and facts about her; you know that you store her favorite color right next to her coffee order, only three rows down from vivid images of her smile, the dimples on her cheeks, the slight pout of her lips.

If anyone asked, Azzi Fudd was just your best friend, and you were hers. It seemed as though Azzi was none the wiser – or perhaps she was too polite to say anything otherwise, or maybe she’d felt the same way, too, and was just as afraid of ruining your friendship as you were – no way that was actually the truth, though. Despite your best efforts, you weren’t as subtle as you thought. Paige was convinced that you and Azzi were meant to be. Caroline always glanced at you meaningfully when you and Azzi walked into the room at the same time or when she caught you staring at her from afar. It was as though you and Azzi were just one big inside joke that everyone was in on but the two of you.

It’s a late night at Ted’s when you find yourself nursing a drink at your usual table. Paige had stolen Aubrey and Ayanna away to play some pool, KK, Jana, and Ice were dancing, and Azzi and Caroline went to the bathroom to freshen up. In times like these, you wish you were just a little better at saying no to Azzi – there’s something in the air that’s bringing your mood down and you can’t figure out what it is. It’s like a heaviness weighing down on you, a sort of dread that fills your veins. You’re sure the liquor isn’t helping either. Granted, you’re only a few sips in, not one to ever progress past tipsy, but you’re not really feeling the night out. Azzi had gazed at you with her big doe eyes, lips drawing into a pout. You figure you’d have a better chance at fighting off a bear than living with yourself after denying Azzi something.

“Hey–”

You can’t help the way you startle, lost in your thoughts. Azzi’s tinkling laughter reverberates in this small bubble of space you’ve created in the back corner of the bar; despite yourself, your lips curl into an amused smile, Azzi’s presence alone enough to lift your mood. “How’s the brooding, Batman?”

Huffing out something akin to laughter, you roll your eyes a little, sliding over in the booth to let Azzi in. She sits, eliminating the space between your bodies completely; you swallow, trying to not fixate on the way her shorts ride up on her thighs as her skin presses against yours, and Azzi? She’s the perfect picture of nonchalance, taking a sip from her drink like she’s completely unaware of how she’s turned your brain into mush. “Not brooding,” you argue. You don’t comment on how weak your voice sounds. Blessedly, Azzi doesn’t either, but she sets her drink down on the table to gaze at you. 

Her brows draw together when she asks, “You okay?” Her fingers brush across your cheek and up your temple, which makes all of the blood rush to your head. “You’re feeling a little hot. You sure you’re not catching whatever bug Kayla and Jana had?”

You try for a chuckle, but even that comes out unconvincing. “Might be the alcohol,” you deflect, knowing full well that the two and a half sips you’ve had weren’t even enough to get you buzzed. The truth of the matter is that after a while, this just gets exhausting – pretending that you weren’t completely head over heels for Azzi. She’s your best friend. It’s easy to hide your feelings during the day when you’re both occupied – Azzi with basketball, you with softball – but things change at night. You’re looser, less-restrained, and all of the walls you keep up during the day to keep your feelings at bay come crashing down. Everything just feels so much more stronger and part of you starts to wonder if it’s worth it anymore – harboring your feelings. Maybe saying them out loud would be enough for you to start working through them and finally get over Azzi. Maybe you could finally be just friends again and you could spend time with her without hyperfocusing on how each and every one of your nerve-endings light up with activity at the slightest brush of her skin against yours.

Then, Azzi’s smiling at you, something soft and warm and mischievous all at the same time, like she’s got a trick up her sleeve and she knows that you’ll spend hours trying to figure out what it is. Her next words surprise you, moreso when her hand circles around your wrist, intertwining your fingers. “Come dance with me,” she requests.

Your throat bobs as you swallow, glancing at her hesitantly. “What?” you say smartly.

Azzi rolls her eyes, standing and pulling you to her feet. “I said–” She plants her hands on your shoulders and all you can really do is let yours fall to her waist, your fingers catching on her belt loops, “–come dance with me. You’ve been sitting too long. No wonder that half a shot of alcohol is kicking your ass.”

“It was like two shots,” you shoot back, but you let Azzi drag you across the room. You catch Paige’s eye as she leans over the pool table, lining up her shot, and she gives you a knowing look that just makes your cheeks heat up all over again. If you never got the chance to tell Azzi how you’d felt, you were sure that Paige Bueckers and that big ass mouth of hers would find a way to slip up and tell Azzi herself. “And you know that bartender uses that strong tequila.”

“I think you’re just a lightweight, babe,” Azzi states, pulling you into her space as she leads you to the beat of the music. You try to not focus too much on her words, but babe has begun to circulate through your mind on repeat, bumping into things haphazardly. Before you know it, one of your last remaining brain cells has caught the word in a jar like a butterfly and has stored it in that compartment in your brain next to everything you know about Azzi. The jar is tucked onto a shelf, only a few rows down from your filing cabinet system; one day you’ll worry about just how much space in your brain is dedicated to Azzi Fudd, but as her hands burn marks into your skin, guiding your body against hers, you find that you don’t really care.

Neither of you say anything as you dance along to the song. You can feel the bass in the ground, reverberating through your body as it races up your spine. You feel Azzi’s hand splayed across your waist, her grip firm, like there’s some sort of unspoken promise that she’d lose it if you weren’t in her personal space at all times – she spins you around, your back to her front, and the drag of her fingertips against your skin makes your head dizzy. Her breath tickles the back of your neck, her voice sweet as she hums in tune with the singer through the crackling speakers.

It’s in times like these that everything fades away – your hesitation, your insecurities, the worries that Azzi may never truly reciprocate what you feel for her. All you can truly focus on is the gradually lessening space between the two of you, the cloud of her perfume in the air, each and every one of her whispered lyrics and the smile she presses against your temple. You’re not sure if there’s a chance in hell that you’d be able to get over her. But for now, that’s the least of your worries, far too lost in the warmth of her palm against your bare skin where your shirt has ridden up – until you’re dragged back into the real world.

Azzi’s grip has tightened on you, but you barely register it as you open your eyes to see who has interrupted you. It’s a girl, probably around your age, hair dyed a red so dark that it’s nearly brown. She’s wearing a form-fitting black dress, and sure, she’s conventionally attractive, but Azzi has had your attention for nearly four years; you can’t think or look at anyone that’s not her. When the redhead asks Azzi to dance, a hopeful smile on her face, you feel your stomach churn immediately. It’s enough to sober you up fully – drunk not because of the alcohol, but because you’d allowed yourself to fall into Azzi as if the two of you were actually together. You’re reminded of the fact she’s just your best friend. The way she’s holding you means nothing. You feel Azzi’s gaze on you, but before she can say anything, you extract yourself from her hold, smiling unconvincingly at her, and you’re too unfocused to notice the way her face falls.

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” you say, nodding meaningfully to the redhead as bile pools in your throat. “You have fun, okay?”

You’re gone before Azzi can say anything else, unwilling to look back. You push your way through the crowd to the bar, swallowing back the humiliation and the fact that despite everything, a part of you still yearns for Azzi, and you motion to the bartender, requesting another drink. You dig through your wallet for your card, fingers trembling, cursing under your breath when it refuses to slide out of the little pocket it’s nestled in.

“I got it,” someone else says. You glance up to see an unfamiliar woman offering her card out for the bartender to swipe. She flashes you a charismatic smile and in return, all you can do is raise your brow.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say, but you slide your wallet back into your pocket, anyway.

“Seemed like you needed a pick me up,” she says, shrugging a shoulder. “Saw you dancing with that girl over there – I was hoping she wasn’t your girlfriend, because I’ve been wanting to buy you a drink all night.”

You take a cautious sip, glancing back into the crowd of people, your eyes finding Azzi immediately. She’s dancing half-heartedly with the redhead, a generous amount of space between the two of them, and she seems to feel your eyes on her because she turns her head, locking eyes with you. You stare for a beat, then avert your gaze, making eye contact with the woman before you. She’s blonde, easy on the eyes, and she seems nice enough. Why not? “We aren’t together,” you state – although you wish you were – and her smile seems to grow.

She tells you her name – Alex – and the two of you dance for about fifteen minutes until Jana, with the grace of a bull in a China shop, interrupts to complain about a tummy ache and that everyone needs to go home. You weren’t sure where she got the logic on that one, but Jana had seemed desperate, and you weren’t going to tell her off in front of Alex.

You and Alex exchanged numbers. Still, she was nice enough, but she wasn’t Azzi. Maybe she was what you needed to get over Azzi, though. Conversation flowed nicely between the two of you and you had some things in common. Maybe you could grow to like her. Maybe you just needed to find someone the opposite of Azzi – blonde, boisterous, and short – to get over the crush you had on her (though you weren’t stupid enough to actually think it was a crush).

Azzi drives you home after Ted’s that night. You’re both silent for the first few minutes until she speaks up. “Did you have fun?” she asks cautiously. You don’t need to ask her to clarify – you know what she means.

You also know that you can’t lie to Azzi. You’ve never been any good at it. She glances at you from the corner of her eye and you feel yourself sink a little further into her passenger seat. “Would’ve had more fun with you,” you confess, watching as some of the tension melts from her shoulders.

“Then why didn’t you?”

You shrug a little, picking at your cuticles. You know exactly why you pushed her away. You just weren’t strong enough to admit it to her. “The redhead seemed to like you,” you say softly. “You don’t have to spend all your time with me. You can like…see other people. Do shit. Have fun. I don’t wanna be your clingy best friend.”

Azzi’s jaw ticks as she signals left, coming to a stop in the turn lane as she waits for the light to change. “What if I want to?” she murmurs. “Spend time with you, I mean. It’s not clingy. It’s just us.” That’s kind of the issue. You don’t voice that thought out loud, trying to ignore the rapid pounding of your heart, too. She speaks again before you can, her voice coming out in an almost petulant huff. “I don’t even remember her name.”

At that, you choke on a laugh, finally lifting your head to look at her. “Whose?” you ask. “The redhead?”

“Yeah,” Azzi confirms, pressing on the gas once the light turns green. “She wasn’t you.”

You swallow thickly. “Alex’s not you, either,” you whisper.

Azzi makes a soft noise in the back of her throat. “Alex,” she repeats, like she’s in disbelief. “Do you like her?”

You shrug again, noncommittal. “She’s…nice,” you say. “And she bought me a seven dollar drink, so…” Azzi doesn’t find that as humorous as you did, her lips drawing into a pout, one you would have teased her for had the situation been less tense. “Az, what’s the issue? I was with her for like, twenty-five minutes. I’m not getting married to her.”

That makes Azzi fall silent again, contemplating her next words. “No issue,” she says, clearing her throat, as if sobering back up. “I’m sorry. I think the alcohol made me moody.”

You don’t comment on how she barely made it through her first drink before switching to water, but she didn’t comment on your lies and deflections, either. “It’s okay,” you say, summoning the courage to nudge her gently. She glances at you once more, a soft look on her face as you say, “Who’s brooding now, Batman?”

That makes her roll her eyes, giggling under her breath before she refocuses on the road. The tension in the car dissolves as she turns on your shared playlist, continuing to drive. For a moment, it feels like nothing is wrong. Tonight was just weird. There’s nothing going on between you and Azzi. Then, your phone buzzes in your lap, the screen lighting up with a text notification from an unknown number. It’s Alex – letting you know that she enjoyed getting to meet you and that she’d like to see you again. You feel the unmistakable feeling of dread wrap its iron fist around your heart. Too caught up in your own reaction to the message, you don’t notice how Azzi’s knuckles turn white as they grip the wheel.

Against your better judgement, you do see Alex again. You stared at her message for a few hours, trying to come up with one good reason why you couldn’t give her a chance, but your mind came up blank every time. She was nice, attentive, had a good sense of humor, and she was wholly focused on you when you’d spend time together. Still, no matter what, you couldn’t shake the image of warm brown eyes from the forefront of your mind. You tell yourself that it’s not supposed to be an overnight change. You don’t love someone for four years and expect it to go away. So, you give Alex that chance (even though it feels so wrong), and she treats you to a few dates over the course of three weeks.

