#and if me and my mom could move out and live on our own i would do that in a heartbeat
hey everyone, i won’t be as active for a while. got home last night super late after being on the road for 20 some odd hours. dealing with some family things and as an older sister, my priority of taking care of my siblings comes first before anything else. being on here is amazing for me but i don’t think i’ll have much time for it. reminder to please treat those in your life who are battling addiction with patience and care. i lost my older brother (sweetest person i’ve ever known and he remained that way up until his last night) to suicide and alcoholism, trauma and ptsd, depression and his feelings of hopelessness. talk with the people you care about. another of my siblings is dealing with the same and i refuse to let it escalate to such a terrifying end twice in less than a fucking year. remind the people you care about that there are beautiful things to live for. show them kindness and love. there is all kinds of misinformation out there but know this, you can make a difference for someone. don’t let them suffer in silence.
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So the three of us just had the official talk about all moving in together when Robbie and I finally buy a house, in front of James no less lmao
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I need more people to understand that telling someone they need to give up every shred of happiness in order to not be homeless - to sacrifice all their hobbies, all their friends, any chance at a relationship/family, and all of their free time, to the point it destroys their overall health, is just a recipe for suicide.
You're not actually getting me to "work harder" every time you punish me in such a manner. You're just increasing the likelihood of me making the final judgement that life isn't worth living anymore.
If I can't afford to live in a van down by the river, let alone a basic-ass studio apartment, despite working anywhere between full-time to 70+ hours a week, then maybe it's time to acknowledge I am not the issue here. Rent inflation is.
I already work a decently paying college job, and it's still not enough. I could eliminate all spending and try to live entirely off ramen noodles, and it still wouldn't be enough. I could sell everything I have (which isn't much) and it still wouldn't be enough. Moving farther out isn't an option because nowhere in my state is currently affordable, and the farther out you go, the less you get paid. I have no kids and no other debts, and it's still not enough.
If the only reason you're able to stay afloat right now is because you were gifted/inherited property, or were able to secure property prior to either the 2008 or 2020 housing crisis, then you're not a better citizen than everyone else, you're just lucky.
I was a minor in 2008. I was homeless multiple times between 2010-2018, prior to finally being able to get my own place, despite still working full-time. (A lot of which had to do with abusive parents and an lying, manipulative ex). And while I had my own apartment prior to the pandemic, and during portions of it, the lack of renter protections meant my landlord tripled my rent without consequence. And when my landlord died (of Covid), everyone who lived there got evicted so that they could up-sell the building into weekly rentals for the super rich tourists.
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Thinking about Mountains of Mourning got me rereading it again for the millionth time. Every time I think, 'surely by now it has no hold of me? I know every turn it takes, can damn near recite parts of it.' And here I am, sobbing.
The story itself is beautiful, the language is gorgeous, but there is also something in the setting that speaks to me personally.
Our family farm is in a community smaller than silvy vale, and has been in the family for at least a couple of centuries. It's in the least populated and most backwater part of the country. And my country itself is small and insignificant, sparsely populated, mostly wilderness. In the eyes of some we may be backwater forest folk, tough as our land and just as stuck in our ways.
And I am a very tied-to-the-earth person. I am at home barefoot in the forest, fishing in the lakes, foraging in the swamps, working with animals, chopping wood. These forests are my forests, this land is my land. I was born on it and if I have to be buried, I want to be buried in it. I've never wanted to leave for better pastures. I've wished I could hold my home and my people up.
So though I cry for the beauty of the language and the message, and the grief of the plot, I also cry for the happy ending that Silvy Vale receives.
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its literally so insane that my brother has like parents who arent young like thats insane... they were 34 when they had him... they were 20 when they had me which like isnt Insanely young but its still young yk. young enough that ppl r like Omg yr parents r so young ! when i say how old they are... but theyre gonna be 40 next year WHICH IS CRAZY. 40 year old parents hes like a kid from a disney channel show.
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in hindsight i do see how saying thats a lie instead of something like thats not true or just being like no i bought it contributed to the pressure cooker of the situation but i still get mad when i think about this
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i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of the band's logo on your ribs. you got it when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.
my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.
but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.
oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.
you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.
when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you've woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.
oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.
