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#I don’t really have any friends on here but I feel like talking to anyone who reads this
buckactuallys · 2 days
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pia!!! for the writing prompts: 22 cancelling their schedule just to spend time with them, if that sparks anything! <3
hi nina!!! it took a while but then it sparked something indeed, thanks for sending the prompt <3
hearts will hold
3.1k, [read on ao3]
“Hey,” Eddie says when Buck opens the door, casual, like Buck should’ve expected him. Which he did not. 
“Uh, h-hey,” he says. “Didn’t you say you had plans today?”
“Canceled them,” Eddie says easily, pushing past Buck into his loft. “I’d rather be here anyway.”
“Eddie, I–“ Buck closes the door and turns to watch Eddie rummage through his fridge, emerging with two bottles of beer. “What do you mean, you canceled them? Didn’t you have a date?”
Eddie shrugs, opening the balcony door one handed while holding the beers in the other. Buck has no choice but to follow him out there, still confused. 
This morning after work, he asked Eddie if he was busy this afternoon, and Eddie said he was gonna see Marisol. It’s not unusual lately, that Eddie can’t hang out with Buck because he’s got plans with his girlfriend. Which is normal and to be expected, but also fucking sucks because, well – Buck has horrible timing and realized some things too late.
“You can’t cancel on your girlfriend for me,” he says guiltily, but takes the beer Eddie offers him anyway.
“Of course I can, you’re my best friend. It just felt like I’d brushed you off too many times lately, and I don’t wanna do that.”
“It’s fine,” Buck says, but he’s not sure how convincing he sounds. 
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re not a priority,” Eddie continues like Buck didn’t say anything, and Buck has to close his eyes briefly. Being bulldozed by Eddie’s love and care has gotten so much harder since he’s had his realization. “Because you are. So shut up and let me hang out with you, okay?”
Buck laughs a little. “Okay, okay. I’m glad you’re here.”
“So I didn’t interrupt any plans?”
“Nah,” Buck shrugs. “Was gonna go for a run or something later, but that’s it.”
He swallows down the self-deprecating “Don’t have anyone to make plans with,” before he can say it (he knows it’s not entirely true, but Maddie is so preoccupied with her own family, and everyone else has their own thing going on too, he doesn’t want to bother them), but Eddie hears it anyway, of course.
“I’m surprised you’re not at Bobby and Athena’s right now, making sure they’re recuperating.”
“I’m going there tomorrow,” Buck admits sheepishly, but Eddie looks more pleased than anything else.
“Good,” he says. “And you should come over for dinner this week, you know Christopher can’t go a week without seeing you.”
“You don’t have to make sure I’m…entertained, or whatever,” Buck mutters. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can,” Eddie says. “It’s just– you seem a little off, lately. Since the cruise thing, or maybe the breakup. I don’t know, but I worry about you.”
“I’m fine,” Buck says again. “You don’t have to cancel on your girlfriend to check on me.”
“That’s not– Buck, I want to hang out with you. I’d like it if you talked to me about what’s going on with you, but I want to spend time with you regardless of that. I didn’t come over here to check on you, or to interrogate you.”
“Okay,” Buck says quietly. “Okay. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so touchy today.”
But he does know – he’s tired and grouchy and a little bit heartbroken, and it apparently makes him snippy.
“It’s okay,” Eddie says. “Do you wanna talk about the breakup?”
“Not really.” Buck takes a sip of his beer. “There’s not that much to say anyway. It just became obvious eventually that we didn’t have much in common. Besides the death thing, I guess.”
They’re back in comfortable territory after that, talking the same way they always do, and Buck finally relaxes. He worries about seeming anything less than normal lately, scared to be caught out, unsure about what is his normal around Eddie. Looking back, it seems to him like he’s never been really normal about him at all, but it’s different when he knows.
He’s clearly not doing the best job, because Eddie noticed that he’s been acting strange, but not the worst either, because at least he can’t tell why. And Eddie’s acting the same, so everything is fine.
The next time Buck asks Eddie to hang out, he suggests taking Christopher to California Science Center together that weekend, and Eddie says yes after only a second of hesitation.
“They’ve got a special exhibit on Da Vinci right now,” he says. “It’s supposed to be really cool.”
“You had me at ‘California Science Center’,” Eddie says with a smile, and Buck grins back, already excited to tell Christopher.
“This is so much better than going shopping,” Christopher breathes a few days later, staring up at a model of da Vinci’s Flying Bicycle.
“What do you mean?” Buck asks. “Were you supposed to go shopping today?”
“Yeah, Dad said we need to get me new jeans and shoes,” Chris says distractedly. “And I think Marisol was supposed to come for dinner. But we can do that another time, I like you better anyway.”
Buck doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what to say, to any of the things Chris has just told him. Should he encourage him to make more of an effort with his dad’s girlfriend? But Eddie has never mentioned Chris being anything but nice to her, so it sounds like things are fine – and Buck can’t make him like her more than he does.
And– Eddie canceled his plans for him again? It makes warmth spread in his chest, a pleased little creature stretching in there. As a best friend, he should probably tell Eddie to prioritize his girlfriend, but he already knows he won’t do that. Maybe that makes him a terrible person, but it’s not like he’s telling Eddie to pick him over her. Eddie’s doing that all by himself, and Buck is selfish enough to let him.
A week later, Buck wakes up in the bunkroom with a sore throat and a headache at the tail end of their shift.
When he stumbles up to the loft, Hen only gives him one glance before coming over to worriedly press the back of her hand to his forehead.
“Yeah, you’re definitely coming down with something,” she announces, and Bobby steps around the kitchen counter, a frown on his face.
“Don’t worry about finishing up the shift, Buck,” he says. “Should I get someone to drive you home?”
“I’m okay,” Buck mutters. “Well, n-not okay, but– I can drive myself home.”
“What’s going on?” Eddie asks, coming up the stairs. He pauses at the top, taking in the scene, then rushes to Buck’s side. “Buck? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Buck says, but his voice sounds a bit croaky. “Just think I’m getting sick.”
Eddie presses his hand to his forehead too, then nods grimly. “I’ll drive you home.”
“No, seriously, I’m okay to drive,” Buck says. “I promise. I’ll drive carefully and text you when I’ve made it home and everything.”
Chimney appears in the loft next and they do the whole spiel again, until finally, the others agree to let him drive home by himself. Buck would never go so far as to endanger anyone else, even to avoid bothering his friends, and they all know it.
“Tell us if you need anything,” Hen says. “Anything at all.”
“Food, entertainment, meds, we’ll bring you anything,” Chimney adds. “And text your sister, she’ll want to know.”
“I’ll take you off the next shift, too,” Bobby says, gently steering him towards the stairs with a hand on his shoulder. “Rest, okay? We don’t want you to overexert yourself. And get well soon.”
Eddie accompanies him all the way to his jeep, his arm steady and warm whenever it brushes against Buck’s, and leans against the car while Buck climbs in.
“I’ll drop by later with some stuff,” he says. It’s not a question, but Buck tries anyway.
“You don’t have to,” he says. “I have food at home, I’ll probably just lay in bed and sleep or watch TV until I feel better. I don’t want you to catch anything.”
Eddie gives him a look. “I’ll see you later, Buck,” he says, and pointedly closes the car door.
Buck grins, helpless against it, and starts the jeep.
At home, he texts the group chat that he made it, Maddie that he’s a little under the weather but that she shouldn’t worry and that he has everything he needs, then changes into sweats and a hoodie and collapses into bed.
When he wakes up, it’s to the smell of food and soft clattering sounds from the kitchen. The red numbers on his alarm clock tell him it’s afternoon already, so he slept a good few hours despite the sleep he already got on shift. He sits up, sneezes three times in a row, and by the time he’s blinked away the sleep, Eddie is standing at the top of the stairs, holding a mug.
“Drink this,” he says, handing Buck the mug. “How’re you feeling?”
Buck makes a noncommittal sound and takes a sip of the tea. The truth is that he’s really feeling sick now, stuffy nose, full body shivers, and still that annoying headache.
“Hm,” Eddie makes, touching Buck’s forehead again. “Sorry, bud, I know this sucks.”
Buck closes his eyes. “Kinda, yeah.”