You get to know her. At the very least, she’s a good friend and a charismatic date. She tips well, makes you laugh, and she has an adorable little weiner dog named Bruiser (“Legally Blonde style,” she’d said jokingly, which did make you laugh, mostly because Bruiser, despite his name, was dressed in a cute pair of pink pajamas). By the third date, you start to feel a little hopeful that you’re finally making progress. Alex doesn’t push you – she seems to understand that you want to take it slow, which is something that you’re grateful for. She hasn’t asked you to be her girlfriend yet, either, which is also something you’re grateful for. Becoming her girlfriend this early feels too real, like the idea of you and Azzi is something that you’re fully leaving in the past. Keeping up the facade around Azzi does weigh on you, but it’s become something that feels like a core part of you and being without it feels wrong.

Speaking of Azzi, you don’t tell her too much about the Alex situation. She doesn’t ask much about her, either, a barely concealed look of irritation clouding her features whenever her name is mentioned. She hasn’t told you that she doesn’t like Alex, but at this point, you think her telling you is more of a formality than anything else. It’s clear as day that she hates Alex’s guts, although you don’t suppose Azzi will ever tell you why.

Maybe you’ll be better off this way – having one part of your life that doesn’t revolve around Azzi – well, doesn’t revolve completely around Azzi. Hopefully this little bit of independence will be good for you. This feels more like blind reassurance than actual confidence, but you’ll take what you can get at this point.

As you and Alex spend more time together, something changes with Azzi. At first, it’s nothing serious and you hardly even notice it. Azzi’s texts come a little more frequent, your FaceTimes a little longer. It’s miniscule especially because you and Azzi already text frequently and you spend hours on FaceTime together, but it’s more like a concerted effort to keep you with her and talking to her for longer periods of time. You’re not exactly sure why, although you’re not complaining; you’ve always enjoyed your late night phone conversations where Azzi loses her filter and rambles on and on for hours about the funny things that happen at practice or the latest picture of Stewie that her mom had sent her. You do have to admit this change in behavior makes it a little more difficult to get over Azzi – the constant proximity and speaking isn’t doing you any favors – but you can’t just abandon Azzi because you’re talking to Alex now. Your goal is to go back to a complete, platonic friendship with her, not ice her out completely.

Azzi’s behavior does progress, though. Still, it’s subtle – she’ll come over to your apartment more often or invite you over to hers more frequently. You’ll spend the night watching movies, giggling over the shitty acting or singing along to the Disney movies that Azzi ropes you into watching with her (as if you’d ever say no to her). It ends with her convincing you to stay over or her coming up with a slick excuse how she should just stay the night since her apartment is so far away (that you see right through – Azzi Fudd is a lot of things but a good liar is not one). Sometimes she’ll leave behind a shirt or a hair tie at your apartment; when you ask if she wants you to bring it over, her response is always the same: “Nah, keep it. I don’t have enough space in my closet for that shirt,” or “I noticed you were running out of hair ties anyways – you should just keep it.”

(When Alex comes over, she’ll notice each and every new addition, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Azzi left her sweatpants this time?” she asks, gingerly moving them from the foot of your bed to your desk chair. You don’t notice the bothered look on her face as you hum.

“Yeah,” you say, not thinking much of it. “She said she has too many.”

“Right,” Alex hums, not quite convinced. “You don’t want any of mine?”

Confused, you glance at Alex, busy folding your own laundry. “Your what?”

Alex huffs quietly. “...Forget about it.”)

Then, the behavior ramps up. Azzi is touchier, borderline clingy, which is different because you’re usually the clingy one between you and Azzi. It’s not that obvious when the two of you are watching movies at night – she’ll just lean against you, her head on your shoulder and a leg slung over yours, but in public? She’s almost possessive, always needing to be in contact one way or the other, a firm arm wrapped around your waist at all times. When tipsy randoms approach you to ask to dance, she doesn’t even let them finish their sentences before she’s tightening her arm around you, shaking her head with faux sympathy, and saying, “Sorry, she’s spoken for.”

In public is one thing. But in public when Alex is around is when Azzi really shines. You and Alex aren’t official yet, which is something that Azzi seems to take advantage of. Azzi buys all your drinks, glancing at Alex when she smiles that honey-sweet smile and says, “C’mon, you know I got you, right?” She always whisks you away to dance before Alex can get the chance to, and to be honest, you let her. Deep down, you know that you’d rather be doing this anyway – dancing with Azzi, letting her pull you close like she’s trying to stake a claim or prove something to someone, letting her whisper the lyrics in your ear and the both of you laughing when she starts making up her own words because the actual ones don’t make any sense.

You don’t think much of Azzi’s behavior until Alex calls you that night when Azzi’s in the shower. Alex offered to drive you home, but Azzi stepped in to let her know that you’d be staying over with Azzi to watch a new movie that had recently come out – you weren’t aware those were the plans, but you didn’t mind, either. You’re doing your skincare at Azzi’s vanity when your phone rings. Part of you is tempted to let it go to voicemail, but Alex had seemed bothered, and while the two of you weren’t official yet, you didn’t want to be an asshole.

“Hello?” you greet, pressing the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you rub in your moisturizer. 

“Hey,” Alex says. You hear her exhale sharply. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I don’t really know how to, like, explain this, but I feel like you keep blowing me off for Azzi,” Alex states, which makes you pause in your movements. “I feel like Azzi is jealous – of me – and she keeps trying to, fuck, I don’t know, worm her way in between us to keep you away from me? And you just let her do that shit.” You’re silent, letting her words echo in your brain, but she keeps speaking before you get the chance to. “I know she’s your friend. But ‘friends’ don’t behave like that. She’s one day away from pissing on you like a dog to mark her territory and I just need to know – do you even like me? Is this going anywhere? Because I feel like I’m going fucking crazy. I’m trying to be nice about it but at this point I can’t tell what you want from me.”

You open your mouth, then close it, looking vaguely fish-like in the mirror. You can hear Alex’s breathing from the other end of the line as you try to gather your thoughts. Finally, you settle, and gently you say, “Azzi is my best friend.” You can almost visualize Alex’s eye roll, the soft huff that she thinks the microphone doesn’t pick up on. “She’s not jealous. Just…protective, I guess. She’s not trying to get in between us – we’re just always close like that.”

“Then tell her to chill,” Alex says frustratedly. “It’s making me feel like I’m the other woman – like I’m just something you’re stringing along in case Azzi gets bored. Did she ever act like this before I started taking you out? Why is she suddenly so obsessed with being all over you now that she doesn’t have all of your attention?”

“Alex,” you say calmly, surprising yourself. “I am not your girlfriend.”

She laughs bitterly from the other line. “Oh, it’s like that? What, I take you on a few dates and it didn’t mean shit to you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you hiss. “You don’t have a claim over me. You’re acting like a dog trying to mark its territory. You are not the other woman. There isn’t even a woman. Ask me to be your girlfriend – or don’t – but leave Azzi out of this.”

Alex doesn’t say anything for a few beats until she scoffs. “Okay. Whatever. Have a good fucking night – I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up without a second word. You roll your eyes, huffing, dropping your phone face down on the surface of Azzi’s vanity as you continue your skincare routine.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Azzi’s voice startles you, which causes you to groan and Azzi to giggle. She murmurs an apology as she comes up behind you, resting her palms over your shoulders, her thumbs pressing into your shoulder blades pleasantly. “Everything okay?”

You shrug, sighing again as her fingers work out the knots in your back. “Alex is just being weird,” you say, grunting when her fingers dig in harder than intended at the mention of her name. Azzi whispers another apology, softening her motions.

“What’d she say?” Azzi coaxes.

You meet her eyes through the mirror, seeing nothing but concern and a willingness to help on her features. “She just…I don’t know. She said you’re ‘one day away from pissing on me like a dog trying to mark its territory.’”

Azzi’s jaw drops, pausing in disbelief for a moment until peals of giggles fall from her lips. Her amusement makes you feel a little bit better about the situation. “Gross,” she says.

“I know,” you agree. “She thinks you’re trying to get between me and her. I told her there wasn’t even a ‘me and her.’ She hasn’t asked me to be her girlfriend.”

Azzi snorts. “How’d she take that one?”

“She told me to have a good fucking night and that she’d see me tomorrow.”

“Yikes,” Azzi says.

You hum again. “Yeah. I’m not really bothered, though. Don’t really wanna deal with it right now. She thinks you’re obsessed with being all over me and that you’re possessive. I said we’re just best friends, like we’ve always been like this?” It’s then that you catch onto Azzi’s sudden silence. Concerned, you turn in your chair to look at Azzi directly. “Az? You good?”

“You know you could do better than her, right?” Azzi’s words surprise you. Your jaw falls slightly, brows drawing together in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Azzi emphasizes, “what’s so good about Alex?” She spits her name like it’s poison. “She danced with you one night at a bar and thinks that makes you exclusive. She’s jealous, possessive, and she doesn’t even try to be cordial to me, Paige, Jana, or anyone. You could do so much better than her. You know you don’t have to settle.”

“I’m not settling,” you argue, even though you know you 100% are settling because you can’t have Azzi.

Azzi gives you a knowing look, one that softens when she sees the confusion in your features, the angst, the insecurity that no matter what, the decision you’re making isn’t a good one. “I just feel like I’m losing you to her,” she admits in a whisper. “That you’re gonna choose her over me.”

“Az,” you breathe out, your heart aching. “I’d never do that. You’re not gonna lose me.”

“I feel like I already have,” Azzi says. She swallows, her eyes searching yours, and she takes a deep breath like this conversation is physically destroying her. She shifts, staring at the wall instead of you, and the way her next breath comes out in a shudder makes you feel like she’s realized something damning. “I don’t… I like being us. Before there was an Alex. And I know I don’t have a claim over you – but it feels like things are changing faster than we realize. That we’re changing and I can’t even figure out why or what’s different because you’re with Alex.”

You soften, standing to face her fully, and you cup her cheeks, pulling her attention back to you. “We aren’t changing,” you promise. “You’re still you. I’m still me. Alex won’t change that.”

“Do you even like her?” You falter, not expecting Azzi to ask you that, and your silence is all the answer she needs. “Why are you with someone you don’t even like?”

“I’m not with her,” you say weakly, but Azzi is shaking her head, pressing on.

“You don’t have to settle,” she reminds you again. “She is not your only option.”

You can’t tell if Azzi is trying to convince you or herself of that. You don’t have the courage to be honest with her, to tell her the real reason you’ve spent so long trying to make yourself believe that you truly liked Alex. So you don’t. Instead, you whisper, “Do we have to talk about this tonight?”

Azzi’s face falls slightly, but you hardly notice it, too caught up in the way your heart nearly pounds out of your chest. She nods, stepping back, and she clears her throat. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

You can recognize the look in Azzi’s face from a mile away. Softening again, you reach out, wrapping her in a tight hug, one that she immediately melts into. “Thank you,” you murmur into her neck, her skin still a little warm to the touch from her shower. She doesn’t say anything in response to that, instead tightening her arms around your waist, and exhaling deeply.

Alex asks you to be her girlfriend the night after your conversation with Azzi. She’d showed up to your apartment unprompted, bouquet in hand and an apologetic expression on her face. “I was out of line,” she’d said, sincerity in her features. “It wasn’t right of me to get upset or accuse you and Azzi of what I accused you of.” Your heart was pounding out of your chest while she explained herself, apologizing and making it right all in one, but the way your heart raced wasn’t out of anticipation. It wasn’t because you’d spent so long wishing that Alex would ask. Your pulse thrummed because of pure dread and adrenaline coursing through your veins. This wasn’t what you wanted. Not at all. You wanted Azzi – you’ve wanted nobody else but her for close to four years.

But Alex wanted you. Azzi didn’t. You needed to get over her. So, feeling as though you’re making a terrible decision you may never be able to come back from, you say, “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

For a while, things are okay. Azzi clearly isn’t happy with you and Alex now being official, but your friendship stays the same. You try to split your time between the two of them, not wanting to feel as though you have to make a choice between your best friend and your girlfriend, and for the first month that you and Alex are together, it works well enough.

