#sorry for fucked up perspective i decided i only care about it when i absolutely have to. for work

[sirguyofdykesborn]

literally any scene in fool's errand like the one where the fool has fitz all dressed up standing in front of the mirror with him like something from an 80s teen movie? wonderful. anything from the cabin? exquisite. fitz having a stroke about the fool's kissing civil's hand? unbeatable.

cabin time for you and fitz with gilly for the other anon. enjoy

[inkedells]

look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?

m!dni | requests open.

summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.

word count: 5.5k

tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires

masterlist

There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.

You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.

You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—

“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.

He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.

So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.

You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”

Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.

But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.

“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”

By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 

“Lead the way.”

Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.

“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”

As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.

“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”

There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.

He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”

You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.

“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”

“What kinda chore we talkin’?”

“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”

“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.

“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”

“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”

-

Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.

You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.

When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.

“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”

“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”

“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”

Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.

“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”

You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.

“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”

He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”

Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.

“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”

Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—

He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.

“Um, I think he’s out working.”

“Great.”

Great?

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”

His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.

Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”

He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.

“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”

You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”

He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”

“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.

Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”

“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”

Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”

Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”

“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”

Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.

“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”

Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.

“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”

You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.

“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”

You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel. Just Joel.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.

You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.

It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.

He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”

His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”

With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.

It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.

“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You know why it’s there?”

You shrugged.

He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”

Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out

“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”

Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.

Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 

“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.

But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.

A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.

You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.

Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.

“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”

It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.

“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone.

-

That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.

You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.

So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.

Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.

No pressure on either of you.

You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.

-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.

“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”

“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”

“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”

“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”

Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”

You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.

Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?

When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.

And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.

You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.

Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.

The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.

-

Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.

“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”

And Joel’s voice.

You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.

Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.

“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.

“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”

Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”

“Well, what was the usual li—”

“—Were you asleep?”

“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”

“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”

“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”

No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”

He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”

He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”

“What? But why?”

Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.

“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”

“Joel, I—”

“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”

You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.

“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.

“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.

He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.

“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”

Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”

You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.

“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”

“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.

You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”

Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”

You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.

“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”

You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”

Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”

And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.

“Unbuckle my pants.”

With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.

“What…” You began, “What now?”

“Whatever feels comfortable.”

With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.

Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”

“—Yes, God, yes.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.

“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”

You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.

“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.

With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.

You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”

And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.

Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.

You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”

“Licking a man’s cock.”

You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”

And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.

Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.

“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”

“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.

“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”

You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.

“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”

He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”

“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.

With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”

“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”

When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.

“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.

“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”

But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.

“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”

“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”

“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 

“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”

“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”

He sighed at that. “You got me there.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.

When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.

“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”

“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.

Another sigh. “My cum.”

You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.

“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.

“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”

Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 

“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”

“What? No—”

“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”

He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

masterlist

A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings

taglist:

@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare

@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13

@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams @laurasunsole @senaar-ika @whore4ellie @harrysbitvh123 @atremises @silkiers @bbyanarchist @pawnshopbluess222 @https-hann @cassiesolos @xanqels @jawgrinder

@daylighthrry @victoriamay1357 @jeezkiddo @its-spooky-these-days @pedro-luvr @chibimosa @sagethephantom @loathsome-gargoyle @alejaa-a @greenclues @june-julie @spenciesprincess @donttamethebeasts @alec0 @djarinsimp 

[nunalastor]

I have been struck by an idea for Angel Alastor AU

*Alastor's POV*

A couple months into his stay in Hell Alastor finds and figures out how deals work, as well as their roll they play in maintaining this realm. He is excited to try it out and finds out he is really good at it. BUT!! After awhile the people he takes under his care collapse into shows of light. He doesn't get it. What is he doing wrong! the only 2 thralls not leaving are Nifty and husker.

Let's see he takes in children and women who did what they had to do to survive. Check! Give them free housing in the forest he grew with his magic. Check!! Employ the women as either teachers/caretakers for the kids or writers for his radio shows. CHECK!!! Basically build and maintain a self sufficient community that doesn't have to worry about the stress of hell while he get to have his fun. Check fucking CHECK!!!!

No matter how many years pass in hell it keeps happening. It's confusing but that's ok, he only did it because all the most respected Overlords of hell run and maintain communities. His new bestie Rosie, Carmillia, Missi Zilla, Zestial and even that pathetic picture Box that got a lucky hit to his forehead with an angelic dagger ( thankfully Alastor bashed vox's face in before he could back up the memory) has one. Well the Princess is opening a hotel i hopes of rehabilitating sinners should be fun. He just hopes that the letters he wrote for Guy, Emily and his Mom and that they forgive him for his selfish acts.