“Well, if you’re feeling up to it, I’ve got some chicken soup on the stove that should be ready soon. You can eat some of it and rest on the couch?”
“I’ll come downstairs in a bit,” Buck says, breathing in the steam rising up from the mug. “Need to wake up a little.”
“Sure,” Eddie says, his hand twitching towards Buck but falling back to his side before it makes contact. “Take your time.”
Buck drinks the tea in bed, then goes to the bathroom before he slowly heads downstairs. His head is pounding now, and sudden moves make it worse.
Eddie meets him at the foot of the stairs, brow creased.
“Come on, sit down,” he says gently, ushering Buck over to the couch and spreading his fuzzy blanket over his legs once he’s sitting. “Are you warm enough?”
Buck smiles a little. “Yeah, stop fussing. You’re such a dad.”
Eddie shrugs, but he’s smiling too. “Can’t help it.”
He gets Buck a bowl of steaming chicken soup and then sits down next to him with a paper bag full of meds.
Buck gives him a bemused look. “Did you do anything today that wasn’t for me?”
“I had the time,” Eddie shrugs. “Christopher had plans for after school anyway, he’s not gonna be home until after dinner.”
“And you didn’t want to use the time to make plans with Marisol?” Buck asks, focusing on his soup instead of on Eddie. He doesn’t want to keep bringing her up, but he feels like one of them has to, or he’s gonna go crazy.
“She gets it,” Eddie says nonchalantly, like he’s not implying that he canceled on her again.
“But…,” Buck forces himself to keep going, “are things still going well with her?”
“There’s nothing wrong,” Eddie says, a little hesitant now. “I’m just also not sure it’s right? She’s nice, and fun, and I like hanging out with her, but…I guess I just– she’s kind of further down on my list than a girlfriend should be.” He shakes his head, then shakes the paper bag in his hand. “Anyway, time to take these.”
So Buck focuses on taking his meds and finishing the soup, rather than the fact that his heart is beating a staccato rhythm against his sternum.  It probably doesn’t mean anything. Even if Marisol isn’t the one for Eddie, doesn’t mean he’d consider Buck instead.
And he loves being Eddie’s best friend. He���s so fucking lucky that Eddie picked him to be such a big part of his life. If that’s all it’s ever gonna be, Buck’s gonna find a way to live with it.
It’s just also gonna be hard as fuck, because Eddie is the kind of friend who, when Buck gets sleepy, maneuvers him down onto the couch but doesn’t get up to make room, and instead lets Buck rest his head on his lap.
He runs a gentle hand through Buck’s hair, massaging his throbbing head carefully, and Buck feels his eyes sting.
“Thank you,” he whispers, “for being here.”
Eddie smiles down at him, eyes warm. “Anytime.”
Buck holds his gaze for a few long seconds, watching as Eddie’s smile slips a little and he blinks rapidly a few times before he catches himself again.
“You okay?” he asks. “If you have to go–”
“No,” Eddie says, clearing his throat. His fingers resume their movement against Buck’s scalp. “No, I’m good. Right where I’m supposed to be.”
When Buck wrestles his tired eyes back open a few minutes later, Eddie’s not looking at him anymore. He’s staring off into the middle distance, deep in thought.
Eddie is at Buck’s loft every day for the three days he wrestles his stupid cold. It’s usually just an hour or two, but it makes the entire ordeal much less terrible. After that, Buck returns to work and his regular daily life, spending at least two nights a week at the Diaz house, meeting Maddie for lunch or coffee and helping her and Chim with wedding planning wherever he can.
Everything is completely normal, until it’s not.
On a completely normal Wednesday, on the way back to the station after a completely normal call, Hen turns to Eddie with sparkling eyes and asks, “So how are things with Marisol? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.”
“Um,” Eddie says, looking caught out. He picks at some invisible lint on his pants and says, so quiet they can barely hear it through the headset, “We actually broke up a while back.”
“What?” Hen, Chimney and Bobby ask at the time, covering the fact that Buck can’t say anything at all.
“What happened?” Hen asks.
“I just realized it wasn’t gonna work,” Eddie shrugs. He’s still looking at his knees, alternating with Buck’s like they always do when they’re crammed into the engine, rather than any of them, and his face is getting more and more flushed. “That…I wanted something different.”
He lifts his head just enough to sneak a glance at Buck, who only notices because he’s still staring so intently. Their eyes meet and Buck feels frozen in the moment, caught in his hope and the paralyzing fear that he’s wrong and would ruin everything if he were to ask Eddie.
Then Eddie jerks his head away and Buck sucks in a breath like he’s been suffocating.
“Well, good on you for realizing,” Chimney says, and Eddie looks up to shoot him a crooked grin. His face is still pink.
“I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually,” Bobby adds, and Eddie looks down again, but not fast enough that Buck can’t see the little smile that’s on his face now.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I think so too.”
His knee presses against Buck’s a little harder, and stays there.
For the rest of the shift, Buck feels jittery and nervous. Eddie doesn’t approach him so he doesn’t either, but he can’t stop staring at him.
Eddie seems pretty normal, just doing his job and shooting the shit with Hen and Chimney like always, but every time he catches Buck staring, he gives him this small smile that’s just different enough from his normal smiles that Buck’s heart keeps skipping beats. This really can’t be healthy.
After the end of their shift, while Buck’s fighting to button his shirt up with shaky fingers, Eddie steps close to him and says, “Come home with me.”
Buck shivers, goosebumps erupting all over his skin, and misses his buttonhole again when he nods jerkily. “Yeah, sure, of course.”
Eddie’s definitely smirking now but his ears and cheeks are pink again, so at least Buck isn’t alone with his flaming face.
They take separate cars so Eddie makes it before Buck, and when Buck finally unlocks the front door, Eddie is nervously pacing the length of his living room.
He spins around to face Buck with slightly wild eyes, then crosses the room in three big strides, coming to a stop right in front of him.
“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he says, and then his hands are on Buck’s face, warm and gentle and safe.
Buck catches on a second before their lips meet, his own hands latching onto the back of Eddie’s shirt. It makes Eddie smile, and that makes their first kiss a slightly off-center, dry press of lips.
But then Buck spreads his hands out on Eddie’s back, pulling him closer, and Eddie uses his hold on his face to tilt his head just so, and suddenly it’s perfect.
“Not reading it wrong,” Buck breathes against Eddie’s lips what could be hours or minutes later, and Eddie laughs a little, tucking his face into Buck’s neck.
“I was really scared,” he admits, and Buck squeezes him, presses a kiss to the shell of his ear and the side of his head.
“Me too, I was so scared I got it wrong. That my hope was, like, making things seem a certain way–”
Eddie runs a hand through his hair, looking up so he can meet Buck’s eye.
“I didn’t even get it,” he says, disbelief coloring his words. “I was already so deep– When you were sick, I told you I was right where I wanted to be. And that was true in a way I didn’t even– I wasn’t aware of just how much I literally always want to be where you are. And then that made me realize some other things, and put them into perspective, so I talked to Marisol–”
“You can tell me about her later,” Buck interrupts, and Eddie laughs.
“Okay. Let me just– I love you. That’s what I realized. I’m in love with you, and have been for god knows how long.”
Buck kisses him, slow and mostly chaste, but he’s still breathless when he pulls back again.
“I love you, too,” he says, touching Eddie’s warm cheek with gentle fingers and watching the way his eyelashes flutter. “I’ll tell you the rest of it later, too. For now, can we just – do this?”
Eddie grins, then tilts his head to press a kiss to Buck’s palm. “Let’s move to the couch first, but then – yeah, we definitely can.”
Buck would follow Eddie anywhere, so the couch is honestly his easiest exercise. And with the prospect of kissing the love of his life on it? He can’t get there fast enough.
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Therapist
Rosie Rosenthal X Therapist! Reader
Summary: Rosie needs to stop controlling everything; maybe his therapist can help...
Warning: +18/ sub!Rosie/ softdom!reader/ riding/ oral sex (f and m)/ forbidden relationship/ mention of death/ swearing/ praise/ use of Y/n/ fingering/
Word count: 3.0k
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Her official job title was military surgeon, but since the soldiers needed someone to talk to, Y/n became their confident and gave them advice, she heard a lot of things every day, but today, her newest patient was Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal. A few weeks ago, he was the only plane back from a mission, he saw everyone go down, word on the base was that he was closing to everyone, he didn’t talk about it with anyone, he shut down and acted like nothing happened. As she got ready to see him, she looked at his file, and she looked at his pictures, he was good looking, but she had to stay professional. She saw man like him all the time, not wanting to show any emotions, acting tough but if she said the right things, she could crack this wall he built up.