At least it does until Alex decides that it’s not enough.

It’s a Friday night, and you’re supposed to go over to Paige’s dorm to hang out with her and the rest of the team. They’d had a nailbiter game on Thursday and between practices and exams, you all just wanted to take the time to spend together and relax. KK was supposed to be bringing her Switch and you were looking forward to beating Paige’s smug ass at Mario Kart.

“You’re seriously going out?” Alex says from her bed, where she’s been watching you touch up your make-up in the mirror.

You resist an eye roll, not really wanting to argue, so calmly, you explain, “I’m just going to Paige’s to hang out with the team.”

“Feels like you never want to make time with me anymore,” Alex complains. You don’t respond to that, focusing on your mascara, until she speaks up again. “Is Azzi gonna be there?”

Your hand falters, smudging against your cheekbone, and you sigh in frustration as you dig through your clutch for a makeup wipe. “She’s on the team, so yes, Azzi will be there.”

“You do know you’re not with her, right?” That makes you stop moving completely, sliding the wand into the applicator. You turn to meet Alex’s gaze, who seems proud at having elicited a reaction.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not with Azzi,” Alex repeats, as if you needed a reminder. That’s the reason why you’re in this fucked up mess anyways, trying to make yourself like someone who’s not actually the woman you love. “So why do you keep running back to her at the end of the day? You’ve been friends for, what, four years now? If she wanted you, don’t you think she would have done something about it by now?” Despite the anger bubbling in your chest, embarrassment also blooms on your cheeks. “I want you. She doesn’t. Stop chasing her and running away from me – it’s not going to change anything.”

For that, you have no true response, your heart racing. You just feel trapped now. This isn’t what you wanted at all, but you feel like you’re too far in to quit now. “Stay in with me,” Alex states. It’s not a plea, not a request. It’s a demand – and for a moment, you think maybe she’s right. You’re still her girlfriend. You have to spend time with her. 

You text Paige, letting her know that you can’t make it tonight. Her response is swift, an over dramatic series of crying emojis followed up by a message that makes your heart constrict – “Az was lookin forward to this all week, she’s gonna crash out lol.” You don’t really know what else to say, so you just send Paige another apology before powering your phone off, knowing that as soon as Azzi finds out, you’re going to be the first person she calls.

You and Alex curl up on her couch, browsing through Hulu for a show to watch. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders feels wrong. It’s too stifling, too possessive. It’s nothing like the way Azzi would wrap her arm around you – making you feel safe and grounded all at once. Alex is nothing like Azzi and in the beginning, you thought that was just what you needed to let go of Azzi. Now, it feels like giving up Azzi feels like giving up a part of yourself.

Another month passes by in a blur of daily disappearances, shitty excuses, and daydreams of soft brown eyes and a dimpled smile. Anytime you’d try to make plans with Azzi or her teammates, Alex would remind you of all the reasons why you shouldn’t. You’re with me – not them. Why did you pursue me if you were just going to discard me? And at a certain point in time, the edges start getting blurry. You can’t even remember if you’d truly made those promises to Alex in the first place.

Azzi tried to reach out a few times, but Alex’s watchful eye had creeped into every facet of your life. She was there to pick you up from your practices. There wasn’t a single plan you’d made that she hadn’t carefully looked over and approved – most of them she invited herself along for, just to make sure you wouldn’t stray too far away. Weeks passed and you couldn’t remember the last time you had a life to yourself that wasn’t corrupted by every inch of the woman you’d danced with at the bar.

Escaping feels too difficult. Lately, it feels as though Alex knows more about you than you know about yourself. She strings you along just to yank the chain, leaving you unmoored and choking around a collar you were sure you’d fastened yourself. She’s devoted and loving one moment, cold and apathetic the next when she feels as though you hadn’t done enough to earn her affection. She’s attached at your hip for one week, then leaves you drowning the next when she suddenly ghosts, leaving you wondering if you’d truly had a girlfriend at all.

The irony isn’t lost on you. Alex had accused you of stringing her along for the ride to get over Azzi, and now here she is. You don’t think she’s trying to use you to get over someone, but perhaps she’s punishing you for the way you’d chosen Azzi at every opportunity at the beginning of your relationship. You’re doing the time now, you suppose, although every morning you wonder if and when your sentence would end; you hope that Alex would grow tired of you one day and finally dispose of you. You weren’t sure if you had the confidence to drag yourself out of this mess despite how easily you threw yourself into it.

“You know Azzi’s like, in love with you, right?” Alex asks you one day. You’re sitting at the table, poking at your chicken and spinach mindlessly. Your girlfriend sits across from you, arms crossed and plate clean. Her words make you falter, your fork stilling, and you don’t glance up, not wanting to confront the expression on her face. “I recognized it the first night at the bar. She was all over you while you were dancing, holding you like she owned you. When she went to dance with someone else, it was a complete shift – she didn’t even want that other girl. Just you.”

At that, you glance up finally, searching Alex’s eyes. They’re cold, nothing like the Azzi’s warm brown that you’d spent years memorizing the exact hue of. “What are you trying to say?” you ask, because you truly don’t understand her point. Doesn’t she understand that she’s won? That she’s broken you down, separated you from your friends, that she’s interwoven herself into the very fabric of your life? What else could you have for her to take?

Alex shrugs, a picture of nonchalance, but you see the tension in her shoulders anyways. “I just want you to know why I’m doing this,” she says, which makes a cold feeling course through your veins. “I don’t want to be the bad guy. You know that, right? I just want to protect you, from someone who wants to take you from me. Azzi couldn’t take care of you like I could. She always had this agenda from the very first night we met. Do you understand that?”

Your fingers are trembling around your fork. “Alex,” you whisper, drawing her attention to you. Her head cocks like you’re a wounded animal on the side of the road and she’s studying you to determine if she should leave you – or at the very least, move you out of harm’s way. You know her, though. She’s the type of person to keep on driving. “I’m tired. Can we not do this right now?”

Her lips curl into a smug, self-satisfied smile, because she knows. She knows she’s elicited a reaction, even if it’s not as obvious. She knows that she’s won this round. She stands, leaving her plate behind, and she looms behind you as her hand trails across your shoulders. Then, she leans in, planting the barest of kisses to your temple that makes your body tighten with barely concealed fear and dread. “I’m just trying to look out for you,” she whispers, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “One day you’ll understand what I’ve done for you.”

She leaves and it’s only then that you allow your body to relax. Exhaling deeply, you bury your head in your hands, feeling tears of anguish and frustration building at your waterline. Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You don’t need to look at it to know who it is. Azzi has been trying to reach you for a while. She hasn’t given up, but you haven’t had the energy to text her back, to tell her about what’s going on. Now, you think you might have to take that chance.

That night, while Alex snores unknowingly next to you, you collect your bag and all of the clothes stored in her drawers. With quiet footsteps, you exit her apartment, already reaching for your phone with trembling fingers as you dial the one number you know will pick up at any time. It barely rings once before the line clicks through.

Azzi’s greeting is a murmur of your name, both in disbelief and ever present relief. “Azzi,” you say back, your voice barely reaching her. “Please come pick me up.”

“Do you want water? Juice?”

Azzi’s voice cuts through the haze in your brain. When she picked you up, neither of you had said anything, but you’d hugged her tight enough that she groaned a little, which made you smile for what feels like the first time in forever. She let you into her apartment wordlessly, took your bag to her room, and sat you down on the couch.

“I’m okay,” you say. All you really wanted was to feel comfortable in your own skin again, but being in Azzi’s presence is doing wonders for you. You can’t help but feel a bit of residual guilt – all of this could have been avoided had you been braver, if you’d denied Alex from the start or if you could just muster the courage to tell Azzi that you’ve been in love with her for four years. “Can we just…can we go to bed?”

Azzi nods quickly, murmuring an affirmative, and she links her hand with yours as she leads you down the familiar hallways. It shouldn’t bring you as much peace as it does, but holding Azzi’s hand makes you feel like you’re a sailor coming home after a long voyage and finally spotting the lighthouse in the distance. Azzi’s bed is a welcome comfort and you fall into place next to her, feeling the tension melt out of your shoulders.

You can feel her next to you, the warmth of her body, the smell of her perfume in the air, and you feel your heart ache all over again. This was where you were supposed to be. Not with Alex. Even if you and Azzi remained friends forever and you kept your feelings for her close to your chest, it would still be better than going through these past few weeks with Alex on repeat.

“I missed you,” Azzi admits, her voice cutting through the darkness in the room. She shifts. You can feel her eyes on you, so you shift, too, coming face to face with her.

“I missed you too,” you whisper, watching as a soft smile spreads across her face. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

You swallow thickly. “For everything. For Alex. For leaving you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Azzi promises. Hearing those words is like coming up for air after being submerged for so long. You don’t know if she knows just how healing it was to hear her say that. Her hand finds yours, squeezing you gently. “I’m sorry for not doing more to help you.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shoot back, a coy smile on your face, which makes Azzi giggle.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Azzi murmurs.

You think that you should – that you owe it to yourself and to Azzi to be honest about the last few months. So you do. Azzi listens to you as you start from the beginning, outlining the course of your and Alex’s relationship and where it derailed. When you finish, Azzi’s face is full of concern, sadness, and a slight determination. She’d apologized again. You told her it was okay, mostly because it was okay. You would be okay.

“Do you love her?” Azzi asks a few beats later, perhaps a bit selfishly. 

“No,” you confess, feeling Azzi relax against you. “I never did.” She nods, and you both fall silent for a moment until you speak up again. “Az?” She hums, her fingers brushing against your skin. “If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth? Alex said something earlier and I’m…I’m just tired of feeling like I’m crazy.”

“Anything,” she promises. 

“Do you love me?” The words come out less composed than you’d been trying for, your voice cracking at the end, but you don’t really care. You need answers. You’d spent so many years loving Azzi from afar, but for Alex to say she’s confident in Azzi loving you back? This could change everything.

“Of course I do,” Azzi says, her words a little jilted. “You’re my best friend.”

You feel your heart drop, but you press forward. “Not in that way, Az.”

You can hear her breath hitch. At first, you’re not sure if you’re going to get a response, but she tightens her grip on your waist, and admits, “Yeah. I love you.”

Silence encompasses the both of you. Azzi doesn’t push – she never does, and that might be one of the things you love most about her. She lets you process that revelation on your own. At first, a part of you wonders if it was truly that easy in the first place, if all you ever needed to do was ask Azzi. The fear of her saying anything but yes outweighed the hope. Now that you’ve heard it, you can’t deny how much lighter your chest feels, the hope that swells in your chest. “Say it again,” you request.

“I love you,” Azzi swears, her voice a little firmer this time, her hands holding onto you like she’s afraid you’re going to disappear completely. “I love you. I have for years. Seeing you with Alex almost destroyed me.”

Feeling a little braver, you sit up, moving your legs to straddle her waist. There’s nothing inherently sexual about it, but the sheer closeness makes you feel a little more grounded, especially when her hands steady you by the hips. “I’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

“Don’t be,” Azzi murmurs, her thumb brushing against your hip bone.

“I was only with her because I thought I could get over you,” you confess, which makes her jaw relax, her face soften. “God, Az, I’ve been in love with you forever. I didn’t think I could have you.”

Despite the heaviness of the moment, Azzi’s lips quirk into a fond, relieved smile. Her hands leave your hips, fingers brushing your arms as she trails them up. She hooks a finger into the collar of your shirt, pulling you down to her as she whispers, “You have me. Completely.”

You’re not thinking about the consequences as you finally kiss Azzi Fudd – you’re not concerned about the fact that technically, you have a girlfriend that you’re technically cheating on, nor are you concerned about what this means for you and Azzi. The logistics are a problem for you tomorrow. Azzi sighs against you, her lips insistent, fingers tangling in your shirt – and to be honest, it’s a pleasant paradox. Alex is a taker in every definition of the word, but Azzi swallows each little sound you make against her lips, pressing firmer against you to take everything you’ll give her, but there’s a bit of mutualism in the way you and Azzi simultaneously take and give.