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i'll tell you what converted me to being all-in on keeping cats indoors only:
living for a year and a half in a rural area with a sudden feral cat colony explosion on the property.
i moved in with my folks for a bit and at that time, one (1) stray cat mama had taken up residence on the property, but was too feral to let my mother anywhere near her. but especially after she brought three kittens around, mom fed her and the kittens in hopes they'd grow trusting enough she could catch for spay and neuter at the minimum. momcat stayed mean and hella wary, but the kittens would hang around a little nearer and play with my mom via long stick, but still wouldn't come close enough to touch or catch.
unfortunately, two of the three kittens were girls and started having kittens of their own before further progress was made, shortly after i moved in. and that was pretty much instant doom.
there were so many kittens. SO MANY. multiple litters. every time we turned around, more kittens.
we fed them. we hunted for and located the kittens every time anywhere on the property and would move them to a repurposed doghouse anytime a mama cat had them somewhere else, so that they could grow up human-socialized and we could spay/neuter them when they were old enough. (also it was a handy tactic to push the issue of the mamas getting more used to/trusting of us themselves. only really worked with one of them, though.)
and we watched them die.
we watched litter after litter of kittens never make it to the age they could be spayed or neutered. the moms stayed, for the longest time, too skittish to more than briefly touch, much less catch and crate for a vet visit.
it sounds like a silly joke to say i have kitten-related ptsd, but i absolutely do.
too many goddamn times i'd walk out of the garage and find the carport and gravel drive strewn with tiny bodies. others simply went missing, never to be found.
one in particular, i wish i hadn't found, and the visual literally haunts me still, almost a decade later.
i saw so many kittens die of snake bite, spider bite, wild dogs, birds of prey, hit by cars, respiratory illness, covered in fleas and eyes crusted with infection.
and we loved them all. scrimped for antibiotics if the vet could be convinced to give it to us despite our being unable to bring them in. bought flea collars and ointments. we cared for them and fed them and petted them and played with them, brushed their fur and cleaned up their little faces, put ice in their water in hot summer, rigged a heating lamp in their house in the winter.
and they died. horribly. that property is pocked with unmarked graves of kittens and cats.
all the best intentions, not enough resources, and it didn't matter anyways because the population went from three to almost twenty (at times, over thirty) in the blink of an eye.
they died and died and died. our hearts broke over and over again. the stress and anxiety wore us down like sandpaper. i think, by the end of it all, we managed to find less than 10 of them all homes, including batman the disabled kitten i found a home across the country through tumblr.
it was carnage and tragedy, frankly. and we were helpless.
it only ended because they started dying faster than they could be born, and because we finally caught the two remaining mom cats in traps and got them spayed.
the points about outdoor cats being invasive predators devastating to local wildlife populations is true and valid and important.
but i know cat people, and cat people who don't know better than to let cats outdoors. what matters to you is the cat itself, generally. the cat being happy and taken care of.
keeping cats outdoors, letting them outdoors, is not taking care of the cats. it's not protecting them. it's not giving them any happiness or invigoration that couldn't be provided to them as indoor-only pets with just a little research and effort.
they die. they get ill. they get hurt. they're at risk of predators, and cars, and disease, and carelessly cruel children and deliberately cruel adults. they're at risk of disappearing on you because someone else saw a cat outdoors and intervened to give it a better, safer life not in conflict with the local environment.
and if that offends and angers you that someone would just take a cat they saw roaming outdoors, even collared, and that it sounds like i'm endorsing that, i am, but not if you intervene and be that person yourself for your own cat.
if what matters to you is doing right by your cat because it's family and a living creature whose happiness and health and safety is important to you,
keep them indoors. not part time. always. exclusively.
edit: since apparently i need to clarify this, i'm saying cats should live inside, that they should not live outdoors, even part time. visiting the outdoors supervised on a leash or in an enclosed catio is not the same as even part-time living outside, and i am certainly not advocating against it.
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cooking up some fun with the sainz’
dad!carlos sainz jr x wife!mom!reader
summary - y/n sainz is a successfully famous chef with her own restaurant and ever since covid, she has been cooking on instagram live once a week. fans adore the sweet interactions between her and carlos and their little baby girl.