When he knocked at her door, he was kind of nervous, he didn’t like to talk about what was happening in the air, not with his colleagues and certainly not with a random person. Y/n opened the door, looking at the pilot in front of her, she told him to come inside as she closed the door behind him. ‘’Major Rosenthal, pleasure to meet you, I’m Dr. Mitchell’’ she introduced herself as she sat on a couch in front of him. ‘’Please, call me Rosie’’ he said, sitting down. ‘’Rosie how are you feeling?’’ she shyly smiled, she saw men all the time, but Rosie was really handsome. She had to supress the thoughts she had, they weren’t professional. ‘’Don’t take it personally, Doc, but I don’t know what I’m doing here’’ he started, anger could be heard in his voice. ‘’I understand your frustration, Rosie, but you did fly the mission with the most casualties’’ she delicately commented.
It had been 45 minutes since the session started and Rosie was impatient, he shouldn’t be here and as beautiful as Dr. Mitchell was, he wanted to get out of her office. ‘’Can I ask you one last question, Rosie?’’ she asked, looking at him. He bobbed his head, slowly, before taking a deep breath. ‘’Do you like being in control?’’ she simply asked. He didn’t understand the question. ‘’In control of what?’’ he spat, frustrated. ‘’Things in your life, the time you get up, what you eat, where you go and in control in aspect of your life, like friendships or sexual intercourse’’ she coughed at the end of her sentence. Her cheeks were becoming red and the air in the room felt heavy. ‘’Yeah, I like to control my own life, and sometimes, uh, yes, I’m, uh in control in the- the- bedroom, why do you ask?’’ he stuttered. He tried to not show how nervous he was. ‘’Because that’s why you’re angry of being here, not having control. I’m going to free you from this session’’ he walked towards the door. ‘’Major, we see each other in a week, during this time, can you try to do something that needs you to not be in control.’’ She blurts out. ‘’Like what?’’ he asks, because nothing comes in his mind. ‘’Ask a friend to set up your alarm, let someone organize something, and if you find a woman, let her be in charge’’ she blushed, again. ‘’Of the date or something.’’ She babbled, trying to not sound like she was encouraging him to have sex with someone. ‘’I’ll try, Doc’’ he said before leaving the room.
She couldn’t sleep, too many sinful thoughts were in her mind. It wasn’t professional to think about a patient that way. What was she thinking, suggesting him to have sex and not being in control?! That night, she tossed and turned, thinking about Major Rosenthal in an incriminating way, good news was, she had one week before seeing him again. Bad news was, she had one week before seeing him again.
He really fucking tried, he let his friend set his alarm, he almost did everything she asked him to, but he didn’t see how it helped him. Plus, he had wet dreams about her all week. He kept thinking about having sex with her, how she would moan his name, how her innocent gaze would be when she sucked him off. He was nervous before his appointment. He didn’t know how his body was going to react when he sees her. Nonetheless, he entered her office, smelling her perfume as he pushed the doors. There she was, wearing a white blouse with a beige skirt. When she turned to face him, he thought he was going to faint, since when did she wore glasses? They were transparent, but still it gave her this innocent look that drove him mad.
‘’Major, how have you been?’’ she smiles as she looks at him. He plays with his fingers a little bit, before sitting down in front of her. ‘’Frustrated, Doc, I’ve tried to give up control, but it’s hard’’ he said. That and the fact that he kept thinking about having sex with her didn’t help. ‘’And what did you try to do?’’ she bit her lips as she wrote what he was saying. The air was hot in the room, Rosie was practically boiling alive. ‘’Everything, except things that involved a woman’’ he admitted. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek to supress a grin on her face. She looked at his lips, God she wanted to kiss him right now. She cleared her throat as she pushed her thoughts far away, at least she tried. ‘’And how did it go?’’ she asked. ‘’Like shit, I don’t understand how this is going to help me getting back in the plane’’ he confesses. ‘’Rosie, the urge you feel, of getting back in the plane. That’s because you feel guilty of being alive. You don’t understand why them and not you.’’ She blurts out. ‘’Can I sit next to you’’ he asks, before getting up. Y/n nods and bites her lips again. He was listening to her psychoanalysis of him, watching her face, seeing how she blushed her she caught him looking at her. ‘’But maybe I’m wrong’’ she whispered, looking at him. ‘’Do you have problems with proximity?’’ she asks him. She watches as he shakes his head. ‘’So, you don’t think that everyone around you is going to die?’’ she clarifies. ‘’Why all these questions, Doc?’’ his voice was low, making her shiver.
‘’I’m just trying to understand your mind’’ she breaths out. He noticed how her breathing got quicker and her pupils were dilated. ‘’I just think we would have a clearer idea of what’s rushing you back if you opened up to me’’ she stated, avoiding eye contact, he was so damn beautiful, Y/n thought that if their eyes met, she was going to be as red as a tomato. The tension in the air was dangerously close to burst. He moved his leg ‘accidentally’ touching hers, he watched as she hissed, but she wasn’t scared, she was in the same state as him; desperate. ‘’You’re right, Doc, I feel guilty for being alive, so I try to control everything around me, but this week as been torture. I kept thinking about you’’ he admitted, he wanted to see if she was bold enough to flirt back. Y/n blushed even harder as she took her glasses off, putting them on the side table. She looked at Rosie. ‘’What were you thinking about’’ she tried to stay professional, but it was hanging by a thread. She moved her leg so their leg would touch. He looked at their legs and looked back up to her. ‘’Testing your theory with you, Doc’’ he admitted. Y/n blinked multiple times before biting her lips, again. ‘’Really?’’ she flirted, still not daring to look at him in the eyes. ‘’Dead serious, you’re all I’ve been thinking about all week’’ he leans closer to her face, he could hear her heart beating really fast. ‘’And what are you going to do about it?’’ she breathed out as her eyes trailed all over his body. He smirked; she was flirting back. ‘’I can think of a few things, but again, I’m not good at letting someone else be in control’’ he teased. ‘’I can teach you how’’ she said, against his lips. They took one last look at the other before breaking the rules and kissing each other.
He made clear that he was going to be the dominant one, but Y/n had to remind him. ‘’I’m in control, remember Rosie’’ she grins as she kisses his neck. ‘’Then show me -ah- show me how to let go’’ he breathed out. She smiled as she pushed herself on top of him, as she began to grind her hips, his hands found their way on her thighs. ‘’Let me take care of you, Rosie’’ she whispered in his ears. Y/n felt his erection on her covered core, she wanted him so much. They were both breathing heavily, he watched her breast move as she breathed. He began unbuttoning her blouse, she looked at his fingers with a smirk on her face. She kept moving her hips to a slow, sensual pace, it drove him crazy, he needed her to do something else. His knuckles were turning white, he was gripping the couch too tightly. ‘’Use your words, Major. You want me to do something, you ask’’ she breathed out, kissing his neck. He threw her blouse on the ground and kissed her collarbones. ‘’Please, Doc, ah, please do something’’ he whimpered. Y/n grins before sliding off his lap to kneel in front of him.
‘’You touch me, and I stop, got it?’’ she looked at him in the eyes. His chest was rising with pleasure, how he wanted to take control. He quickly nodded before unbuckling his belt. He let the woman take his pants and boxer off. She was surprised by his length, he was big. She licked her lips before pressing small kisses on the top. Y/n could see Rosie struggling to keep his hands to himself. He threw his head back and his pulse quickened. Y/n kept kissing the top on his length, then she brought one hand at the base of his cock and started to slowly, stoke it. She saw goosebumps on his thighs. ‘’Words, Major’’ she reminded him. ‘’I need you to suck me off, please, Doc, plea’’ his word got lost in throat when she fully took him in her mouth. He moaned in surprise, causing the woman to giggle, sending vibration on his cock. He couldn’t help it, one of his hands went in her hair, she moved her head back, taking his length out of her mouth, making Rosie whimper. ‘’No hands’’ she smirked.