*Heaven's/Micheal's POV*

It has been years since the one so loved by Heaven went missing because of Adam's carelessness when something miraculous starts happening. The souls of women and children damned to Hell start appearing before the high Seraphim Sera. Despite all the struggles the souls went through and endured, they had one thing in common.

Alastor

When Micheal is filled in on what's happening he doesn't rushes to the observation orb within Heavens Court house. With the help of the very souls Alastor redeemed he lays eyes upon his beloved for the first time in years. The sight is both comforting and devastating as Micheal watches Alastor rub at a nasty scar along his temple.

Of course. Everything makes sense now. His beloved wouldn't abandon everyone he loves on a whim. He didn't know it was possible for the love he has held for his deer to grow deeper because even when trapped in hell under the delusion that they're a demon Al still went out of his way to help others. After many apology's to Guy, Emily and Al's Mom for the deceit Sera decides the best course of action going forward is to call a meeting with Lucifer.....OH, Lucifer sent his daughter in his place. WAIT! She's starting up a redemption project that's perfect we can give her support through the search party now led by a talented exorcist by the name of Vagatha And his beloved's best friend Guy who's a detective turned therapist.

Charlie: "wait uncle, you know redemption is possible?"

Micheal: "Well yes, but not how because my boyfriend the saint who figured out how to do so, got trapped in Hell due to a tragic mistake some years ago suffering a horrible head wound. We were finally able to find him but we don't know how much he truly remembers."

*Lilith POV*

Lilith who has spent the last couple of years getting faded off champagne on a beach: "I feel like i'm forgetting something important" -the unopened letters Alastor asked her to deliver sitting at the bottom of her luggage- "If i can't remember, probably not a big deal."

-sleep deprived Anon-

P.S. the thought of Alastor finally finding joy in his after life only to have it be ripped out from under him because he is unintentionally being really helpful is funny and the growing unhinged perspective of Micheal as he searches for his beloved, is absolutely delightful for me

P.S.S. I had to write this down twice so it's a lot longer than it was originally so here's this wall of text-sorry not sorry

👀

[philaet0s]

Celebrity/Social Media AU - Part 24

Previous Part : Part 23

There’s text under the screenshots because the part would have been way too short if it was only the screenshots

Simon

“Are you texting Penelope?”

It’s the first time either of us has spoken in half an hour. Baz turned off the radio before he said a word.

“What?”

“I know you’re texting someone. Are you asking her about me?”

Does that motherfucker really read me that well? I swear, I’m angling my phone in a way that hides the screen from him. There’s no way he is seeing what I’m writing.

I must take too long to answer, because he clicks his tongue.

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

“Look, I know damn well you won’t tell me anything yourself! I have to ask someone that will!”

“So because I don’t want to tell you about something that is absolutely none of your concern, you’re going behind my back and asking one of our friends instead? That’s very mature.”

“Ah, yes, because your reaction is so mature.”

His hands tighten around the wheel.

“I still have a right to decide who knows what about my health status.”

“And you think that ‘who’ doesn’t include your boyfriend? Great show of trust, mate.”

“You asked Penelope instead of asking me because you thought I wouldn’t answer. That’s a great fucking show of trust too.”

“Stop the car.”

He looks at me for a second, eyes wide. “What?”

“Here, there’s a spot where you can park. Stop the fucking car, Baz.”

Against all odds, he does. He looks utterly confused when I unbuckle my seat belt and open the car door.

“Snow, what are you…”

“Get out too.”

Again, he does. The look on his face doesn’t change. His eyebrows are high on his forehead when he reaches my side of the car. We must look ridiculous from an outside perspective, standing next to our car in the middle of a country road, staring stonily at each other.

“What’s up with you?” he asks.

I lay my hands on his shoulders firmly. “I love you.” His confusion seems to become even greater. “I really do fucking love you, Baz. I love you, and I’m so glad you’re home, and I don’t want to be fighting with you when we have so little time together before you leave again. I’m sorry that you’re upset I talked to you about your leg, but I do think you should be a bit more careful. You told me yourself that the condition of your leg wasn’t stable, that it could get worse if you pushed yourself too hard, and I don’t want that to happen, for your sake, because I know it would hurt you. You’re always so caring with me, Baz, I wish you could show that gentleness to yourself too. You have nothing to prove to anyone, and you’re not going to gain anything by going without your cane for the entire duration of your tour when you could benefit from using it. Give yourself a break.”