One of her hands releases your shirt to cup your cheek, her palm warm against your skin as it rapidly heats. You’re both passionate, a little desperate, but despite it all, the love between the two of you is palpable – you can feel it in your heart and the way it swells; it courses through your veins, leading you home, reminding you that this is a love you’ve spent years harboring and cultivating. 

People always say your first kiss with someone you love is a little earth-shattering, that it’s like fireworks or coming home. To you, this kiss with Azzi feels something like freedom. It feels like you don’t have to keep any more secrets from her or yourself.

Azzi breaks away, her chest heaving and her breath warm against your lips. “I love you,” she whispers again, holding you tighter, insistent. “Leave her. Please.”

You’re nodding before Azzi has even finished her plea. “I will,” you swear, kissing her again. You grin when Azzi chases you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before a soft smile spreads across her features. “I love you.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything in response to that – she doesn’t have to. She presses a kiss to your temple and you stretch out across her body, her arms wrapping around you once more. You fall asleep next to her feeling free and at peace – you’re not quite out of the woods yet, but you’re almost there, and you have more moments like these to look forward to with Azzi.

She has an early practice that next morning, so she’s gone before you’re awake, but you know what you need to do. You walk the short distance to your apartment, make yourself a coffee to mentally prepare, and you send a quick text to Alex – ignoring the fifteen unread messages she’s sent between the hours of 2am to 7am – telling her to come to your apartment so you can talk. You don’t wait around for a response. You get a trash bag and start collecting all of the shit she’s left at your apartment during the time you were together – clothes, toiletries, a lone coffee mug (that you’re sure shatters once you drop it into the bag, but you don’t really care).

All of Alex’s belongings are secured in the trash bag when there’s a knock at your door. You take a deep breath to calm yourself, dragging the bag behind you as you step up to your door. You open it halfway, raising a hand and making an annoyed noise when Alex tries to walk in. “No,” you say firmly, “stay outside.”

A look of annoyance flashes across her face, but she does as you’ve commanded, crossing her arms. You reach for the bag, throwing it haphazardly behind her. “So, here’s what’s happening,” you begin. “We’re breaking up.” She opens her mouth to say something, but you cut her off with a raised hand again. “I don’t really care what you have to say. We’re done. This is all you’re getting from me. Lose my number and get fucked.”

Unceremoniously, you slam the door in her face, locking it immediately. You bury your head in your hands as your pulse pounds against your ribcage, but as you listen to the sound of her footsteps fading away, that familiar feeling of freedom returns tenfold. You could cry with relief, although you don’t, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You’re free now, and you know who your first call will be to.

Azzi picks up on the first ring, sounding a little out of breath as she greets you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you respond, feeling the smile creep up onto your lips – you’re sure she can hear the excitement and the relief in your voice.

And she does. She laughs a little, sounding relieved, too. “I’m on my way,” is all she says, bidding you one last goodbye before she hangs up.

You can’t get rid of your smile, and thankfully, she only keeps you waiting for about fifteen minutes. She opens your door with her key and walks in like she’s been here hundreds of times before – which she has, because there’s no part of your life that is complete without Azzi in it. She spots you immediately. You stand up from the couch, dropping your phone on the cushion, and you meet her in the middle.

Azzi is a little sweaty, disheveled from practice, but you don’t care as her arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush into her with pure relief in her laughter. You wrap yours around her neck, standing on the tips of your toes to reach her. You kiss her, something softer than the first one you’d shared the night prior. You feel her smile against your lips, which only makes you smile, too, your noses brushing against each other as you both share a breathless little laugh. She tightens her grip around you and you can’t find it in yourself to mind – you know that Azzi is always going to be there to protect you, and finally being hers after all these years is something you know that you’re not going to screw up – you did your time.

[imreidswifey]

request!

fem!reader who's just so so enamoured with how pretty Spencer is and she often just stares at him for long periods of time (not in a weird creepy way, like she zones out and doesn't realize how long she's staring). Spencer notices when she does this and he gets all flustered every time. like to the point where he can't focus on whatever he's doing. Then when they're alone Spencer let's her just look at him and like, trace his facial features and stuff? like they're having a conversation on the couch and r is just tracing Spencer's jawline or the bridge of his nose with her fingers?

apologies if this isn't a very good idea, if i was dating Spencer I'd be doing this all the time!! he's so pretty omg.

-🪲

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: AHHHH THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVERR!! Im actually so happy y'all dont understand 🤭 thank you so much 🪲! This req was literally perfect and was a dream to writee i actually like love u so much and I hope I did what you wanted with this prompt!!

———

Spencer Reid had the kind of beauty that made my heart ache.

Not in a fleeting, superficial way—but in a way that settled deep in my bones, in a way that made everything else in the world seem dull in comparison. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly stunning he was.

I didn’t think he realized it, which only made it worse.

It was everything—the soft, golden curls that always seemed to fall perfectly into place no matter how often he raked a hand through them. The sharp lines of his cheekbones, the way they caught the light when he turned his head just so. His hazel eyes, warm and thoughtful, always filled with something unreadable yet captivating.

I was enamored. Absolutely, irreversibly enamored.

And I had a habit.

A terrible, unbreakable habit.

I stared at Spencer Reid. A lot.

Not in a creepy, overbearing way—I didn’t gawk or leer. It wasn’t intentional, either. I just… got lost in him sometimes.

It happened when he was deep in thought, tapping his fingers against his chin while reading some obscure book that no one else in the team could decipher. Or when he was talking, completely oblivious to how mesmerizing he looked while explaining quantum physics or behavioral patterns.

It was never on purpose.

But Spencer noticed.

Every single time.

———

I was supposed to be working.

I really was.

But Spencer was sitting across from me, brow furrowed in concentration as he flipped through a case file. His glasses—those damn glasses—were perched on the bridge of his nose, the thin gold frame complementing the warm undertones of his skin.

I was done for.

I didn’t realize how long I’d been staring until Spencer suddenly stopped moving.

I blinked, snapping back to reality. His hazel eyes met mine, slightly wide, as if I’d caught him off guard—though, in reality, he had caught me.

Again.

The air between us shifted, crackling with something unspoken. Spencer’s fingers twitched against the pages of his file, but he didn’t turn away.

Instead, his blush started to rise.

I knew the pattern by now—the way it crept up his neck, painting his cheeks a soft, rosy hue. The way his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite form the words.

I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “Spence?”

He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact far too quickly.

“You’re—uh—” He gestured vaguely, struggling. “You’re doing it again.”

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Doing what?”

His jaw clenched slightly, and he let out a breath through his nose.

“You know what.”

A small laugh escaped me.

Before I could tease him further, Hotch’s voice cut through the moment.

“You two.”

I jumped, realizing that everyone was staring at us. Emily raised a knowing brow, JJ bit back a smirk, and Derek—of course—was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

Spencer, on the other hand, looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“We’re moving forward with the profile,” Hotch continued, eyes narrowing slightly. “Unless, of course, you’re both too… distracted.”

Spencer made a noise in his throat—something between a cough and a strangled squeak—and immediately buried himself in his notes.

I felt the warmth of amusement bloom in my chest.

I really needed to get better at hiding my staring.

———

It wasn’t until later that night that I got the chance to properly admire Spencer without the weight of an audience.

The two of us were curled up on my couch, the soft glow of my reading lamp casting a golden hue over everything. A book lay open in his lap—something about classical philosophy—but neither of us were really focused on it.

Spencer was talking, his voice low and soothing as he explained something about Socratic irony. I was listening—really, I was—but my hands had a mind of their own.

Without thinking, I reached out, my fingertips ghosting over the sharp line of his jaw.

Spencer inhaled sharply, his words cutting off mid-sentence.

His gaze snapped to mine, hazel eyes wide and unreadable.

I didn’t stop.

I traced the curve of his cheekbone, my touch feather-light, barely there. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, and I could feel the way his jaw tensed slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether to lean into my touch or pull away.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he swallowed, throat bobbing slightly.

“You—” His voice was barely a whisper. “You do this a lot.”

I smiled, letting my fingers trail along the bridge of his nose, then down to the corner of his lips.

“I know.”

Spencer’s breath hitched.

His hands clenched slightly against his lap, as if he was holding himself back. His blush deepened, spreading across his cheeks like wildfire.

I leaned in slightly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want me to stop?”

For a moment, I thought he might say yes.

But then—slowly, hesitantly—he exhaled and shook his head.

“No,” he murmured.

That was all the permission I needed.

I took my time, memorizing him the way I always wanted to. My fingers traced the sharp planes of his face, following the path of freckles that dusted his nose. He stayed perfectly still, his breath uneven, his lips parting slightly at my touch.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, his lashes fluttering against his cheek. When he opened them again, there was something raw in his gaze—something vulnerable and breathtaking.

“You really think that?” he asked softly.

I let my thumb brush against his cheek.

“I know that.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, his hands finally moving. One of them lifted, hesitating before resting over mine. He held it there, pressing my palm against his cheek, as if grounding himself in the moment.

And then, in the softest voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “I like it when you look at me.”

My heart clenched.

I smiled, leaning in just a little closer. “Good.”

Because I wasn’t going to stop.

Not now. Not ever.

———

Spencer Reid didn’t need words to be poetry.

He was poetry in the way he blushed, in the way he stammered when I caught him off guard. He was poetry in the way he let me trace my fingers over his skin, in the way he closed his eyes and melted into my touch.

He was poetry in the way he let me look at him.

And I never wanted to stop reading.

———

Tyy 🪲 for requesting this!!!

[lovebyhyun]

surprise

genre: fluff, established relationship, hyunjin x gn!reader

synopsis: you thought your boyfriends absence will ruin your whole birthday party, little do you know there is an unexpected guest on his way there.

warnings: mentions of drinking and crying

a/n: hi!!! this is my first time ever publishing something on tumblr so please be nice to me :( im very scared but lets go!

masterlist

This was supposed to be a fun evening. All of your friends, birthday cake, music, overall fun. Yet, everything was ruined by a single message from your beloved boyfriend, who said that he won’t be able to make it. You knew weeks ahead of the party, yes, but it still stung.

You tried to have fun, took shots with your friends, danced to music, but nothing felt as good as it would if Hyunjin was right by your side.

Maybe you were a little dramatic, but you just wanted him to be there. All of your worries were gone the moment he was next to you, he made you happy. What were you supposed to do once you were without him? That thought actually never crossed your mind. It didn’t have to, since you and Hyunjin were basically one person at this point.

So there you were, in your own bathroom, tears staining your cheeks at your own birthday party. It was not so fun after all. You calmed down a little bit, composing yourself to get back to your guests, trying to make yourself look more stable than you actually were.

Immediately after stepping back into your garden where the party was happening, you notice people giggling and whispering. The music stopped and everything went quiet. Just as you thought that this day couldn’t get any worse and that your friends hate you, a fmailiar beat started playing. “So good” by your own boyfriend. You turn around and you freeze.

A huge jiniret mascot enters your view and you try to figure out what the fuck is going on. The huge ferret starts dancing and moving around to the music, not missing a single beat. All of his moves, the way he flawlessly swayed to the rhytm, it all looked too familair for it to be a random person under the costume.

You start to relax, a ton of tension leaving your body just enough for you to enjoy your party again.

The pathetic performance ended and the crowd made out of your friends erupted into cheer and applause. You were still in a bit of shock, but you lived jiniret so much, you just couldn’t resist running up to him and hugging him tightly with a huge grin on your face.

You pull back from the hug only to look up at the animal’s huge eyes staring down at you like you’re an artwork which belongs in a museum. At this point, you knew who was hinding under that stupidly cute costume.

“I love you” You whisper, loud enough just for him to hear.

In that moment, it felt like it was only the two of you, and it was more than enough to make you feel like the luckiest in the world.

Because you were.

[imnotlostimlooking]

I hate the Eddie story line that's happening. Like I hate that they are putting him through all this bullshit over a mistake that he made because of years of trauma. And i hate reading stories where people make it out like he was cheating on Marisol. Maybe he wasn't great for sneaking around with another woman but if you really look at it? Nothing remotely romantic or sexual was going on. Eddie saw this woman who was a clone of his dead wife and latched onto her because of this, as if she could somehow solve all the answers he'd never gotten even tho he logically knew she couldn't. They spent a lot of time together and maybe some of the things they did seemed romantic but he was always detached with her.