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“mi amor, i am about to go live while cooking dinner,” you nod over from behind the kitchen counter, towards your husband whos sitting on the couch. he sets down his phone and turns to face you while you continue, “if you could just keep up with santana while i’m doing so, you know i still don’t want her face all over the media, porfa,”
“por supuesto, cariño. but you do know you don’t have to ask me to watch our child,” he lets out a chuckle as he stands, sauntering over to the kitchen where you are finishing wiping down the counters and adding extra tidiness to your lived-in kitchen. he slowly grabs both of your hands from the counter, removing the cleaning spray and rag, and intertwining your fingers. you inched closer to him and rested your head against his chest. carlos plants a soft kiss onto the top of your head as you begin your reply, “i know, carlos, but i just don’t want her running around the kitchen which is dangerous or having her face pop up more onto my screen than it already has. she’s four, she doesn’t deserve to be subjected to our lifestyle just yet,” you let out your vulnerable admission as carlos lets your left hand go and steadily strokes the back of your head instead.
“i know, i’ll keep a close eye on her,” your husband looks down at you with a quick smile before he eases you more, ”you have nothing to worry about,” with his last word he begins to bend down in order to place a kiss onto your lips.
“EWW!” your four year old yells out from the bottom of the stairs. she had very obviously just woken up from her nap with her dark hair flying in all different directions, her favorite meerkat plushie hanging from her grasp, and most importantly, a very happy piñon trailing behind her. ever since she was born, the dog followed santana absolutely everywhere. call it protection or just puppy love, it was still the cutest part of your little family.
“and when did you wake up, señora?” you pull apart from your husband with a laugh in order to look at your daughter properly, but don’t miss carlos’ pleading gaze to ignore your daughters wishes and give him a kiss. you took one more glance back at him and kissed his cheek to meet in the middle as he released his signature smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
“ahora,” she responds while rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and slowly beginning to trudge over to the couch.
“mama is about to begin dinner, mija. why don’t you and i find a game to play while she does?” your husband proposes.
“okay, papi,” she says quietly before she gains some energy, “but only if we get to play hide and seek!” she squeals out in excitement. carlos laughs as you move around his hold to set up your phone and put away your cleaning supplies.
his voice graces a higher octave, one saved particularly for your pride and joy, while matching her adorable enthusiasm, “hide and seek! santana, that is a great idea! how could i not have thought of it?” he laughs along with her as she pulls herself to stand up on the couch, legs bouncing underneath her.
“no se, papi! but i thought of it! so we do it?” she asks, looking up at him with her big, brown, wide eyes inherited from the man himself as he strolls over to her place. your husband easily scoops her up into a fit of giggles as he runs her into his office in order to plan out their game. you take this brief moment of quiet to begin the live, and continue to pull out your necessary ingredients as people begin to join.
once enough people had joined, you share a bright smile and begin your discussion, “hola, everyone! today we are venturing over to italy for our dinner, and making some homemade pizza,” you begin to take out tomatoes and slice them as you carry on, “it sounds very simple, yet you can make it anything you want with toppings, which is the magic of cooking,” you glance up at the camera to notice the brief display of comments and continue to explain, “everything is going to be homemade here, the sauce, the dough, and the cheese! it’s a great meal especially when you have a little one who is just now becoming a bit picky,” you let out a chuckle as you think on to the many ‘no’s’ that came from your four year old as you presented her with different cuisines. one that never misses will always be pizza.
“okay! i already made my dough last night since i knew i’d be pretty busy today, but i do have a video on how to make that if you want to know, it’s on my story in the highlights of my 'how to's',” you finished chopping up all your tomatoes and threw them into the pan with a bit of oil, “now we’re working on the sauce, so i just chopped up maybe a cup and half - ‘measure with your heart’ - as my abuela always told me, of tomatoes and toss it into a low/medium heated pan with some olive oil to cook it down,” you were about to continue, but instead were interrupted by a little giggle at your feet. you looked down at your smiling daughter as she reached a finger up to her lips in order for you to keep her location a secret. you shot her a wink and then pretend to zip your lips and throw away the key. your peripheral caught your husband sneaking around and looking near and far for the little fit of laughs that was sitting on your feet.