“I don’t need it,” he says, stubborn. I knew the first words out of his mouth in the heat of the moment would be something along those lines. He’s taking my words as an attack. He has to defend himself.

If I answer aggressively, we’ll just start fighting again.

I stroke soothing circles on his shoulders with my thumbs. I look at him in the eyes, hoping my gaze conveys even a fraction of all the love and care I have for him.

“Perhaps you don’t need it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t use it. I don’t need to take the lift when I get home, but after being up on my feet all day at work I don’t feel like going up several flights of stairs. So I don’t. And it makes my day easier. You should see it more that way. Your cane is something you can use to make your life a little easier.”

He opens his mouth. Then closes it. He frowns.

“I don’t need it,” he repeats in a whisper, without any animosity in his voice. “So if I don’t use it, please refrain from making any comments about it. I… I like it when you take care of me, but not when it comes to… that.” I can tell that admitting this costs him. I give him a smile as a reward and an encouragement.

“Okay. I’ll try to… refrain.”

Even though it’s endlessly frustrating to know he’s making himself struggle more than he needs to…

“Thank you. Let’s get back in the car, now. It’s almost bedtime for Swithin.”

[rebo-chan]

Sorry y'all this one's gonna be a long one lol fun analysis/theorizing/headcanoning whatever the fuck this is under the cut :)

So, lately I've been really thinking about Lambo and Tsuna's relationship, Lambo's connection to Vongola, and Lambo's spot as the Lightning Guardian. I know as a fandom, we tend to disregard Lambo because he has like.. two fights in the whole series or wish that someone else was made the Lightning Guardian because that boy is Literally Five. And I won't act like it wouldn't have been cool to see another character as Lightning Guardian (My Haru Guardian fans rise up where are you) but I think what Amanos done here is really fun too from an analysis perspective.

To start with, Tsuna's family is not really a..traditional Mafia family or even a traditional Vongola family either. Let's look at this here, he's got his Two Best Friends(TM), his crush's big brother, the leader of the Disciplinary Committee at his school, a criminal, a half dead girl, and the aforementioned five year old as his guardians. This is FAR from what's likely expected out of the Vongola family, even when you date it back to Primo AT LEAST PRIMO HAD PRINCES, PRIESTS, SAMURAIS as his guardians. (Though he gets away with having One Best Friend (TM) as his guardian.) Yet somehow, their family makes it work!! They survive the Mafia world, multiple times throughout the series and when it's not working they get stronger as a unit and they fight for each other and make it out together. And I think that's the beauty of their specific family.

So then you have Lambo, who Tsuna would do anything for just to avoid Lambo having to experience a fraction of the shit they go through. And Tsuna actually SUCCEEDS at this, he doesn't normally succeed when it comes to being avoidant of Mafia stuff but this was something throughout the series that he was so genuinely adamant against. He only let Lambo fight when he truly had to and even then he very minimally let the Mafia world wrap its greedy paws around Lambo. Kokuyo arc, Tsuna didn't even sort of kind of a little bit consider taking Lambo with them (which would later help keep Kyoko and Haru safe), Varia arc, knowing that this would disqualify him, Tsuna decided he could not allow Lambo to keep fighting.

Future Arc, Tsuna kept Lambo out of the fight as much as he could, allowing the non-fighters to take care of him and I-pin. Shimon Arc, Tsuna felt real regret at the prospect that he allowed Lambo to come.

(And Arco arc where Lambo was hardly present at either, which I'd like to imagine that if Lambo was involved in Arco arc then Tsuna may have just absolutely fucking died)

Tsuna to Lambo is not his guardian (Frankly, he doesn't view any of his guardians as such, they are his friends, his pride, his comrades, and those he has traded blows with and knows they can be trusted.) Lambo to Tsuna is his little brother. This five year old was sent on an assassination attempt that was absolutely in no circumstance meant to actually succeed and the Bovinos know that. To send Lambo to assassinate the strongest hitman was a death mission. So, Tsuna took this child in (or rather this child stuck around bc his Mom makes banger meals) and immediately Tsuna assumes the role of his brother. Lambo and Tsuna are the closest out of all the kids. (Ofc Tsuna loves I-pin and fuuta too, but I think it's safe to say Lambo is his dumb little brother)

Now, I don't think that Tsuna is ever going to see Lambo as anything but his little brother. I actually theorize that the way TYL Lambo is the way he is because Tsuna never really got out of the habit of babying him. He's calmed down since he was a kid and developed a more nonchalant personality with the occasional tantrum because you can't tell me Tsuna DOESNT STILL view TYL Lambo as a non-combatant. When Tsunas 15, he looks at 5 year old Lambo and goes no thanks that boy is never touching a weapon in his life. When Tsunas is 25, he sees 15 year Lambo and goes that is STILL a child he is never touching a weapon in his life. And yes he's completely unaware of the hypocrisy in my head.