Its never said in the show but this man was raised (using the term loosely) by a Mexican father in an extremely catholic household and so I'm betting all my money on the fact that when his girlfriend got pregnant at 19 it wasn't HIS choice to get married. Even if he was the one to suggest it, it would have been because it was 'the right thing to do'. He was a baby. Having a baby.

He joined the army and came back with ptsd up the whazoo to parents who were raising his child like he was their own, giving him the love they'd never given Eddie, and a wife who resented him. His wife left him with a child he didn't know how to care for and parents who wanted to take Christopher away from him because he worked 3 jobs to get on his feet.

This man moved to LA and yeah he found the 118 and a family but his life revolved around work and Christopher and 'finding him a mother' which he canonically said. It never even seemed as though he wanted to be dating when he was with those women, more perfunctory than anything, even tho he didn't realize it.

And then he meets this woman who looks just like his dead wife who left him and came back and divorced him and died and she storms his fucking castle in cosplay and forces him to open up when he's clearly uncomfortable with it and his child walks in.

And yeah, it's fucking terrible. Like the worst. Oh my god poor Christopher seeing that. Poor Marisol thinking he's been cheating on her this whole time. But also. Poor fucking Eddie. Poor fucking Eddie because he didn't ask that fucking woman to show up at his goddamn house. He didn't ask her to dress like his dead fuxking wife and try and fix all his trauma. Yeah what he did wasn't right, but he cut shit off and that should have been that. He didn't ask to be fixed and he certainly didn't ask for whatever the hell rhat was.

And then his child calls his grandparents to come get him which is fair cause he's a child right? Kids do things like that. But they come and take him without even a call to Eddie. Their son. Who they are supposed to love and cherish. They don't ask what happened. They don't ask if he's okay. They just place blame and steal his child and Eddie let's them because Eddie has trauma and he 'knows' he's never been good enough for his kid and this is just the nail in the coffin so he should let him go right? And they fuxking take him.

But now? Like moving to Texas? Go get your fucking child and bring him home. He's a child. He does not make the fucking decisions. It should not even have lasted that long that he was in el Paso in the first place. Why is no one telling him that he's the fucking parent in this situation. Why is no one telling him rhat he's good enough. That he's an amazing father. That his parents are manipulating his trauma. That yeah maybe he fucked up but he didn't do anything actually WRONG.

And im reading all this fics where he is groveling and saying or being accused of cheating and im like wtf. Disgusting. I hate it. Let him be fucking A+ parent dad Eddie again cause I'm tired of this shit. Go to his parents house. Tell them to fuxk all the way off. Tell your kid to pack his shit he can be mad in LA in therapy.

[haithhegimp]

in my heart of hearts, they are all Real robins (honourable mentions!)

WHOOF alright ranting and robin list under the cut!

these are a whooole buncha robins pulled from DC database robin disambiguation (which i cant link properly for somefuck reason, just look DC database robin disambiguation to get the page im talking about), that i sorted through with some criteria

have to be called robin- robin adjascent characters who are not called robin are not counted (but im making an honourable mentions thing of them)

they have to be a hero/vigilante/crime-fighter/something like that (did i ignore this rule to add cassandra? yes i did but screw you, its cass)

if i have one robin with a certain name, then i won't include AU versions of that robin (eg i didnt include any of the AU dick graysons)

the rule above does not apply if they are just named robin

they have to be in a comic- doesn't matter if theyre from a comic, as long as they're in one (did i make this rule because of matt mcginnis? yes, yes i did.)

i only double checked some of them so there are almost definitely robins that should be in the honourable mentions thing i will be making, but snuck in here. i dont care because i love them (side eyes bruce clone robin and grits teeth) like them all.

i did not order or organize them (other than dick, jason, and lance being the first three) because that would actually fucking kill me, so you can make a game of finding which robins are which! here is a list of them all, also not in order or by who is who because again that would kill me. please find them on dc database if youre interested. a lot of them are very fun characters.

dick grayson

lance bruner

jason todd

tim drake

carie kelley

stephanie brown

damian wayne

duke thomas

bruce wayne

helena wayne

christopher ward

francisco ramirez

robinbot

robintron

lance hart

anita jean

john grayson

talia kane

robzarro

barbara gordon (earth 37)

bruce wayne junior (earth 38)

clark wayne (earth 38)

cassandra (earth 118)

billy batson (the batman who laughs)

robin king (dark multiverse / king of pain)

matt(hew) mcginnis

drake winston

ricky (robin 3000)

tris plover (legends of the dead earth)

dexter dent

gan (elseworlds / beyond the white knight)

thomas wayne (elseworlds / robin 3000)

robert chang (digital justice)

marya (elseworlds / batman: i, joker)

daxton chill (we are robin)

isabella ortiz (we are robin)

dre cipriani (we are robin)

riko sheridan (we are robin)

fam im not going to lie all the we are robin kids were supposed to be in honourable mentions but i miscalculated how many robins were there when making my base and needed some more folks. i was making duke an exception anyways (because DUKE) so i just stretched that a little to be all the we are robin kids

robin (just imagine)

robin (earth 43)

robin ii (dark multiverse / crisis on infinite earths)

robin (possible futures / futures end)

robin (possible futures / batman: year 100)

robin (possible futures / dc one million)

robin (dc love is a battlefield)

that is!!! all of them in the drawing, i believe! (let me know if i missed any lol) i physically cannot tag them all because there are more than 30 of them and 30 tags is the limit, so ill be tagging the mainstream ones and just "robin"!

if youre curious why this all happened, its all because of lance. i gave that motherfucker PITY FANART but then the neurodivergence kicked in and i got attatched, and then i was scrolling through the robin disambiguation page and i just felt so so sad because do any of these robins have fanart!? does anyone ever draw them!?!? how can i give lance pity fanart when hes not even a real robin (i love you lance) and then Not draw all these robins!?!?!? so yeah i drew them. i still feel bad because i couldnt draw ALL of them but like i had to give myself a limit because im genuinely sorry but im NOT drawing dick grayson (earth-one), dick grayson (earth-two), dick grayson (new-earth), and dick grayson (prime-earth) because those are all of his versions from MAINSTREAM. not even alternate universes he has that many versions in MAINSTREAM. i would actually go into a fucking coma if i chose to draw ALL the robins.

[michaelbluthsdeadwife]

Modern romance (pt.1)

————————————————————————————————————

Summary: Hamzah x reader through instagram posts and stories! Not sure what these are called but I love them

Warnings: fem!reader, use of (y/n), the pictures I used for reader have brown hair so im sorry, a lot of slang i guess

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers

A/n: literally no one asked for this but let me know if you guys like this type of stuff! I decided to make it two parts since it’s already so much

————————————————————————————————————

————————————————————————————————————

Posted by yn_yln

Liked by hamzahthefantastic, wes10, and 1,392,028 others.

“life recently (i dont like these guys)”

Comments

User82: since when is she friends with slushynoobz???

User92: I dont know but im jumping with joy rn

Hamzahthefantastic: that’s rude of you…

Yn_yln: you weren’t supposed to see this.. awkward

Thatmartinkid: i guess she actually IS like the other girls :/

User58: LMAO

Thatmartinkid: why did you post a stalker photo of us?

Yn_yln: bro i was behind you.. i still am! Mwahahah

Hamzahthefantastic: wtf?!??? Where??

Yn_yln: you wont find me.

User59: im scared

Mandys_iphone: hes been paranoid all day since you posted

Yn_yln: good.

User69: Are they dating?

User56: girl people can be friends

User583: I think so actually

Posted by thatmartinkid

Liked by yn_yln, mandys_iphone, and 1,483,953 others.

“We made friends with a homeless woman!”

Comments

Yn_yln: um???

Thatmartinkid: what?

Yn_yln: homeless???

Thatmartinkid: are you not?

Hamzahthefantastic: no she is dw

Yn_yln: hamzah this is an a b conversation so please c yourself out

Hamzahthefantastic: please never say shit like that around me ever again

Hamzahthefantastic: friend is a strong word

Yn_yln: sooo what are we?

Thatmartinkid: good luck dude…

User582: LMAO MARTIN

Clairedrakee: homeless? Girl have you seen this woman? Shes etheral

Yn_yln: AWW

Clairedrakee: its true and i know his stanky ass is not talking

Mandys_iphone: he does smell actually

Thatmartinkid: do I actually?

Yn_yln: the silence speaks volumes…

User484: is anyone else kinda annoyed that they’re hanging out with ppl like her?

User272: Ik :( i feel like they’re too mainstream now

User53: sybau.

Posted by mandys_iphone

Liked by thatmartinkid, clairedrakee, and 492,673 others.

“We took our kids on vacation”

Comments

Yn_yln: ily mommy

Hamzahthefantastic: bro what

Mandys_iphone: love you too ❤️

Thatmartinkid: this is making me uncomfortable..

User592: MOMMY IS CRAZY

Hamzahthefantastic: what is she even writing

Yn_yln: Some of us are in college…

Hamzahthefantastic: yet your still dumb

Yn_yln: *you’re…

Thatmartinkid: oh she clocked

User79: zest fest

Chase_rutherford: martin is so chopped in that!

Hamzahthefantastic: true

Thatmartinkid: oh who is you, chopped chin

Yn_yln: you got him there

Hamzahthefantastic: but that is not a crime

Yn_yln: how did you know what I was quoting?

Hamzahthefantastic: because you wont stop saying it

Yn_yln: and THAT is not a crime❤️

User16: why are they SO close in that pick?

User629: obv dating or something

User49: I will be so mad if they are

Posted by yn_yln

Liked by tarayummyy, hamzahthefantastic, and 1,693,572 others.

“Island living sims 4 expansion pack”

Comments

Mandys_iphone: caption is so us

Yn_yln: Right???

Hamzahthefantastic: you did not.

Yn_yln: what?

Hamzahthefantastic: the SLEEPING PHOTO?

Yn_yln: i will not apologize for disillusioning the people to your true form.

Hamzahthefantastic: dude youre such a dork 😭

User692: and that is not a crime

Yn_yln: @user692 YES 🙌🏻

Thatmartinkid: You caught me! Yes, i love to read 😂🤪

Yn_yln: I will genuinely block you

Hamzahthefantastic: our side quest for coffee

Yn_yln: then we literally got lost

Hamzahthefantastic: because of you..

Yn_yln: dont sass me boy

Mandys_iphone: whos mommy now?

Clairedrakee: yess girl walk him like a dog!

User04: there is no way they arent tg atp

User73: idk i still don’t believe it, they could just be a close group?

Kalynnkoury: I like your shell

Yn_yln: I like your face

Posted by thatmartinkid

Liked by yn_yln, chase_rutherford, and 1,685,373 others.

“Sorry pets, vacation mode activated!”

Comments

Yn_yln: you’re so millennial mom coded

Thatmartinkid: thanks!

Chase_rutherford: not a compliment

Mandys_iphone: what is hamzah looking off into the distance mysteriously at?

Hamzahthefantastic: y/n did a backflip

Yn_yln: no i didnt???

Hamzahthefantastic: yes you did

Yn_yln: why are you gaslighting me?

Thatmartinkid: men…😒

Yn_yln: i fear the call is coming from inside the house

Hamzahthefantastic: had the worst time thanks

Yn_yln: aren’t you just a bundle of joy?!

Thatmartinkid: okay next time we won’t take you guys then

Yn_yln: WHAT DID I DO?

Posted by yn_yln

Liked by hamzahthefantastic, clairedrakee, and 1,474,443 others.

“Finally home ❤️ (wifed mandy up bc martin wont)”

Comments

Clairedrakee: me and my man!

Yn_yln: You can do better babe

Clairedrakee: are you flirting with me?

Hamzahthefantastic: no

User538: HAMZAH?

User58: suspicious..

Hamzahthefantastic: whos the cutie in the second slide?