“next up that i’ll work on is the cheese, we’re making mozzarella so im just going to start by putting some milk on heat using m-”
“psst” carlos cuts you off from behind the camera, attempting, attempting, to not interrupt. once you give him a confused look he begins to mouth out ‘donde?” while confusion etches his face as well. you stifle a laugh and give him an obvious glance down to your feet in order to hint. his head falls back with a smile and he rounds the corner of the counter to catch his daughter. you view the scene playout and begin to stir around the wilted tomatoes on the stove, santana screeching in joy as carlos comes onto the screen of your live, picking up his daughter while reciting the chant, ‘i’ve found you, mija!’ ‘i’ve found you!’ and you just look on in awe.
the comments begin to fly by at lightning speed due to the domestic bliss your family carried onto the screen. carlos, still holding a giggly santana, checks you over while looking between you and your phone, “lo siento, amor,” he stretches his puppy dog eyes towards you and you can’t help but swoon, “it’s okay, enjoy hiding from this little detective next, baby,” before carlos could even respond, a resounding sound of disgust is let out from the four year old and she squeaks out, “i your baby mama! not papi,” she holds onto her pout and crosses her arms tightly as she looks between you two. you turn the heat low on the stove for both your projects and head over to where your husband and baby are, slowly repeating back to her, “you are my baby, princesa,” bringing your hands up to her tummy you begin to make her emit her loud and infectious laughter to you and carlos.
the comments poured over on your phone as you left your love-bubble to take a look at them, one stuck out and you replied, still holding a slight laugh in your voice, “yes, we are very happy,” and you went back to smiling at your beautiful family.
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i fucking hate him
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AITA for coming to dinner with my ex and his new GF uninvited?
This situation is long and messy, so I'll try to include the relevant info only. I (F32) broke up with my long time partner (M33) right before COVID hit. We stayed in the same house during lockdown and continued to live together after lockdown was lifted, because we generally get along and we had a child (F11) to raise together. Over the last 3 years we've been roommates and co-parents and that's it.
One day he was supposed to take our daughter to buy new school clothes, and she came back 10 minutes later in tears. She said they were on their way to the store when his new GF called, and he drove her back home and dropped her off so he could go spend time with her. He even asked our daughter to lie to me for him, but she was tired of covering for him (implying she'd been lying for him for a while now).
When he got home we had a massive argument. I didn't care if he dated other girls, I cared that for some reason he thought he had to sneak around, and it made him act like a jerk to me and our daughter. I told him if he had been a man about this new girl and just introduced me to her then maybe we could have all been friends, but instead he had to act like a horny teenager. It ended with him moving out to live with his parents.
A couple days later he called and apologized. He said he hoped it wasn't too late for him to do things right, and he hopes we can all be friends. I was hopeful that we could finally co-parent in peace for the sake of our child.
This is where I may be TA: I have always been close with my ex's parents, to the point where even after we broke up I would be invited over regularly for dinner. They said even if I wasn't their son's partner I'm still their grandchild's mother, and that makes me family.
So one day when my daughter texts me while at my ex's parent's house and invites me to dinner because they're having my favorite meal, I don't think twice about coming over even though my ex and his GF I've never met now live there. I figured everyone had to be okay with it, since my daughter was inviting me.
I end up having dinner with my ex's parents and daughter, but my ex only comes upstairs to grab two plates of food and goes back downstairs. I ask my ex's mom why and she says his GF doesn't feel well today. Whatever, I think. She's just sick and I'll meet her another day. I have a perfectly pleasant dinner with my ex in-laws, help clean up, and make a promise to bring them a coconut cake (ex father-in-law's favorite) and take my daughter home.
Later my ex blows up my phone with texts and calls, saying it was so weird and rude that I came over for dinner uninvited. That I made his new GF uncomfortable, and like she wasn't welcome there. And that I caused trouble in their relationship because she assumes we must still be in love for me to come over and see his parents out of the blue like that, because "exes don't do that. it's creepy."
I had a talk with my daughter and asked her calmly if she had asked everyone else if it was ok if I come over before she texted me, and she sheepishly said she didn't know she had to ask since it had never been a problem before. (I didn't tell her about her dad's meltdown at me, or tell her dad that she's the one who invited me. She's a child and shouldn't be involved)
Instead I just told him I'm sorry me dropping by made things awkward, but I thought he wanted us all to be friends from now on and I figured this was a good place to start being friends. He said there was no way she'd want to be my friend now that I made her feel uncomfortable in her own home.
It wasn't my intention to make anyone uncomfortable, but I admit I'd be perturbed if he brought this woman into MY home and I had not even been warned first. So AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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Set The World On Fire
Chapter Nine
Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.
He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger
Warnings: smut! P in v! Oral, female receiving
Mafia AU
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His mums place wasn't what she was expecting. She didn't know what she expected from Lando, but it wasn't this. He parked outside of the little apartment block on the outskirts of town and opened the door for her.