This is a spoiled little brother no one can tell me otherwise.

So we know Tsuna just sees him as his kid brother and not a real guardian. But then you have Lambo's feelings about the whole matter. We know that Lambo doesn't really consider Tsuna a boss but as his big brother, but I don't think that changes a lot for Lambo. While fighting is scary for Lambo, he still desires to follow alongside Tsuna and his friends. He doesn't want to be left behind and makes Tsuna promise him he'll take him wherever he goes. He sees Tsuna freaking out about him being a child in a battlefield and he goes, "No you don't understand, I want to be there."

And that? That right there is what fucks me up after everything. Lambo as a concept for a Lightning Guardian feels really unique because of this. He's the youngest one. He's always going to chase after the others, trying to keep up with them, to walk alongside them. One day, he wants to catch up and be considered a rightful Guardian like the others. And that is so... Tsuna and him would be batting heads over this because I cannot see Tsuna relenting on Lambo staying out of the battle. I cannot see Tsuna ever feeling like Lambo's ready. Not because he thinks Lambo is weak, but because Lambo's his baby brother and Tsuna needs him more away from the battle or else he can't focus.

While Tsuna doesn't react outwardly in this frame, I do think it's not a coincidence that he could focus on fighting the battle and not be "impatient" as Reborn put it, the moment he saw Gokudera and Hibari on the battlefield. He could focus easier knowing his friends were running around saving Lambo and co.

Okay, so you have the Big brother who wants to protect his little brother from seeing the same stuff he does, from fighting the same battles he does, and wants him to grow up as a regular kid (a right which he had been robbed off the moment a certain hitman showed up at his door). Then you have the little brother who wants wholeheartedly to be there, desires to catch up to his big brother and know the world that his big brother knows.

How does this difference in value get addressed? well it doesn't because Lambo is still 5 and Shounen jump are cowards for ending Amanos series when they did <3 B U T we have this.

We all know this scene for when we rewatched Reborn for the first and went "..wait.." because that was some actually sweet foreshadowing from Amano. Okay, so. We have a Lambo who finally did it. Finally is someone worthy of being called the Vongola Lightning Guardian. And Tsuna and co are implied to have just been... Gone. All of Tsuna's efforts to raise this kid in a regular life are ripped away because something happens to HIM, not Lambo. And from Lambo's perspective, he's caught up finally but the person he was following isn't around anymore. He didn't think he'd see him again. I think it's safe to assume that this scene either implies that something happens to Tsuna in his 30s (since we know he wasn't actually dead TYL) OR 20yl Lambo is from a parallel world where Byakuran had actually won and actually took Tsunas life.

And I think that's some real meat to bite into for these characters. A little brother who will lose his big brother if he doesn't do something, get stronger in time. A big brother who won't let him join the battle because he's afraid of losing HIS little brother. A Vongola Lightning Guardian who wants to be a shield for his Boss, and a Boss won't let him be a shield.

And that? That's a good concept for a Vongola Lightning Guardian.

Thank you for reading this far if you did :] this is a bit of a ramble but I was thinking about it and I felt it nice to share. I hope maybe I shared some of my brain worms with you <3

[tg-pilled]

How TG characters would react to being in Saw traps:

(These aren't specific traps because I haven't seen enough movies to torture my pookies properly yet 😾😾😾)

Kaneki

Pre-Jason: Cry, shake, throw up. Would probably die from the stress and overthinking before that cunty Billy Puppet could even Think about rolling in

Post-Jason: Would not hesitate to break a bone but would also act in rash ways. Would probably manage to escape the trap but wouldn't seek for help after because he's emo brocken core 🥀🥀🥀

Haise

Approaches it from a logical perspective. 100% escapes but tries not to injure himself (or others if it is a joined trap)

Touka

Would probably curse out whoever put her in the room the entire time while solving the puzzle / getting through it. Like. "YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH, I'M GOING TO GET YOU" *solves the puzzle* She 100% beats the fuck out of the Billy puppet when he rolls in once she's done like she is Not gonna have it

Hide

We all know our boy is SO smart, but he doesn't have the healing properties of a ghoul so he would have to be extra careful with it

Nishiki

Gets his swearing out BEFORE he starts solving the puzzle which ultimately costs him time so he dies. He's definitely smart enough and rash enough to do ANYTHING to get out but I feel like his attitude would get in his way