Rosie wanted to say fuck those rules so bad, but he thought that she was so hot, taking control and taking care of him like that. So, he took his hand off and she resumed what she was doing. She never could’ve guessed how vocal Rosie was, whimpers, breathy moans, small growls and shaky breath, that man wasn’t afraid of making sure she knew she pleasured him. Y/n felt his length throb in her mouth, she looked up and it was a sight for sore eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing his abs, his head was thrown back and his Adam apple kept bobbing. Then, when she felt him getting close, she stopped everything. ‘’No’’ he whined. Y/n smiled and got up in front of him, stripping from her skirt. ‘’I didn’t even touch you’’ he tried to plead his case. ‘’I need to come, please, Doc, let me come’’ he begged. He looked so good like this, begging and submissive. His cheeks were red, he looked sweaty but in a hot way. ‘’You want to come, Major’’ she teased in a sensual voice. He nodded, swallowing hard. ‘’Please’’ he whispered. She got rid of her panties, he wanted to touch her so bad, so he swallowed his pride and decided to fully give her control. ‘’Can I touch you, Y/n?’’ her name rolled off his tongue like a prayer. She looked at him, smiling as she sat on the couch in front of him, she spread her legs and looked at him. He got off the couch and crawled to her, he was like a starved man. She had to stay strong, because the look he gave her as he crawled to her was enough for her to throw every ounce of feminism out the window. His eyes were dark, his mouth slightly opened, and his curls were messy. When he reached her, he trailed his hands on her bare thighs, before pulling her closer to him by the back of her thighs. She yelped, surprised by his move. ‘’Can I, please, eat you out?’’ he pleaded, looking at her in the eyes. ‘’Yes, Major’’ she breathed out. He sunk between her thighs and pressed small kisses to her inner thigh before kissing her exposed flesh.
His mouth felt so good, his mustache was adding something else, it was itching, but it felt so good. She threw her head back as her hands found his curls. He thought about playing with the same rules as hers, but she was in control. He was humming around her clit, sending vibrations that drove her mad. One of Rosie’s hands snuck up to play with her breast. She put one of her hands on top of his, she squeezed it to show him how he made her feel. Y/n arched her back as she moaned his name. But Rosie’s other hand pressed down on her stomach, adding pressure. ‘’Oh shit, Rosie, I’m close’’ she breathed out. He hummed to show her that he heard her, then decided to stop playing with her breast, he inserted one finger inside of her. ‘’Holy fuck, you’re soaking wet. Is that because you like to be in control? Uh, you like to be in charge’’ He grins, she felt hot around his finger. ‘’Yeah, right there’’ she breathed out. He looked at her, she looked like a goddess, her hair messy, her skin glowing with the coat of sweat, he could’ve come just with this sight. As he added another finger, he felt her clench around him. ‘’That’s right, come for me, pretty girl’’ he praised her. That was enough to send her over the edge, she arched her back as she was sent into pure extasy.
It took her a few minutes to recover, but when she did, she slid down the couch, to reach Rosie. He was seated against the other couch; she got on top of him. His arms were laid on the couch, he looked so ridable. ‘’Ready, Major?’’ she asked against his lips. ‘’Please, ride me’’ he sighed. Y/n positioned herself on top of him, their lips were touching, but they weren’t kissing. She sunk down on him, they both breathed out, shakily as Y/n took the time to adjust to him. ‘’Fuck’’ he moaned. He kissed her neck, to distract her from the uncomfortable stretching. When she felt ready, she began rocking her hips. ‘’Can I touch you?’’ he moaned. ‘’Yes’’ she whimpered. He places his hands on her hips, to try and guide her to a faster pace, but she denied him. She shook her head as she slowed down the rhythm. ‘’Nah, I’m still in control’’ she smirked. He pushed his tongue on his cheek as he caressed her hips. The smell of sex in the room was intoxicating. She began to rock her hips faster, because it was torture for her too. She arched her back as she kissed him sloppily. The pleasure was too much, she bit down his bottom lip, not too hard, but hard enough to send shivers down his spine. He decided that he wanted more intimacy, so he put his hands on her back and came closer to her body, he was hugging her, but the proximity allowed his pelvic bone to touch her clit and add stimulation. She put her hands in his back, scratching him in the process. The pace was fast, raw, sensual, almost animalistic. They both needed a release. ‘’I’m close, please let me come’’ he moaned in her ear. ‘’Please, please, please’’ he kept begging. Y/n’s brain started to form a sentence. ‘’Come with me, at the same time’’ she ordered. Since he was close, he decided to drop one of his hands and stimulate her clit with his fingers. Right now, she couldn’t care less about him asking permission to finger her, she was close, and he was helping her get there.
Rosie felt Y/n clench around his dick, her thighs started to shake from all this stimulation, he sucked on her neck. ‘’I’m gonna cum, c’mon pretty boy, cum with me!’’ she whined. ‘’You’re doing so good’’ she praised him. It was enough to trigger both their climax, they were a moaning mess as their body shook from pleasure. Y/n could feel his hot release throbbing inside of her and slipping on her inner thigh. They were both out of breath and glistening with sweat.
It took a minute for the both of them to come down from Nirvana. ‘’That was’’ he started, out of words to describe what just happened. ‘’See, letting someone else in charge can be fun’’ she chucked. He rolled his eyes as be playfully hit her ass. She yelped in surprise but smiled. Y/n got up first, even though she didn’t trust her legs, she got her panties back on as she sat on the couch. Rosie got up too, putting his boxers back on and sitting next to her. ‘’Thank you, Y/n, for everything’’ he said, kissing the top of her head. She smiled at the small display of affection. ‘’It was my pleasure.’’ She teased. They both laugh and look at each other. ‘’Do you think you could move my next appointment to earlier in the week?’’ he asked, making her laugh. ‘’Why?’’ she asked. ‘’Because I’m a hard learner and I’ll have to give you control again.’’
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hannahssimblr · 2 days
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“Evan, can I sit?”
He glances up at me and shrugs, patting the ground next to him so I slump down heavily on it and take a healthy gulp from my bottle. 
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“You good, man?”
“Yeah, amazing.”
“I, uh, I see you were chatting to Leah, there? You know each other?”
“Nah.”
“Really? Well... she’s a weirdo anyway, you’re better off getting away from her, like, I just sell her weed and stuff, I don’t really like when she hangs around too long.”
“Yeah, fair enough.” 
“Was she being weird with you?” 
“Nope.” 
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We’re silent as we watch the flames. I begin to wonder what time it is, and whether I've stayed long enough now for it to be acceptable to go home. As I watch all of the other friends around the fire have fun together I’m struck by how much of an outsider I really am. Sure, Rob and Katie are nice, but will any of that niceness extend into normal life with the eyes of everyone else at school upon us? Surely they will go back to the steps at the back of the school while I go back to the rugby changing rooms, or the library, as it may be and things will resume as they are, as they've always been and always will be. Realistically, would they ever be seen with me? Would I ever be seen with them? There's this weird, empty feeling in me, a feeling that just compounds day after day, month after month, year after year, and it's like I don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. I'm just floating in the in-between, and who even am I? What does it mean to even-
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“Hey,” Evan interrupts my spiralling inner dialogue, “I meant to say to you that it’s cool that you came along, you know, even when Jen and Michelle didn’t.”
This takes me by surprise, “You think?”
“Yeah, I mean, I suppose I kind of thought you were just hanging out with us sometimes because of them, and that you didn’t really want to be there, but,” a shrug, “I suppose that isn’t true.”
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“No, I like hanging out with you.”
“And it’s not just because you’ve been ostracised by your other friends?”
I hesitate for a beat, “No.”
Evan laughs, “Wow, I’m so convinced!”
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“No, come on,” I rock to the side and nudge his shoulder with mine, “Like, yeah, sometimes it’s nice to have Jen here, but I’m fine, I can handle myself around the emos… and as for Michelle, well, she hates me, so it’s actually kinda comfier when she’s not here, and- oh,” I realise immediately what I’ve said, “um, well I don’t really mean that, it-”
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“No, it’s okay,” Evan says, “I know that you two aren’t exactly best friends or anything.”
“Ah, so she’s talked to you about me.” 