Yn_yln: there isn’t one

Thatmartinkid: OOO…

Hamzahthefantastic: you hate me

Yn_yln: NO IM SORRY LMAO

Mandys_iphone: save the date!

Thatmartinkid: is this true..?

Yn_yln: sorry you took too long

Thatmartinkid: hamzah lets get out of here…

Yn_yln: you moved on quickly

User529: who is the man in all of these?

User3: I think maybe hamzah?

User5: Are they dating?

User82: yeah they are

User5: source?

User82: I dont have one

User538: they are laying awfully close😭

User219: so unfair

Posted by Clairedrakee

Liked by thatmartinkid, yn_yln, and 1,583,492 others.

“Girls night ayyye!”

Comments

Mandys_iphone: we all kissed

Yn_yln: this is true

Hamzahthefantastic: you guys are weird

Clairedrakee: someone’s jealous!

Thatmartinkid: mandy i dont like you hanging around with bad influences..

Yn_yln: I love you both ❤️❤️❤️

Clairedrakee: love you too!!

Mandys_iphone: aww I love you too

Hamzahthefantastic: do you guys remember texting me?

Clairedrakee: no?

Yn_yln: what did we say😭

Hamzahthefantastic: nothing 😉

Thatmartinkid: I don’t like that wink it did something to me

User264: I wanna be friends with them

Posted by hamzahthefantastic

Liked by yn_yln, thatmartinkid, and 1,375,685 others.

Comments

Thatmartinkid: woahh who sent you that text? 😳

Hamzahthefantastic: 🤷🏽‍♂️

Clairedrakee: i have a hypothesis

Yn_yln: HAMZAH OMG.

Hamzahthefantastic: what

Yn_yln: die.

User4655: oh hes in the doghouse

User633: this is undeniable proof bro

User364: i think they did it but i just cant prove it 🧐

[jaychrilo1144]

Ramble post 19373729

Topic- being trans/queer in the marauders fandom

There is so much hate going on, especially on tiktok and instagram rn. From my experience we're reletively alright here on tumblr but it still needs to be adressed.

The marauders fandom is for those who are pushed to the side. That goes for poc, ppl of the lgbt community, or anyone of a marginalized community.

We saw the hate from the creator of this world, took that, and turned this world into an inclusive space for character fan cannons/fics to roll with and made sure that fans felt like they had a safe space to go.

After all, James Potter-and parents- are known for "picking up the strays". The marauders themselves symbolize Found Family along with the skittles and The Golden Trio. Finding a space and the people in that space who will love you for being yourself regardless of the people who didnt (especially those who didnt and were supposed to).

I have found safety expressing my Sexuality here. I looked at some of the characters like remus and luna be so loved by their friends regardless of who they are, what they're interests are, and how they act, and realized that I deserve to have people around me who will accept me for me. That I am not too much. That I am enough. That I am deserving of everything good I want for my life. And because of the safety and love I have felt here, I only saw it fit to pour back into it because thats what we do for each other here.

No we dont all agree on things. Everyone has their own ships, their own headcannons, and thats okay. We can agree to disagree on things like this, and at the end of the day we will always have eachothers backs because we know what it is to be thrown to the side and no one should have fo feel like that.

Right now, I am seeing an obscene amount of transphobia, racism, and homophobia in the Harry Potter/ Marauders community, and it's devastating. People are being publically dead named right now because of headcannon disagreements. What the actual fuck?? Or I've seen some ppl go insane bc some ppl headcannon James Potter as mexican or desi. And some people headcannon sirius/remus/regulus as trans, and they are getting shit on too. What???

Do we not remember that we are talking about FICTIONAL CHARACTERS??? And that the marauders fandom makes fanfics... again. FAN... FICS. They are not cannon. Sometimes they arent supposed to be even close to cannon. It is fan based. Interpretations and expressions of said characters and story line. Dont like it? Turn the other way and find people, blogs, videos, stories, and headcannons that you DO like!

As for the treatment of other fellow fans here, im truly devastated about it. Trans people do NOT deserve this kind of treatment, especially here! Especially since this fandom is based on inclusivity, acceptance, and found family.

Whats even worse is the ppl who say Fuck JKR and hide behind that while STILL continuing to act against the lgbt community, marginalized groups, and other fellow marauder fans. You know who you are. Do better.

The world is already a scary place, and a scarier place for trans folk. With Tr!mp in office here in the states, its even scarier to see all of the excessive hate on my community and seeing less and less safe places available for both queer and trans people.

The safe places that trans people have are sacred, and thats how it should be here too

Forgetting the fact that marauders was during the 70s-80s (again the world is literally made up, logical time and the beliefs at that time dont have to follow), would James potter truly be a person to turn away a friend for being queer or trans. Think about it. Ill wait. Oh wait, I don't have to, because NO. NO HE WOULDNT! He found out Remus was a werewolf, a literal XXXXX creature that can brutily kill people one night of the month, and james said "yes, I accept him. And because of my friendship to him, I will research and go through the process of becoming an animagus because I care for my friend and he doesnt deserve to be alone." As did sirius and peter in the end.

Be more like James Potter. It is not difficult to respect people. Respect your fellow marauders & hp fans. Keep this a safe place for them, and all.

Thank you.

[bambisturns]

Matt x Poppy!Reader

Matts tiktok feed does something to him. He cracks.

Everything Matt x Poppy!Reader related here!

Matt knew you were on tour, at least thats what Madison told him the last time he and his brothers hung out with her. Today was supposed to be like any other sunday, a reset lounging around maybe getting some more needed sleep he knew he needed. After sitting in the living room for roughly the majority of the day, Matt let both his brothers know he was taking a nap, and not to wake him unless it was an emergency.

Laying in before Matt decided to do his routinely scheduled “tiktok scrolling until he passes out” his eyes blurring from the heaviness of him being so tired. With one last swipe a video of you pop up he sits up straight breath caught in his throat. Matt couldnt believe what he was seeing. ‘Is that Poppy crawling on the ground?!’ His eyes dont deceive him. Its you. Basking in all your glory. You crawl towards a fans camera leaning in giving it a kiss. Matts eyes widen. Hes never seen you act this way. Hes intrigued, this is a whole new you. ‘Fuck did I really fuck her up that bad?… yes you fucking idiot’ he answers his own thoughts.

Scrolling he sees another clip its just a regular video of you talking about how you making some music changes. “So we all know Ive kinda like always been a pop girly… if you guys have known me for a while you’ll know that I actually enjoy alternative music.” You say in the video ‘I knew that!’ He thinks to himself remembering you really loving deftones. Always had it playing. “Well Im actually going through the process of a genre change..” the crowd screams. The screaming echoing in Matts room.

“So ive written a song I cant tell you much about it yet… BUT BUT hear me out… what if i gave you a taste of what youll see from me next… hmm…” you smile tilting your head to the side before the lights dim and you run off stage, the video cuts out. ‘What thats it?!’ Matt thinks to himself. He goes to the persons account and finds the part two video. Clicking it instantly. Your outfit changed no longer wearing your pink sparkly corset mini dress but now a black corset mini dress his eyes widen ‘holy fuck’

The crowd screaming again. The lights dimming more fog and a soft red hue lingering. Then he hears it. “Change (in the house of flies)” by deftones starts playing. Your voice a little more raw more intense more… you. His eyes widen even more. Oh he’s invested. He’s never seen you like this swinging your hair around on your knees being seductive, your in your element.

You see the girl recording so you gave her a little show for her video getting on your knees bouncing up and down, swinging your hair around some more, running your hands through your hair. Finally tilting your head to the side you give the camera a little smirk and wink then the “ahh’s” from the song start you lay on the ground arching your back sliding your free hand down your body while making direct eye contact with the camera.

“HOLY FUCK Y/N YOUR SO FUCKING HOT” he hears the girl behind the camera scream. Matt is completely speechless eyes basically bulging out of his head it also helps that the girl recording is in the front row. Hes getting a good ass view of you doing your thing. ‘I fucked up real bad’ he thinks to himself. Without thinking Matt saves the video. Yea hes definitely gonna use that later.

But he cracked. He broke no contact.

Matthew:

Seen you on stage, you looked great poppy.

Really proud of you.

Read at 9:40pm

Poppy is so sexy I wanna be poppy.

🏷️: @thecrawlys

a/n: poppy is planning to do a sound change. Since she left her old record label and just started doing shit on her own. Her record label didn’t envision her the way she envisioned herself.

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hi~ hope you are doing great and having a good time; sorry to bother you, but can I ask some poly 141 x reader who is a veterinarian, or dog caretaker or trainer or K9 unit; and has taken care of many dogs, pets, service dog, militar dog, and so on; and the team saw her a little more introverted, seeing her eyes a little watery but not that red, still working but seeing the tell signs of touch starved and then they learn or know that a dog she helped bring into the world when born, now she had to put to sleep for injuries or sickness, what would they do? Since not many know how painful it is even if not your partner or dog have to do this?

Sorry for the long part, and feel free to ignore if too bothersome, actually I'm a vet and Im all teary, but can't really cry or bent since my family is cold or strick and the rest say like 'its just a dog's, and I'm also touch starved, sorry for this; just that I need a little comfort

Best regards :)

Oh @boogeysmoth I am so so sorry! I can't imagine how hard the bad days must be. I'd be heartbroken and crying all the time. (We're a family that believes in fur babies, so I get it. I hope this helps a little bit.

cw: implied child neglect (memory), animal death (off-page), poorly executed accents

Everyone on base knew who you were. Soft, sweet thing who was definitely more comfortable with dogs you trained than the people. It was an open secret on base that, despite what you were training the dogs to do, you recognized their value as therapy animals. Soldiers often found their way to your portion of the yard after a mission gone wrong or when a unit lost someone or when the memories just became too much. You were patient with the soldiers who came to you, teaching them commands so the dogs could continue their learning and yet support the troops in a completely different way. You never shied away from the soldiers in those encounters, perhaps recognizing something in their hollow look, a kindred spirit in need of tender care.

The 141 in particular was well acquainted with your work. They never said it, but in their eyes, you were theirs.

Simon knew how it felt to feel like you didn't belong. Gaz understood what it was like to care for so many others with your whole heart. Price recognized the weight of responsibility you carried; your job was to train and watch out for your dogs the same way he did for his men. Soap saw how you retreated into yourself, like Ghost had when they met, and vowed to pull you into a world that might not deserve your sunshine.

It was Ghost who noticed first. Back from a solo mission, he'd swung by the K9 grounds on his way to the barracks. You were on the field like usual, but as his steps slowly brought him to the edge of your space, he saw you hesitate to reward your current charge after a followed command. There was stiffness where once had been ease, distance when you were typically close.

In Price's office for debrief, he said, "Somethin's wrong." Price merely raised a brow, so he continued. "She's actin' like the dogs are a chore. She loves them damn things." He paused, thinking of his childhood, the indifference from some who was supposed to love him. "'S not right. She loves them, Price. And if she's actin' all cold, somethin' happened."

So Price started watching too. Saw what Ghost meant, how you didn't seem to want to touch the dogs any more than you needed to. When two rookies came up, looking to sit with the dogs, you turned them away. There was no hard look, no sharp retire, but it was one of the meanest things he'd seen on base.

Several days later Gaz was sent to the K9 unit with a pile of slightly worn blankets. Requisition order gone wrong and they were far too small for the barracks' beds. He walked into your office, smile in place, and said, "Got some presents for your pups, doll."

You looked up blankly at him and the blankets. "Oh. Er, that's nice, but the dogs don't need them." You turned back to the papers on your desk, but Gaz stayed rooted where he was. You were always looking for comfort items for the dogs to make them feel cared for. You asked for stuffed toys and never turned down blankets and soft bedding.

Two weeks after Ghost first saw something off, Soap came around the edge of the K9 kennels to find you weeping in the back of an empty cage. Kneeling in the back, face buried in your hands, quietly sobbing. He didn't hesitate to open the unlocked gate and join you on the cement floor.

You felt a strong arm wrap around your shoulders before pulling you into a warm, solid chest. Quiet shushing and a whispered, "Ah've got ye," accompanied by gentle rocking. He stayed with you as the tears tapered off, and only when they were done did he ask, "Ye want tae talk about it?"