"This is your moms place?" She asked as she took Lando's hand and climbed out of the car.
She kept a hold of his hand as he walked over to the apartment. "Nobody knows about this place," he said as he took her up the stairs. "I think my mom knew she was going to die when she did. She left the keys for me for my sixteenth birthday."
He came to the door, apartment 105 on the first floor, and pushed it open.
It was... gorgeous. The pictures on the wall were of baby Lando and a woman. There were no baby pictures of his sister, but that made sense. The living room was tiny, with a small, L-shaped sofa pushed up against the wall. On the floor in front of it was a cream, shaggy rug, with a circular coffee table on the top. Opposite was a television.
Everything was covered in dust.
"I don't get time to come here much, now," Lando answered as she took a moment to explore. "It's the only thing I have left of hers."
He walked over to the fridge and pulled out two cans of beer. Lando sat himself on the sofa and turned on the television. It was the newest thing in the apartment, something he had bought after the old one packed up.
At last, she came and sat beside him. She tucked herself against his side and took the beer he offered her. "How did she die?" She asked as she cracked open the can.
Lando sucked in a breath. "I don't remember much about her," he confessed. "And my dad doesn't much speak about her. The records I've looked through say nothing about her getting sick, but nobody will tell me what actually happened."
She cuddled into him and sipped her beer. "Tell me about your step mother," she muttered.
Before he answered her, Lando pulled her into his lap. She placed her beer down and wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands settled on her hips. "My step mother was a vicious bitch," he said with a laugh. "She was a great mum to me, but she was terrifying. Her main priority was taking care of my sister. Everything I know, she taught me." Guns, fighting, all of that. But Lando wasn't ready to tell her that. "Everyone that came in and out of our house was terrified of her."
"How did she die?" She asked, but Lando shook his head.
"That's a story for another day," he said and kissed her. "Should we order a pizza?"
They stayed on the sofa, eating pizza and drinking beer as they watched movie after movie.
Halfway through the third movie, she yawn and stretched her limbs up. "Are we sleeping here?" She asked sweetly, innocently, and Lando nodded his head. "Perfect," she whispered as she climbed off of his lap.
Lando watched her move across the apartment, his apartment. It wasn't owned by his father or the Norris family. It was his. And she was in it.
Her hips swayed as she moved. Before she could round the corner and disappear into his bedroom, she pulled her shirt over her head.
It landed in his lap.
Within a second he was jumping from the sofa and racing after her.
When he got there she was laying on his bed in nothing but her pyjama pants. Lando let out a low whistle as he looked at her. He'd been with plenty of women in his life, but none of them were her.
"Fuck," he hissed as she looked at her. "You really are something." He climbed onto the bed and crawled on top of her, kissing her slowly, completely ignoring her breasts.
She whined against his lips, threading her fingers through his hair. Lando rolled his hips against hers and she pulled her lips away from his to cry out.
She'd been wanting this, just as much as Lando had, since the wedding. "Please tell me you've got a condom," she whispered and Lando reached into the bedside drawers, pulling out a box of condoms.
She grabbed his face and pulled him down to kiss her.
He kissed her cheek and down her neck. Lando stopped to mark her up, to leave dark, purple bruises on her skin. She whined and moaned, tugging at his hair. He was loving every second of it.
Finally, he moved down to her breasts. She arched her back towards him as his thumb toyed with her right nipple, his lips wrapping around the left. "Fuck," she hissed, eyes squeezing shut as he played with her. "Lan."
He pulled away from her and reached up to quickly kiss her lips. When he pulled away, he grabbed hold of her pyjama pants and underwear and pulled them down her legs.
"Holy shit," he said as he dropped them to the floor. "You're fucking soaked."
"Jeez, I wonder why," she muttered with a grin as she parted her legs.
Lando touched her, gingerly parting her lips with his fingers. His breath hitched as he looked at her. He ran his fingers through her folds, gathering up her wetness and placing his finger in his mouth.
He released it with a pop and stroked over her hip. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you," he whispered, staring at her.
She looked down at him with adoration in his eyes. "Do it then."
Lando dove in. He pulled her towards him and pressed his face to her cunt. His lips sucked at her clit as he gripped her legs. Holding her open. The moan she let out echoed around the apartment. "Shit!" She cried, gripping the sheets. "Fuck, Lan." She bucked her hips against his face, but he held her still, used his tongue to bring her pleasure.