“Nah, you’ve honestly never come up in conversation.”
“Somehow that’s worse.”
He snickers. 
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“How are, um,” I pick at the beer label with my thumb, “How are things going with you guys? Like, the last time we talked you were feeling kinda…”
A sigh, “Oh, yeah, it’s the same. Like, she’s so nice but sometimes I don’t feel like I get enough from her.”
“Uh huh.”
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“I kind of get a bit annoyed about it sometimes, like, how are we supposed to be together properly if I hardly see her? Like, man, she’s allowed to come to my house like, once a week. In the afternoon. And that’s the only time we can… uh, hook up or whatever. It’s so annoying.”
“Just from an outsider's perspective, you know, you seem pretty happy.”
“Yeah. She’s definitely into me,” He musses up and fixes his fringe, “I dunno. It’s fine, just sometimes I wonder about shit. You know what I mean, right?”
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“I’m probably not the best person to ask, seeing none of my relationships have worked out so far, and I’m also fairly drunk, so…”
“But you know what it’s like to be with someone who wouldn’t give you the things you needed, right?”
“Yeah, ‘course.”
“So you do get it.”
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“Mm, I suppose,” as our conversation tapers off I let my mind drift into thoughts about love and loneliness and the hollow disappointment of all of my relationships. These are bitter, useless, self destructive thoughts as usual, made even worse by the fact that I’m not exactly capable of rational thought while inebriated. Is drinking bad for me? Am I a miserable drunk? I have to physically shake myself out of my own head before I start talking myself into a hole again.
I turn to Evan to start saying something else about, I don’t know, whether he’s ever tried pranking someone by turning their school bag inside out and putting the books back into it or something stupid like that, but I see he’s distracted by something else across the bonfire. 
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It’s that girl with the pink hair. She’s leaning over a bag to rummage for more beer, and her short skirt rides up when she’s bent over like that so that her underwear is visible through the sheer material of her tights. I frown at the dirty little smirk on his face, the way hungry eyes follow her movements, and the look between them as she glances over her shoulder and sees him watching her. I nudge my knee against his to interrupt whatever is going on.
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“Wow, nice legs, huh?” 
He looks at me, surprised, but lets out a rough laugh, “Yeah, for sure.”
“Is she into you or am I just seeing things?”
“Nah, I don’t know about that.”
“Oh, c’mon, no, I’m just messing with you, she just looked like… I dunno.”
“Like what?”
I shift awkwardly, “You know what, don’t mind me, I’ve had too much to drink, I thought I detected flirting, or whatever, I guess I was wrong.”
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The girl kneels onto the ground and starts asking around for the bottle opener, and Evan doesn’t take his eyes away from her. “She’s pretty though, isn’t she?”
“Hm?”
“Carlie. That’s her name. She’s pretty, do you think?”
“She’s single?”
“Yep.”
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“So are you trying to set me up with her or are you just pointing that out?”
“I’m not trying to set you up.” Evan seems agitated by this idea that I might try to date pretty Carlie, who, by the way, treats me like I am contagious. As though it’s any of his business what she does, as if he should even care. Something sour settles in my gut, but I can’t tell whether it’s that I'm weirded out by this conversation or if the alcohol is nauseating me. 
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“Right, well, she’s not my type,” I watch his face carefully, “Is she yours?”
“She’s pretty hot.”
Maybe he's looking for my approval or my agreement, which I don’t give him on purpose. To see where it leads me I respond with a benign, “Oh, you think?”
“Uh huh,” They catch eyes again and she smiles coyly and quickly looks away to resume her conversation. That’s flirtation. She’s flirting with him, and him back, right in front of my face. 
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“You know, a lot of people would consider your girlfriend to be pretty hot too.” It’s true, I’ve heard those rugby boys saying it before, the only time they ever had anything remotely complimentary to say about any of the emos was to point out the things they fancied about Michelle and what they might like to do to her if she A. wasn’t emo, or B. nobody knew, so that they wouldn’t have to suffer the social consequences. I feel disgusted again at this memory. I know where I was, sitting on the bench lacing up my boots and saying nothing while they spoke casual filth about a girl I know. 
It’s a similar feeling to the one I have now at this bonfire with Evan, and maybe this is how he is when he’s drunk, maybe he just gets a bit… leery, but when he stares across the fire at someone who isn’t his girlfriend I swear I am looking at Willy FitzHerbert. 
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He waves my comment away, “Yeah but at least Carlie is interested in sex.”
“How do you know that?”
He leans closer, “Obviously because I’ve done it with her.”
“Yeah?” I say, “When?”
He smirks and says nothing.
I push him again. “A few years ago?”
He lowers his voice and looks at me with eyes that glitter with salacious excitement. I don’t think I’ve ever once seen another boy look so pleased with himself as he says: “Try a month ago.”
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It takes all my self control not to react. I just pause for a second as a shock of revulsion rips through my body, I feel it from my feet to the top of my head, and then, when I decide to speak, my voice is strange to my own ears, “While you were with Michelle.”
A shrug, “It just happened on a night out when she wasn’t there. I dunno.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“Course not. She’d break up with me.”
“And... you don’t want that.”
“No, because we’re in love. This stuff with Carlie, it was just… you get what I mean. It’s not like that with her.”
I sigh, “Uh, yep.”
So it appears it is the same for Evan as it is for all the others. Michelle is the virgin, Carlie is the slut and he wants it all at the same time. A girl worthy of love, and a girl interested in sex, two things that cannot converge. There is no girl that can be both.
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“It felt good to let loose with someone who knew what they were doing, and like, not have to think so hard about making the other person all safe and comfortable and, blah,” he rolls his eyes, “Carlie is cool.”
“Right, yeah, she seems it.”
“You get me, right? Guys like us, you know, we need to be able to just relax sometimes, not think so hard…”
“Yeah, for sure… Guys like us, huh?”
“Hell yeah!” He clinks his beer bottle against mine, “I knew you’d get it, honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should say something but I feel good now that you understand what I meant.”
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I try to laugh but it sounds weird and strangled, so I bring the bottle to my lips in the hope that drinking will disguise my discomfort, or at the very least numb it a bit. I finish the last two thirds of it and toss it somewhere amongst the miscellaneous rubbish, remnants of a hundred other miserable bonfire nights on Dollymount strand.  
Then, after a minute or two Evan nudges me again. It’s hard to look at him but I force myself to because it is what I would do if this situation was normal, “You’re not going to say anything, right? Like, to Michelle or Jen? Like I know you probably won’t...” A laugh as he adjusts his fringe, “That'd be insane, I know, but I wanted to make sure.”
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“Me? Nah,” I say, “Why would you even have to ask? Don’t worry about it,” I scratch the back of my head, “your, uh, your secret is safe with me.”
Beginning // Prev // Next
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Sprace- Call
MODERN AU TW: Swearing??
(I've never posted on here lol)
Spot cringed as his phone call was answered. Usually, it just went straight to the far too familiar  “Hi it’s Racetrack! Don’t leave a message!” voicemail to hurt him even more with the fact that he was either blocked, or Race was declining all his calls. A harsh ‘What do you want?’ may not have been ideal, but Spot still smiled softly at the sound of his ex’s voice.
"Hey…Race," He started. The same words he had said almost every day a month ago. Throwing his bag down as he got back from work, striking up conversations at 2 a.m even though they both needed to be up early, Starting a call much like this one if anything happened. "Do you still have my white shirt with the sleeves?" 
When Race’s phone displayed Spot’s caller ID, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, maybe an explanation that it was a dare, or maybe some tearful confession about how his love never died. Anything with more emotion than requesting an old shirt.
“Um… I’ll look around.” The conversation was too stiff, too formal. Race fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt that definitely wasn’t Spot’s (it was) that he was wearing and paced around the couch he slept on. 
“What do you need it for?”
He’d never admit it, but Race missed Spot more than he could tell. Hearing his voice again was painful, but something to feel. He had been a mess the last month, living with his best friend, missing sleep and working his ass off to help pay the rent when it was paying the rent that got him into this mess. Spot had walked out after the topic of money had come up, only after many anger-clouded words had been thrown between him and Race. Just thinking about it, Race could taste the regret and adrenaline and feel the knot of codependency tighten as it had done that night when he realized how alone and helpless he was. Even though he hadn’t anticipated a break-up, it wasn’t like Race was expecting-
“A wedding,” Spot answered coldly and quickly. Dwelling on love around him wasn’t going to help him swallow the lump in his throat.