Your inhale was fast, shakey. The tears were barely at bay when you started talking. "I had to put him down," you said, voice laced with grief. Soap couldn't remember the last time he'd heard someone's heart break, but he swore yours did as you spoke. He didn't say anything, but the arm around you squeezed a little tighter. "My little Rascal. I know he's in a better place, but I miss him." The tears started again, and you didn't even try to staunch them. *And I don't know if I can keep doing this," you say between sobs. "I know what happens to these dogs in the field. I'm giving them over to be slaughtered!"

He could hear the change in your breathing, the breaths coming faster and faster. "Ach, bon! De ye no see how much good ye do?" He positioned you so he could see your face. "Love, ye give hope! The dogs ye train help keep us safe, an' we do our best to keep 'em safe in return. We treat 'em like another member of a unit. We doan let 'em get slaughtered." Deep down you knew this, but hearing it now helps ease the gaping ache in your heart just a little.

Your breathing slowed slightly. But before you could reply, try to tell Soap he was wrong, he continued in a whisper. "An' here ye help us feel human again when ye let us be wi' the pups." Shame raced through you, remembering how you'd turned the privates away last week.

You hiccuped and said, "I don't think my heart can take it to keep caring." You were so quiet Soap could have pretended he didn't hear you, but you and the dogs deserved better.

"Oh, love. When it hurts too much take care, you come find us, yeah? We can help set ye tae rights."

You nodded. "Okay," you mumbled. "I think I can do that."

He stood and pulled you up, walking backwards out of the empty kennel. "And Ah ken the best way tae start," he stated, maneuvering you further down the hall to the full kennels. He put a light hand on your waist, deftly pulling the keyring off your belt. He found the cage with the youngest dogs and tried each key until one worked. When the lock clicked, the three puppies on the other side of the gate came running. Soap pulled you in behind him and closed the gate. He took a seat on the floor and patted the space next to him.

By the time you dropped to the ground, two puppies were already climbing on Soap's lap. He coaxed the last into your arms. You stayed with him, arms full of warm puppy, until you felt the cold grip around your heart melt.

an: This was a little tribute to my in-laws doggie of the same name and my cat menace, Mushu. They're over the rainbow bridge now. ❤️

[ender-cloud]

Jekyll and Hyde are so silly chat I love them so much

Tgs spoilers Under the cut

This, this right here, this is projecting. Before even knowing about Hyde he has this assumption about him because he’s always seen Hyde as smaller than him. He is trying to belittle Hyde so Hyde will give up.

In any other world Hyde wouldn’t have gone into the mind Scape if he had given up, I dont think Jekyll is thinking right. This man has some block in his brain, because why is he all of a sudden so blind to see things infront of him.

What is that block? Well its like a truama block, its easier to say Hyde has given up because he is trying to finally have his peace. He’s spent all of this time worrying about keeping it secret and then all of a sudden it’s revealed to the entire society?

It feels to Jekyll that HES the one who LOST, not Hyde, so he’s projecting that onto Hyde. Deep inside he feels like a failure, and is having a hard time believing that Hyde could be stronger than him because Hyde is supposed to be the bad part of him.

The split wasnt all 50/50, some things that Jekyll may not have wanted to get rid of are in Hyde.

Hyde has realized that he’s got to make Jekyll see how strong and determined he actually is.

All Hyde wants to do is bring Jekyll back because He wants to go back to normal, he wants everything to be the same, back to how it always was, because he’s terrified of the prospect of change. Even if things weren’t always the greatest his relationship with Jekyll is what kept him, well himself.

You can even see it here, even though he may need to be vulnerable to get Jekyll back, he can’t help but take a jab at Jekyll because thats their dynamic.

But it’s also because he’s scared, he doesn’t know where they are, he dosent know if he can win, and he doesn’t know if he can even get Jekyll, or even himself back safely.

Jekyll’s shock could be because Hyde fought back, or because hes just Shocked that Hyde would ever want to save him after everything he did and how he fought with Hyde for so many years, he dosent get how Hyde could want to save him.

In his mind, it feels like Hyde is trying to trick him, trying to get him back, just to make his life hell once again. He dosent know about Lanyon, he dosent know about anything thats going on in the world, all he knows is that Hyde betrayed him by exposing them to all of the lodgers + his lover.

They are 5 year olds your honor.

This made me giggle, I get that this is supposed to be serious in their mind but just imagine it voice acted and it just make things so much better.

“No im not!” “Yes you are!” They act like Little kids!!!!

Anyways, back to the actual update: as i said above, Jekyll dosent trust Hyde, he thinks its a trick and while we know its not it makes so much sense why he does.

But Hyde is not having it, he has tried so hard and has risked his life just for Jekyll to tell him no? Of course they are going into an altercation (no matter how childish it is)

They’ve always acted in this kinda brotherish dynamic. Where they would fight but kind of in a childish way, and I think that’s mostly because Hyde.

Hyde has some childish tendencies which Jekyll gets caught up into it often, especially when their emotions are both high and overwhelming that they have to express them in someway and that’s how they know how too, its always worked for them and for a moment it seems like things are going back to normal.

First off, Just look at Hyde’s pose in this, even though the fight ended he isnt going to just give up just like that, no matter what Jekyll might think of him.

He’s not giving up, not just for himself, but he’s not giving up hope for Jekyll. He knows Lanyon is trusting him to do this and he dosent want to fail him aswell.

So much is riding on Hyde and Jekylls stubbornness is ruining his plans. He will probably just follow Jekyll, if he cant convince him one way there must be another, he will probably change his approach or keep on doing it until Jekyll breaks.

He needs to make Jekyll realize that he’s not useless, he needs to make Jekyll realize that people still care for him, especially Lanyon.

To get Jekyll back Hyde needs to give him hope.

[lanadoesextrawriting]

ENEMIES TO LOVERS HCS PT. 2

im yours to keep, and im yours to lose

pairings: bucky barnes x avengers!reader

tw: swearing

a/n: hey my lovelies, i havent posted in a bit sadly but i do wanna try posting more espcially after thunderbolts comes out because i wont shut up about it@!!@!@#@!!!!!!!!!!!! anyways heres part one if you havent seen it already <3

he insists on driving whenever you guys are in any sort of vehicle and he claims its because he doesn't trust you to not crash you two.

but its actually because he needs to be able to focus on something other then you when you are together.

mixes up judging you with checking you out sometimes, these opportunities to stare is taken with some form of gratitude.

you have him named as "elsa the ice queen" and when he found on a mission it went like this.

"you have me named as what?"

"oh, my apologies i forgot your favourite was anna."

"fuck off."

"trust me, nothing would make me happier."

"yet here you stand."

"not by choice, dickhead."

hes usually not trying to compete with you, he chooses to instead watch over you, take in details so he can use them to mock and belittle you later not knowing he just ends up memorizing the little things about you.

he understands your habits and thinking without even wanting to, hes just observant, so he says. not knowing thats actually what makes him know things about the most annoying smartass in his life.

it honestly infuriates him when something reminds him of you because he remembered something about you.

traumabonding and hating john walker is the only thing that keeps you from stabbing his face off other than the other avengers

"oh and walker-"

"dont even get me started on him."

"at least youre logical in one area."

"aw, was that a compliment from you, james buchanan barnes? its my lucky day."

if you ever get injured theres still arguing, even if you are on the floor and on your last breaths.

although we know he wouldnt let that happen.

like you could be stabbed and be lying there and you are STILL bickering over whose fault is was, while hes trying to get you to stay still so he can begrudgingly help.

"jesus christ, cant we just remove the damn thing?"

"im not a doctor but i know thats not how it fucking works, dumbass."

"i'll do it myself, here-"

"don't you fucking dare."

if you ever get arrested for whatever reason there is, the others will send bucky because they know he will annoy you into not doing it ever again, and act like a total asshole to you while doing so.

if he notices you're not looking too great then he will still make some comments about you, just not as much directed towards your current state (somehow better, i suppose.)

and he not-so-subtly tells everyone to back off from you so you dont get bothered all that much on that day.

but ofc he thinks hes just doing it so you wont have to be extra pissy at him, but is it though?

[muttsupreme]

omg you did my request tysm 🥹🥹 you write roman's dialogue so well

another request maybe,, idk what your inbox is like but,,,, maybe more sub romey? perhaps using a vibe or toys on him if thats something youre ok with writing,,

don’t worry i love procrastinating so my inbox is like rarely ever a problem lol it just gives me reasons to avoid actually writing wips😭

ALSO sorry this is late. and sorry to everyone ever that i’m always on pseudo-hiatus. don’t fear, i still adore roman in insane ways that im too horrified to post about and i’m open to the craziest vilest inbox discussions. if i don’t get back to you, don’t worry, im probably just putting it on the back burner for the time being🤍

wow, look at that oscar winner. still buzzing for him! (pun intended)

I’m thinking a vibrator though. And it’s probably his fault anyway, he’s all curious and nosey, you call him your little Curious George as he rummages through your stuff. He sticks his hand inside your thigh-high socks just to feel the insides where your bare skin has touched, thinking of ways he can bring up why you brought thigh-high socks to an international fucking meeting thing in Sweden with just you, him, his dad, the team of his dad’s goons, and Hotty McHotterson Matsson. Are you trying to give the Ikea guy a thighjob, or give his dad a heart attack, maybe let Frank eat you out — what is the reason for this?

He finds a little baggie that he’s seen before; he thinks you keep like, your razors and shit in it, probably just a toiletries bag. He doesn’t really understand the implications of there being little kittens on the bag, but okay. Inside of the bag is just regular shit like he expected, panties mostly (but unworn, so, y’know, kind of useless to him for the most part). But oh, he doesn’t recognize this fabric, the fuck is this lacey thing?

It’s a little baggie, and it’s sort of cute that it looks like lace panties, but it’s sheer enough for the cuteness to disa-fucking-ppear real quick and in a hurry. Pink, rubbery, with a rose gold cap where the charging port is, a fucking vibrator.

He takes it out, sniffs it real quick, trying to catch a whiff of your pussy. Presses the button to figure out how to turn it off and on, the settings, the vibration patterns. He wonders if you like the pattern where it does those little staccato beats. Maybe he could match his typically-stuttering thrusts to it. Maybe you’d cry a little, wriggle around. You’d probably cream the nicest on just the lowest setting pressed to your clit, go all gooey-brained for him.

When you walk in, it’s a standoff. Roman holds up the toy, finally turned off, like a fuckin’ mob boss in the dim-lit hotel room that you’re secretly sharing.

“Are you trying to star in a porno? What is this shit?” he says, also raising your thigh-highs before dropping the fabric on the nightstand. He’s not actually pissed, just sort of like a spoiled brat who’s upset that his mommy is dividing her attention with someone else. “You planning to use this tonight, right beside me? Infidelity is calling, and holy shit, you are picking up!”

“Umm, no. It’s a vibe, not a fucking dildo,” you mention, remembering the whole conversation he’s secretly referring to. You know, the one where he almost cried because you made a mean joke about buying a dildo and he told you that you can only use a dildo if it’s just like his cock. And preferably solid gold.

“It’s just for emergencies, if i just — need it, y'know?” Because sometimes you do just need it. You’ll see Roman do something fucking insanely hot and you just don’t wanna bother him, so you go back to your room and get under a blanket with a pillow between your legs to muffle the noise, and use your vibrator. A few times, maybe, all depends on what it is. Roman feels a little bit like shit hearing that it's 'in case of emergencies' even if it's meant as a joke; he's supposed to be there in case of emergencies, that's how a normal relationship works, where two people get each other off whenever they need to be gotten off and then kiss and chat and cuddle afterwards or whatever.

“Oh — emergencies, yeah. And what constitutes an emergency, seeing Kendall do a line of coke, getting a little too bored scrolling on Twitter?” he can’t meet your eyes. He just flaps his hand, signaling for you to come closer, and you do. “Here, come here,” he demands. What a brat.

As soon as you get close enough, he drops the vibe, leans up, and kisses you, all tongue and teeth and excitability. It’s almost forced.

“Mm — mhh,” you make some noise to signal that this is clearly about more than just him being horny. You pull away.