When he hummed against her, she grabbed his hair and bucked her hips towards his face.
Lando couldn't hold her for that one. He allowed her to move against him, his nose bumping her clit.
When her legs began shaking, Lando pulled away. "Pass me a condom," he said as he climbed back up her body and kissed her.
She could taste herself on him as his tongue danced into her mouth. Blindly she reached for the box of condoms and pulled out a square, blue wrapper.
He ripped it open and rolled it over his rock. "Next time, I want you to ride my face," he whispered as he lined himself up.
He kissed her as he slowly entered her. Inch by inch he pushed himself into her, his lips against her own. He didn't pull away until she did, throwing her head back as she moaned.
His movement were slow and gentle. If he wasn't kissing her, his forehead was against her own as he moved her hips. With how slow it was, Lando was determined to draw it out, to draw every little noise from her. It was music to his ears. If he could have, he would have listened to it on repeat for the rest of his life.
She locked her legs around him, her chest rapidly rising and falling as Lando brought her closer and closer to her orgasm. He buried his face in her neck, leaving a mirroring bruise on the side of her neck that had none.
She came, squeezing around him as a little cry left her lips. "That's it," Lando whispered against her neck. "That's it."
With just a few more thrusts he came inside of the condom. Immediately, Lando pulled out. He quickly pulled off the condom and dropped it in the bin, returning to the bed beside her.
Her breathing still heavy, she grabbed Lando's hand and brought it up to her lips. "That was," she began through heavy breaths. Lando grabbed her and pulled her close, wrapping his body around her. "Wow."
Lando squeezed her. "Something you'd wanna do again?"
"Definitely."
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we'll be who he couldn't be.
pairing: fem!reader x dad!matt
synopsis: you see matt with your baby and it reminds you of your past
warnings: body image, eating, ANGST, fluff, daddy issues, use of y/n
a/n: this hits a bit close to home and i cried writing this so if it sucks im SORRY.
you were lying in bed with a tear soaked pillow, stuffy nose, and your thoughts. your anxiety washed over you like a wave. you hated this day, you hated everything about that day. wishing you were able to participate in this holiday.
scrolling through your phone on instagram, tiktok, twitter, snapchat, you name it. videos and pictures of your friends with their father smiling, looking happy, loved. something you’ve always wanted.
"fuck fathers day" you thought.
from a young age you've always felt worthless, ashamed, disgusted in yourself. you've looked for love in other because you've couldn't find it in myself. you didn't know how to love yourself because the one person you looked up to didn't show it.
you lived in the same house but you feel like he didn't know you. he doesn't remember your favorite color, your favorite food.
you've learned to stop talking about yourself when you were around people in fear you'll be judged just like your dad used to do. felt the need to cover your body because either you were either eating too much or not enough.
hiding your tears from your mom so she wouldn't have to worry about how you're feeling because you think she has better things to worry about.
you thought your sister moving out would be exciting because you finally get your own room. but really you used that as an excuse so you can think of something other than your draining thoughts of being alone now. alone, in your room, crying because you wish you could have the father you've always dreamed on.
"y/n?" matt calls out softly as he rocks side to side with your baby girl in his hands.
"hm?"
"you okay sweetheart?" he asks concerned
you immediately burst into tears.
matt gently places your daughter in her crib and he comes rushing over. "hey, whats wrong? talk to me."
"just s-seeing you hold her and love her is making me think about a bunch of stuff, you know i-issues with my dad how he made me feel. and it reminded me of this specific moment." you sob into his chest.
"oh y/n, i know, love, i know" he whispers in my hair rubbing my back
"i just love you so much. you're already such a good dad and i know you'll never make her feel the way i felt growing up."
"look at me." he says "we'll be who he couldn't be. i will do everything to make sure she doesn't feel the way you felt. we both will. you laid on that hospital bed for 19 hours so she could be in our arms, you're amazing, and she is so lucky to have you as her mom. your past doesn't define you. your past is just a small part of how you became the amazing woman you are today.
you hug matt tighter than ever. "thank you matt"
"no need to thank me bug."
you both get up from your bed and stand over your babys crib and admire the little being you brought into this world.
"she's perfect." he says wrapping his arms around you from behind.
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