He regretted walking out every day. He knew deep down, that he could’ve walked back in at any moment with nothing fixed, another argument ignored, but weeks passed and Race lost the apartment he could only afford with Spot’s help. Spot lost the one stable thing in his life, the one person he felt like he could talk to, the stupidity, wittiness, energy and affection that came with Race and he missed it more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was his chance to salvage any scraps of a relationship but didn’t know how to begin. 
“I’m sorry.” It was a struggle to force the words out of his mouth, but Spot managed to sound a lot more stable than he felt. 
Race’s reply was so emotionless it hurt. No sadness, not even a quiver in his voice, no hope. Just a bland question reminding Spot he’d made more than enough mistakes;
“About what?” 
“Um, This. Calling you, acting like nothing’s happened, acting like I don’t care.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone and Spot knew he would have to address the elephant in the room.
“...And leaving. I was- I am so stupid for walking out. It sounds pathetic but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I really lo- I really loved you.” 
Race’s soft smile threatened to fall at the use of past tense.  His mind tried to object, but a smirk tugged at his lips and words crawled out.
“You miss me.”  He observed, a mix of teasing and astonishment now unmistakable in his voice
“No, I just really want my shirt,” Spot said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if Race could see him over the phone.  “Yes, I fucking miss you.”
Spot hated himself for giving in that easily. But at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere or anyone for that matter.
Warm hope bloomed through Race at the less-than-heartfelt confession, sudden longing for the one person he thought he’d never be allowed to long for again. A million hazy emotions flew through his mind but he couldn’t articulate everything he was feeling and couldn’t force every heavy sentiment through the phone. He needed to know this was genuine before pouring his heart out. 
Spot’s finger was over the ‘End Call’ button when Race interrupted their silence, “But you said-”
“I said a lot of things,” Spot cut him off, “We both did. But I’d bet this month's rent you didn’t mean half of it.” 
Race wanted to object, but it was true. He hadn’t meant anything close. And while he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t regret it again, heavy words slid off his tongue;
“I miss you too. But look, we can’t just…go back to whatever we had a month ago.”
“Bad communication and not-yet-healed commitment issues?”
Race exhaled deeply, “Yeah, that. But I can’t- I mean- I’ve got your shirt. Please just come and get it so we can at least talk in person.” 
Spot running down apartment stairs full speed to reunite with his ex-boyfriend was probably something countless medical professionals would advise against but, quite frankly, he was more than willing to break a wrist or two for another shot. He managed a couple of breathless words that were essentially just ‘See you soon’ before falling into his car in a haze of nerves and emotions pretty damn close to excitement. Serious conversations weren’t his forté but were better than a familiar voicemail.
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tiny-tk · 2 days
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hi friends !! bit of a different post this time, but i wanna talk about disney and it’s place in the agere community.
i won’t get into specifics, but events in palestine r making a lot of people (including me) decide to boycott disney by not doing anything that lets them make money. if you don’t know about this, i rly rly encourage you to do ur own research (ideally while not in little space since it’s .. very rough topics) and make ur own choice on wether or not u wanna support them after knowing the full story of what’s going on n disney’s involvement.
this post is for littles who feel conflicted by the calls for a boycott!!
first of all, i know it can be scary to find out that something you’ve been giving money to for merch or subscriptions or whatever is going to a bad place. but no one is blaming you for that, and if you didn’t know then you didn’t know. but you can always change!!
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"why are people boycotting disney?"
i won't go in depth to keep this post little-safe, but essentially the israeli military is currently doing terrible things to the people of palestine, and disney is helping them fund and promote it. here's a couple links that go more in-depth if you want to learn, but i'd recommend not reading them while regressed:
https://insidethemagic.net/2023/11/disney-israel-palestine-boycott-jc1/
https://www.dailygamecock.com/article/2023/12/column-why-boycotting-for-palestine-gaza-is-important-opinion-vanderhorst#:~:text=There%20are%20currently%20three%20main,financially%20or%20through%20public%20statements.
but i mostly encourage you to try n find out on your own, rather than listening to some random tumblr user about it.
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“but disney is a huge comfort source for me.”
this doesn’t have to change. you don’t have to stop liking their movies n shows. you don’t have to stop loving your toys or books of disney characters. if something brings you comfort, that is sacred, and no one can take that away. a lot of disney media made me who i am today, and yet i’m still writing this post against the company, these things can both be true !!
similarly, agere is a safe space for so many people, which can be used to justify supporting things that really don't deserve our support, since people want to protect themselves by not finding out why. put bluntly, people knowing that there are problems, but choosing to ignore them, is part of the problem itself. if you feel at all capable of educating yourself, please do. it's so important.
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“ok, so what can i do?”
if you’ve decided to join the boycott, that’s wonderful!! all that is being asked, is to not spend money on anything from disney. so branded food, toys, a disney+ subscription, stuff like that. if you’re used to doing that a lot, here’s some alternatives!
. :+* get disney toys second hand - they’re pre-loved!! they’ve already started a life with someone, and they’re eager to continue it with a new kid
. :+* pirate shows n movies instead !! this can be a little tricky to figure out, but it’s how i watch pretty much everything hehe, and can be a lot of fun! alternatively, you could just borrow a friend’s subscription or buy dvds second hand if you have a dvd player.
. :+* get merch from independent sellers. this way, you still get brand new things with ur favorite disney characters, but you also get to support independent creators n not support disney the brand !! also, these are often higher quality than official products too, which is like bonus points.
. :+* if you're posting about somethin disney related, add a note that lets people know that you don't support the brand n encourages ppl to find out why for themselves
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it’s a tough change to make, but any help is better than no help. if you aren’t sure what i’m talking about, please do your own research. the scale of what’s happening in palestine is huge, and boycott movements like this have been proven to cause real positive change in the past. i won’t get mad at anyone for choosing not to boycott, but it’s important to me that as many people as possible consciously make that choice for themselves, instead of blindly following a company that’s using their money to hurt people.
hearing about terrible things happening is exhausting, regardless of how much you're doing to help. but try to remember that any action is better than nothing, especially with activism, and keep doing whatever you can. <3 take care of yourselves friends !!
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sluttyten · 4 months
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My afraid-of-romance ass has just been asked by another regular customer for my number and the stupid thing is that again I do think this guy is kinda cute and I really probably should say yes
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lattesqueeze · 5 months
Note
🗣️WIP RANT WIP RANT🗣️
I’d love to hear anything about your favorite WIP, or you can answer some of these prompts:
1. What’s the main ship and/or dynamic?
2. What inspired you? Convo with a mutual, music, etc.
3. How long have you been working on this project?
4. What’s your favorite line you’ve written/planned so far?
5. What concept came to you first, the plot or the characters?
6. What are you finding challenging about this WIP?
THANK YOU OML 🫶🏻
My current favourite wip is very little more than a concept at the moment, which is a Lestappen fic (no surprises lol) that I think was inspired by a tweet or a tumblr post. The secondary inspiration that solidified the concept/plot was the recent press conference when our Charlie was high out of his mind on painkillers and kept giggling and chatting with Max.
It stems from them being much younger and still karting, and one thing leads to another and they kiss. And promptly never speak of it again. Buuuut they both think of it all the time. As they grow up, they encounter some deja vu and find themselves kissing again and, shock!, it’s just as good as they remembered and more.
(Answering about this actually helped me formulate a lot of the background plot so thank you!!)
HOWEVER I also want an excuse to post this excerpt from a separate Landoscar wip, just bc I like it :’) I’ll put it under a cut so it doesn’t clog anyone’s dash!
Ten!
Shit. Lando shoved his way out of the kitchen he had found himself in, scanning every face for the soft cheekbones or warm brown eyes he had come to recognise.
Nine!
A girl Lando had definitely hooked up with before caught his arm, and tried to pull him in another direction, but he brushed her off.
Eight! Seven! Six!
Lando set his half-finished drink down and rubbed at his eyes. He was determined not to let Oscar go into 2023 alone among strangers. He just had to find him first.
Five!