“Fuck, what? What?” he sounds fussy.

“Roman, you don’t have to — whatever it is you think you’re doing.” It feels forced, and with Roman, you don’t like the idea of him doing something because he feels shitty. That’s kind of your job. “Chill out, just calm down, okay? It’s okay.”

“I know it’s okay, why the fuck wouldn’t it be okay?” he snaps, then makes some weird noise between a groan and a sigh. He grabs you by the waist and tugs you to straddle his lap on the bed, all playful how he normally is, burying his face in your clavicle and resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Sorry, Jesus. Sorry. I don’t know what the fuck came over me. Guess I got jealous thinking about you using your little fucktoy without me.” He spits out the words like they leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“I mean — you know you can just use me instead. I might be the wordy but I’m, like, usable. You can stick the vibrator on my thigh or something,” he huffs, placing a quick peck to the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. He’s still rambling, doesn’t give you the chance to respond.

“I mean really, a vibrator? Over me? I see how it is. It buzzes a little and you’re sold. Not like I’ve got fingers, a tongue…other things. No, you’d rather have some piece of fucking gross plastic that doesn’t give a shit.” The hurt is evident in his voice through his exaggerated, whiny approach.

“Oh my fucking god,” you chuckle, like it’s some kind of joke. “So what you’re saying is, you give a shit?”

“Well, I’d at least like to be there. I wanna be here instead of a piece of pink plastic, I can fucking hold you afterwards,” he doesn’t realize how humiliating the shit he’s saying is until it’s already out. There’s an awkward pause, like he’s waiting for a response but can’t imagine one that wouldn’t humiliate him. “Can you just call me a slut or something? I don’t know, might help.”

“Baby, you wanna hold me afterwards?” you melt. He visibly tenses. “Romeo, gimme the vibe. M’kay? Lemme make it up to you.” Your voice is all saccharine, like you could write love songs and poetry for the way he twitches and his littlest tics. How he follows you like a puppy into your room, even on business trips, even when you’re only a few doors down. You’d ride him until he jizzed in you a million times.

“Whatever, I wanna hold you, big whoop. Breaking news, a Roy actually expresses emotions — oh em gee! Can you just be normal? Because I am. I’m a normal, manly man. I’ll pass on being the subject of your next emo Tumblr lovecore post.”

You giggle a little, lean down. You grab the vibrator from where it sits on the bed, on top of the fancy comforter. Leaning down, it’s one of those moments where he’s just quiet for once, almost struck by you, almost scared, in that nice jittery way, impatiently waiting for what you’ll do next. You kiss him, a small peck that he doesn’t further, knowing you too well, almost certain that you have your own plans and your own way to go about them.

“Take your pants off, briefs too,” you speak quietly. “And I can show you. Okay? We can share.”

He obeys. Mumbles complaints as he unbuckles and unbuttons, lips curling up in a sneer at his own clumsiness. When you offer help, he snips little defensive remarks at you that just make you grin.

“Okay, here, fuck,” he huffs. No witty remark, he can’t even think of one. The situation is conflicting because yeah, your intent is to show him that you can use a vibrator that doesn’t resemble him at all while still thinking of him, and yay, how exciting to have the pink vibrating nub you grind your clit against on his tip, but also it isn’t your pussy? So he’s a little extra excited about the new unexpected shit, while less excited because it isn’t technically you, so — it equals out.

He yanks his pants off real fuckin’ quick but is reluctant with his briefs and shirt. Slowly he unbuttons his shirt but keeps it together, doesn’t take it off or spread it open — like he’s shy. He awkwardly fumbles with his too-tight Calvin Kleins, cock hitting his tummy as he kicks the fabric off his ankle onto the floor, lying on the bed. He lays straight, like you’re about to kill him rather than get him off. Shrugs his shoulders, arms raised a little with an expression that says all the demanding shit he can’t think to voice.

You don’t turn on the vibrator yet, you just crawl over to straddle him and kiss him, his scruff tickling your face. Holding the pink plastic in your left, your right hand encircles the meaty middle of his dick, and you aren’t just doing it for him, that’s apparent. His dick jumps in your hold and he lets out a little sigh, a whimpery one.

“Haven’t — you know it, it’s um, it has…been, like, a while. Like, a while a while.” His hands feel like they’re bruising your thighs with his grip on them. Feels like he’s floating away.

“I know. That’s why I wanna treat you well. I have manners,” you claim, a fucking bold claim in his opinion.

“Hhyeah,” he makes a sarcastic noise.

“I do! I’ll show that I do, okay?”

He’s a little put-off by how you’re so okay with it. He’s kind of not? Horrified now as he watches you reach for the vibrator, that pink fucking rubber is making him feel all tipsy-topsy-turvy and the second you turn around, and it’s a knee-jerk reaction, he kisses you. You can’t not be a little shocked. It’s all sudden and teeth clacking and his tongue forcing itself in your mouth, his hands grabbing your face.

You giggle and he makes a little “mmfh” noise when he pulls away, plopping back against the pillows. “Don’t — laugh at me, fuck, I’m trying to make this at least a little romantic.”

“Yeah, well you put the ‘Roman’ in romantic, don’t you?” you tease.

“You — oh, can we, uumm—,” he’s twitchy and almost scared. It’s hard to actually believe this is happening, he feels lightheaded.

“Shhh-sh-sh. Stay down,” you push him down, keep him still. “Good boy,” you say sweetly, almost taunting him, inching his briefs down as he instinctively lifts his hips up. His tip is leaky and he’s half-hard and fuck, it makes you feel like a drooling perv just looking at him, his soft tummy revealed from his shirt hiking up, his pretty dick, his balls on display. You press the tip of the vibrator to the base of his dick.

“Be good for me,” you say and he just nods, eyes closed like he’s scared to get a shot instead of — this.

It starts slow and low and he bucks his hips. You run the vibrator up and down his cock before circling it on his tip; he’s fully hard in no time.

“I’m — stop, stop it,” he demands, fucking up into the vibrator.

“You wanna tell me what you’re thinkin’ about?” you continue circling his tip, pressing it against the sensitive ridge on the underside, the vibrator still on the lowest setting.

“Fucking — fucking you into oblivion,” he threatens through a swallowed whimper. “Fuck! You — you, okay? I get it, I get it, you can stop now, I can’t keep—,” his cock jerks and oh, he’s so close.

“Keep on. Be detailed, tell me more. Prove it to me.”

“Oh — yeah, o-okay, fuck,” he gasps, holding onto your wrist and fucking up into the air, bucking his hips to slide his dick against the vibrator. “You, you’re pussy, it’s used this and been against it or whatever, so — my…dick, is against where your pussy, has been, kinda?”

“Uh-huh? That’s nice,” you coo, your other hand grabbing his dick and slowly jerking him off at the base of his dick. He jolts. “Keep talking to me.”

“Can’t — can’t, can’t, I’m gonna fuckin’ blow my load all over that thing if you don’t stop, now,” he threatens, thighs twitching visibly beneath you.

“Go ahead, honey. Do what you gotta do,” you kiss the tip of his nose and it’s chaste, but it’s the last fucking straw for him. He cums in thin spurts, staining your shirt at the tummy, and his button-up, but most of it landing on the vibrator that keeps on buzzing.

“Okay, you proved your point, Jesus fuck — let me—,”

“Uhn-uhn. Just ‘cause you cum doesn’t mean I’m done with you,” you say, clicking the button to harshen the vibrations against his red and cum-slick tip. He melts.

“Don’t, I’m gonna — I’m not fucking — made for this shit! Blow-up Roman-doll is gonna deflate, I’m not—,” he makes a silly, garbled noise of frustration that makes you giggle. “Oh — fuck, I’m so glad you think this is funny. Nice.”

You press the vibrator to his balls for a moment and his dick jerks like a live wire as you cup them, holding them in place with the hand that was once on his cock. You bounce on his lap with his thrusts against fucking nothing.

“Please, can you just give me your, I don’t — mouth? Pussy? Ass? Fuckin’ pinkie toe?”

“You gotta learn to love the vibe. ‘S yours now, too, y’know,” you say, moving it back up to his dick once you get all your eye-candy in of his cock bobbing. His eyes roll back.

“Again, gonna—,”

“Good boy,” you drawl. Your hand moves to his tip, holding the vibe to his shaft as you milk the cum from him.

He lets out some pathetic noise that’s almost cute, like he’s truly as desperate as he looks with his hips twitching and hands gripping the skin of your thighs for dear life, eyes taking pitiful glances at your own eyes when they can stay open despite how misty they’ve gotten. He spurts a nice little dribble of cum, pathetic and milked dry, just running on empty today. It’s sort of hot, in the most piteous way.

“That good, do you think?” you pull the vibrator away and turn it off, holding it up.

“Good, good. ‘M good, yeah,” you chuckle at his drowsiness and drop the vibrator on the bed, but your hand doesn’t stop milking him.

“One more. Just us this time, right? That’s what you wanted?”

“Mmmhm, mnn,” he nods and fucks into your fist lazily.

“Fuck it for me. Can you do that?”

He nods excitedly, leaning into your touch as you run your hands through his hair, down his face.

His hips hump the hole you’ve made with your hand, cocktip poking through with nearly every thrust, leaking onto you.

“Already?” you ask in response to his cock twitching in your hold.

He nods his head sheepishly, “Uh-huh, I gotta.”

“Go ahead then, come on. Gimme a good one and next time we’ll get you a fleshlight. Can pretend it’s me when—,” he cums before you can even finish your sentence, his thighs shaking and hips bucking, dick fucking your fist nice and deep, like he’s in your pussy trying to fuck his cum as deep as possible, rut against your cervix. “…I was gonna say you can pretend your fleshlight’s me when we’re away on these things, but okay.”

“Yeah, I connected the…dots,” he says breathily, putting his fingers together to symbolize the ‘dots’ being ‘connected’. “Fuck. Gross. Three trips to splooge city enough, ball-drainer?” His cum is nice and thick this last time, came real hard. “Or you want me to let you hump my thigh? Come on, sit on your daddy’s knee,” he drawls lazily and giggles, tugging you on top of him, not a thought spared for your clothes being coated in his cum or your immediate cringe.

“Sleep. Sleeeeep, now, shut up, shut the fuck up, no — nope, none of the whole thing, just sleep, all I want. Be my weighted blanket.” He holds you like a teddy bear on top of him. He’s snoring, nice and tuckered out, in minutes, cum drying on both of your clothes and your hand, vibrator lying on the bed beside you both.

[xxsillysealxx]

heh. you dont know me at all and im definitely not only here because you messaged me saying u made that post. but.... josh x reader headcanons or one shots? :3 preferably transmasc reader

woaggg i totally don't know you at all... giggles. love u char

Josh Levy x Transmasc!Reader Headcanons !!!

🪐 This is Joshua Levy we're talking about so um. Be prepared for some mild transphobia.

🪐 Veryyy confused about his crush on you, definitely goes back and forth between "he used to be a girl, so it isn't gay" and "but he's a guy now, fuck fuck fuck I'm such a fag oh my god".

🪐 Starts asking way more about your gender and what it means. He cannot process the idea of choosing to become a man; women are so pretty and they get all that attention, how could you possibly want to become a guy?

🪐 Explain it to him using some comparison to science fiction media, then he'll start to get it. A good example would be the character Switch from the Matrix. He'll start to understand eventually.

🪐 Understanding the complexities of your gender identity unfortunately is not helping with his internalized homophobia. If you ever wanted to get a confession out of him, it'd be an accident, or you'd have to really push it out of him, and he'd be mortified afterwards.

🪐 Giddy when you accept, but still keeps your relationship pretty private. Partly for your safety, and partly because he's still processing that he's dating a man.

🪐 Rambles about his interests in detail to you, kind of shocked if you don't immediately understand. You're a dude, and dudes are supposed to get this kind of stuff??? At least, that's what he thinks.

🪐 He's gonna show you every science fiction movie or show that you haven't seen, buckle up.

🪐 TLDR: Give him time, he'll come around. I fully believe if he actually got some bitches he'd be much better off as a person.