Oscar wasn’t in the bathroom, or the one bedroom Lando hazarded a peek into.
Four!
One job, Lando. One job. Keep Oscar safe while showing him a good time. And, somehow, he had managed to lose him at the most crucial time of the party.
Three!
Lando burst out of the apartment and onto the balcony, where only a few partygoers were stood. The night was cool, but not unbearable, though Lando shivered a little as he stepped outside.
Two!
There he was. Thank God. Lando spied the sandy blond wave of hair and crisp white shirt, stood right by the railing, gazing out over the city. He rushed over to Oscar, and put his hand on his arm, making Oscar jump.
One!
The crowd around them erupted into cheers, popping open champagne and kissing their other halves. Without thinking twice, Lando grabbed Oscar by the back of the neck and kissed him, hard. He felt Oscar tense up for just a moment - just long enough for him to panic and regret the risky manoeuvre. But, milliseconds later, Oscar’s hands found their way to Lando’s waist, and he was kissing him back. The fireworks exploding across the city around them echoed the fireworks in Lando’s mind. When they finally broke apart to breathe, Lando grinned dopily at Oscar.
“Happy New Year, new teamie.” Lando said, almost into Oscar’s mouth, before kissing him again.
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arthur-r · 7 months
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genuinely how does someone succeed in college when you’re so terrified of being incorrect or looking stupid that you can’t even say anything to begin with???? i was trying to go into this year brave and everything but i’ve already been laughed at multiple times by a class full of people older and scarier than me and i already feel like i’m being judged and underestimated for so many reasons that i don’t want to give anyone another reason to look at me that way. but it’s gotten to the point (in the less than one week that classes have been in session; maybe it’s always been at the point) where i’m failing to submit assignments because i know that my teacher is going to see it and think i’m stupid, and never listen to me again, and i’m going to lose all the credibility that i’m trying so desperately to hold onto. and i know from a logical standpoint that it’s the teacher’s job to meet people where they’re at and lift them up from there, but honestly is that much even true anymore?? isn’t college about figuring out who has what it takes and who is going to get left behind???? why did i enroll in fucking honors classes of course i can’t do this???? i’m really not feeling well and i stayed in tonight and missed dinner and i miss home and i miss being able to talk to my friends and not be actively ruining my future. i feel like i’m always good until i’m not, and i don’t realize i need help until i’m too far in and by the time i get it, i won’t need it anymore but i’ll have ruined everything back when things were worse. i’m isolating from my roommate (who hates me because he thinks i hate him) and losing every friend i’ve started to make at the same time as i’m losing all the real friendships that i already have. and my roommate is across the room right now as i’m quietly fucking crying. and i want to go home and i want to be safe. and why is everything so unfamiliar and simple and wretchedly complicated.
#im really not feeling well. i want to go home and im not used to that at all#i miss my little sister. i miss my teachers and i miss my friends. im not used to this#what prompted all of this: i was trying to do my linguistics homework and i made it about an hour in coming up with faulty hypotheses#and i realized that far of the way through. that the only dialects i’m fucking familiar with are all fucking variations of north central#‘whoa somebody talks similar in anchorage as they do in taylor’s falls?? it must signify a deep linguistic thread traceable over generations#they’re just both right next to fucking canada???? of course they fucking sound similar???? the fact that i don’t know anyone from the east#or the south and even the people i know in the west are still the same fucking thing we all talk the fucking same#i know village english that’s a little fucking interesting but it’s not like i have any INSIGHT i don’t KNOW anything!!!!#told my french teacher i’m learning latin he asked me if it’s fucking ecclesiastical because once you’re in college it’s just normal i guess#i just feel like. yes i’m here because some part of me stood out from my peers. but in this group of special people?? i’m nothing!!!!#so i’m really struggling. and i want a hug and i wish things were different. i want to be here but i don’t feel like i deserve it#and i’m not going to get anything done if i keep feeling like this#i dont know. i hope everyone is doing well. sorry for the extra stress it’s just really difficult and strange#i hope everyone has a good night - i’m heading to bed soon#me. my post. mine.#friends only#vent cw#delete later#and everyone here speaks fcuking MANDARIN or something and all of a sudden my five years of french feels fucking basic.#kids who have been in advanced programs since birth. the imposter syndrome is fucking PALPABLE!!!! i want to go home and i want to forget#okay i’m done. im done!!!! everything is fine. hope everyone is well
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I asked for help but I know everyone’s busy. They’re all dealing with their own problems anyway.
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I wish I were a nicer person and I try to be but fuck I just get so tired of always putting my issues and shit aside to be there for other people and I wish I were nice enough to not resent that and get frustrated and impatient about there never being room for my shit. I wish I weren’t selfish for resenting people I care about who are struggling because they are not there for me and no one was ever there for me, I just had to get through it on my own because no one ever gave a shit about me. I wish I could be nicer and not be so selfish but fuck I just want someone to be there for me once in my fucking life and not always the other way around with me having to go crawling after people begging for their affection or attention. Or shoving my issues and hurt aside because theirs are worse and more urgent
I hate myself for being so resentful. I just wish I could be nicer
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munamania · 2 years
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sorry bitterness consumes the soul etc etc <33 i will say though. depending on what is going through her head this could all be really fucking cruel lmfao
#like. alright. idk if she Knows i have feelings for her but given the whole blocked stories thing and whatever like. who knows#what bf said. and whether she is or was at any point genuinely confused or something because she does like him but we. hit it off. and it#was all just a Lot. like that doesn’t give the excuse for the times when it felt like she was sorta.. leading me on. yk. though maybe i was#truly delusional and stupid last semester i don’t know. maybe she just also enjoys talking to me on a friendly level and that’s fine and all#but it’d be really weird if she like. also refuses to acknowledge me outside of class? or anything like that..#or like. basically was just using me to stroke her ego in that sense if she does Know. like that would be shitty#would i like to be friends sure do i think this would absolutely crush my soul probably.#and i’d like to say ohh i don’t think she’s doing xy or z but i truly don’t know her. you know. beyond the little bits#of time we’ve had to talk about our lives and whatever#and anyway. it is stupid that i’ve spent so long trying to guess at what’s on her mind cause i’ll never know unless you know.#we’re ever close enough that we can talk about it or. whatever.#so. i definitely think when i see her again i’m going to take any chance i can to say something about last semester. um yk. in a way that#makes sense i’m not just insane. though i do hope that i can subtly make boyfriend seem really paranoid and weird. sorry. lol. but he was!#honestly if i were hitting on her or trying to make a move i’d understand him being like that but i was polite and friendly#so he has no business getting involved in my personal feelings! yeah i#don’t like him yeah i have feelings for his gf but you get what i mean i’m not. Trying to be an asshole here.#do i wish they’d break up? if she’s not happy. but am i going to like literally be a homewrecker? obviously not again who knows#if i even have the sway to. SORRY i’m being soooo insane one thing about me i can talk about a topic#a million times. anyway.#i just hope it’s not insane emotional manipulation or anything on anyones part i don’t know.#we have a really easy banter so i think it’ll be easy enough to talk to her and then hopefully. have a little bit more clarity as to where#we stand. yk.#abby talks#might delete this later if i decide i’m being a little tooooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#i guess what i’m trying to say is. because this isn’t all the clear and obviously it’d be fine if we’re just friends. but the way we#interact is a little. idk. like we tease each other a lot and it’s like girl idk u tho… i’m having fun but huh?
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itsukicoded · 2 years
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❣️.
#can i be annoying on main???? i would love some validation n reassurance from time to time#idk why i feel so weird rn haha#it just feels like…#a mix between ‘damn is this all there is’ ‘damn it’s already over?’ ‘damn there’s so much left to do’ and ‘damn im running out of time’#kind of this ‘god……what have I even done with my life’ with a little bit of ‘nothing ive ever done has meaning’#so like. existential crisis in the summer like always <3#but hurts more after she had said to me ‘u just say stuff bc u wanna feel special’ really sent me into a ‘i mean nothing’ type of spiral aha#which ik only bothers me bc of my aquarius moon but also how can u not think your friends are special???? neither here nor there neither her#nor there regardless im constantly worrying abt wasting my life by not doing the things i wish for…i do feel like damn i guess i really cant#do anything guess im really not good at anything at all! nothing abt me is different than anyone else i just get snubbed out like i always#do maybe this is just a big family kind of issue i don’t have any talents so all the things i want to do will never get recognized in the#way i want them to—that’s how that one tiny little sentence made me feel isn’t tht so fucked and dramatic?#and so im sitting here spiraling wondering what else there is left for me here#i dunno i don’t feel well rn idk why i agreed to call my friend but she really might help me feel better in her own way i never feel worse#after talking with her so maybe this is smart#ah wow am i 14??? this is so
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the-trans-dragon · 2 years
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#sorenhoots#soren rambles lol#I am really pretty tired of my current existence! not in a sad way—almost in an exciting way? like. I am at least learning I’m not happy#here!!! which is better than not knowing I guess#my job is really pointless and meaningless but at least I don’t feel tied to it. yknow except because money#I don’t fit here :( new hires make friends in a week that I haven’t made in 11 months#it feels like everything I do is wrong#and yknow maybe that’s just part of being an autistic person in a work environment#but like. dang if my jobs gonna be miserable and if my landlord is being so cruel??? I’d never let anyone else talk to me that way#and every day i have little bits of happiness from hanging out with my polycule and that’s honestly it#so like :/ why am I living in this city if there isn’t a scrap of joy?#I don’t know how to move :/ I don’t know how to leave family behind or rent a uhaul or take such a big chance with such a high risk of#failure: not finding a job; not having family to fall back on; not knowing anyone; not being able to see my mom; not being able to find a#good apartment…. it scares me so much#to think about all the things I could do to change my life because they’re all so HARD#but I… I… I don’t want the life I have right now if I could trade it for a better one#I just want to grow old and die knowing I did my best to be happy and make my loved ones happy and not make the world any worse#but every single day is a million decisions about how to do that#and I’m quite afraid of everything#I’m as aftaid of actions as I am nonactions#I’m afraid of moving but I’m afraid of staying stuck#the world is such a deadly place and I am scared if I leave my little safety zone I’ll never find another#but god is it suffocating in here#😥
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insanechayne · 8 months
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~ ~ ~
#you’ve usually sent me a message by now#but today I wake up for work and I’ve got nothing from you#and I know I probably won’t hear from you until close to midnight and then we’ll barely get to talk at all#because that’s what always seems to happen these days#idk sometimes lately it feels like I’m having to chase you or beg for your friendship or something like that#and it really sucks and kinda hurts and makes me feel stupid#you’re still my best friend and I still want to talk to you as much as possible#I’m still happy that you at least keep up the small effort of talking to me every single day because that’s our thing#but really how hard is it to send a message? you don’t have 20 minutes in your busy day to just sit and type something to me?#I’m not belittling how busy you may actually be I’m just pointing this out#and you still don’t want to have any connection aside from here and it’s like… idk I don’t want to be friends across a screen forever#I wonder if you still think of me as a secret even though you say we’re just friends#you can’t have it both ways and it’s starting to really fuck me up#because I’m trying to move on with my life and be a good partner to my girlfriend#but you still keeping me a secret has that glint of hope that you still want me and will one day use me again#and that’s not really healthy for anyone but especially not me and my new relationship#how do I bring this up to you? how do I talk to you and move forward if you barely speak to me anymore as it is?#because every time you are here we have so little time and you have so much else going on that I feel guilty about wanting to bring this up#I don’t want to topple this stable place we’re in with our friendship#and I don’t want to be bringing the mood down when I know you’ve been busy and tired etc#so then when can I ever get it out? when can I discuss these issues with you and start to find closure?#I don’t know what else to do about this except keep waiting you out for my opportunity in whatever form that takes#personal
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suguann · 1 month
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There comes a point where Simon finally admits that he hates your new boyfriend—not that he’s liked any of your past relationships over the years, but this one he’s more vocal about—with a name not worth remembering. Matt? Martin?
He’d stopped trying after his first week back from work.
“I don’t fucking trust him,” he says one night while at the pub right under your apartment; it’s become a weekly ritual of sorts when he’s on leave ever since meeting you there on Soap’s birthday several years back. 
“You say that about every guy I have you meet,” you tell him in that know-it-all voice that you always use with him. “You hardly even know him, and his name’s Marcus, by the way. It wouldn’t kill you to use it.”
He snorts. “Love, the bloke would put his cock in anyone with tits and a warm cunt.”
“He wouldn’t,” your voice is soft because maybe you already know.
He would.
You’re so fucking oblivious that you don’t even realize this, but there’s nothing except stars in your eyes whenever you look at (or even talk about) the Naval officer who thinks he’s some bigshot because he can fly a plane. 
Even now, at your boyfriend’s promotion after-party in some back alley nightclub, he’s hardly talked to you or offered to get you a drink. You’re always too nervous to order one by yourself, and only Simon—tall and imposing standing beside you—could have the grumpiest bartender reach for the blender to make a blended cocktail. 
When he comes back with your drink—too big fingers unfolding the tiny umbrella for you—he watches your boyfriend (Marcus) flirt with a girl in a tight leather dress on the other side of the room. It’s that moment that he decides he’s tired of you giving your attention to someone who doesn’t deserve it, tired of you lying belly up for men who only want to sink their teeth into you and leave once they’ve had their fill. 
He likes to think he’s a pretty good friend—opening your eyes to something better is a job he takes rather seriously.
“It’s just a bit of fun,” he says after coming back with your third margarita, a small amount of frothy liquid sloshing over the side when he sets it down in front of you. “It’s okay to want it.”
You bite your lip, eyes dropping down to where he’s patting his thigh. “Just fun?”
“Yes, love.” He smiles. “Just fun.”
Let me.
Whether you’re tipsier than he thought or he’s just really persuasive, it’s easy to get you crawling into his lap in the corner of the cracked leather booth. His hands wander the span of your smooth thighs where your short skirt doesn’t reach, and he muffles a groan in your shoulder when you start squirming against the tent in his jeans.
You say his name like a warning when his hands find their way under your skirt, yet you’re biting back a moan and don’t tell him to stop.
Simon undoes his jeans and shifts them down before pushing up the back of your skirt and adjusting your hips to watch the tip of his dick slide between the covered cleft of your ass. Nobody in the room can see what the both of you are doing with your skirt fanning around his lap, but someone could if they were truly looking, and that has him tugging your panties to the side so he can feel you.
"Your boyfriend is too stupid to realize you're sitting here riding my lap. What do you think he'd say if he saw you like this?"
 “W-wait, Simon!” you squeak. “What if he sees—”
He’s almost tempted to roll his eyes at your blind devotion—I’ll deal with it—dealing with it would be him making sure the prick never tries talking to you again.
Then, his fingers, like iron at your hips, jerk you back to impale you on his cock. "Fuck," he says, voice trembling around the edges.
“O-oh! It’s too—ah—too big!”
He wraps a hand around the slender slope of your throat, fingers digging into vulnerable flesh as he pulls you back until his lips are at your ear, nose pressing into the soft skin of your cheek. “Come on, love. I know you can take the whole thing. Right inside this tight cunt.”
Simon thrusts into you shallowly, just the tip going in and out, and you whine, little fingers scrabbling at his wrist—gasping and shivering and bucking in the trap of his arms.
A smirk curls at the edges of his mouth when he finally bottoms out in your hot-wet cunt for your boyfriend to see from the other side of the room. He'd laugh at how his jaw drops, but he can only manage little choked intakes of air at the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him.
“Squeeze my cock for me—fuck, there you go.” He presses a kiss below your ear and reaches down to pet your soaked clit with his thumb. Feels the moment you realize that your boyfriend is watching when you tense up.
“I’ll deal with it,” he says again and again until you’re melting into him, thighs trembling around his. “Promise. I promise…”
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I apologize if you see this again! I was trying to edit it, and it wouldn't format right with the gif. You can find part two here.
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whimsyprinx · 1 year
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i do wish that people wouldn’t reach out only because I’m upset and they felt obligated to do so, similarly I wish people wouldn’t ignore or avoid me because “you seemed like you were in a bad place and I thought you needed space” especially without saying so, you’re not obligated to speak to me (see first point) but like being avoided makes me feel worse especially when I’m not even told about it, what I want is to feel genuinely wanted and not to be spoken to out of pity or ignored for similar reason.
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