Uta

Tries but ultimately decides he doesn't give a fuck so he just opts to die

Renji

Definitely tries but realizes he also doesn't give a fuck. His only motivation would be to keep protecting those he cares about but if the creator of the room told him they were dead then he'd probably just die too

Ayato

Like Touka, he gets mad except he sits there for a while stewing in his anger because he hates when people boss him around and he'll prove he's the best by escaping with only a little time left

Eto

Solves it SO quickly and kicks serious ass once she's out

Rize

Solves it and then serves absolute cunt while hunting down the guy

Jason

Considering how he reacted when Kaneki turned the tables on him, he'd probably lay down and cry

Tsukiyama

Acts like he knows what he's doing and then dies because he does not in fact know what he's doing

Juuzou

Compliments the person who made the room while solving the ever loving fuck out of it

Amon

I honestly have NO clue what he would do. He seems like the type of guy to say, "You're under arrest!" in a situation where he does not have the ability to arrest someone 😭 He's definitely smart enough to solve it, he would just probably be saying, "Do you know who I am??" the entire time 💀

Akira

Solves it and then complains that it ruined her schedule for the day 💀

Saiko

Doesn't give a fuck probably. That or she would cry. Or both. She'd cry and then not give a fuck.

Ginshi

I'm sorry but that man is NOT surviving. He's smart but he definitely is a different type of intelligent to what Saw traps might require. I think in a physical one, yes he would. In one that required more attention to detail and shit...maybe not.

Mutsuki

Cries and then beats the ever loving fuck out of the trap and kills the person that did it

Urie

Solves it and just goes about it silently, unphased, and logically. He can't let his kidnapper know he's scared

This is for shits and giggles, don't take it too serious and I'd love to see other characters you guys think about in Saw traps. All the characters are def smart enough to solve them but it's funny to imagine them in there

[gossipgirloff1]

Sainz, Lando, Albon and Oscar eating McDonald together after Oscar win is so disappointing tbh. I know they are rich men and probably don’t give a fuck about boycott and what’s happening in Palestine but still 😐 //

probably this doesn't fit the topic of this blog, but since anon mentioned this theme i want to add my perspective.

i am ukrainian and i absolutely tired how wars are perceiving now. for most people it’s just “annoying shit” (it’s a real quote from message that i reviewed) that doesn’t need attention. for people its just a joke, they don’t care that in Ukraine, Palestine, Syria and bunch of other countries people are literally dying just because someone from other more powerful country decided that.

most this famous people doesn’t actually care about us. for them it seems enough to post a story on a “first day” with a bunch of hashtags. but there a lot of truly amazing celebrities who really helping one way or another. by constantly sharing info, helping by donating, helping shelters etc. (probably one of not many good thing that kelly doing is sharing info, sometimes lol. but still sharing)

answering on your anon ask, i feel this pain every single time while seeing how you guys fangirling over russia, russian aesthetic, communism and russians, for example irina shayk (she is modeling for russian brands which sponsoring war in Ukraine), daniil kvyat and lots lots of other russians. how you making jokes about us begging for help, for every our move, word being criticised.

lots of people don’t really know how it feels to share the border with russia. the war started in 2014 and i was NINE, past sunday i turned NINETEEN. i would never forget how i was going to the shop at summer’14 at my grandma’s town and saw tanks and military vehicles riding through the streets. you know i probably would never see my grandparents again? because my town is occupied. my mother would probably never see her parents again.

most part of the world i guess know about 24 february 2022. i woke up at 4:50 to get a drink and at 5:08 was first missile strike on out biggest airport. i don’t think that my father would forget me asking him “is that fireworks?”.

you know earlier this july russia purposely striked into biggest child oncology clinic in Ukraine? probably no, but i don’t blame you, seriously.

i hate how people comparing Palestine and Ukraine. like guys what the fuck are you doing? posting photo from Gaza and fucking San Francisco, claiming that its Kyiv. search about Mariupol or Bakhmut. people dying is fucking joke? or how we posting about missile attacks in out cities and some of you running to write that its fake? that we are not suffering like Palestine? my country is actually sending to Palestine humanitarian aid.

i am scared leaving my room at night during air raid alert, because if something happens i would not be able to protect my little sister. you know its so fucking terrifying when you hear missile flying over and you begging that it wouldn’t be your home which be destroyed.

i am tired of people comparing, hating, ignoring, pretending wars aren’t real. we need stuck together, not tear each other apart.

please be kind to each other.

ps from me: sorry for this long ask, i think i needed to put my thoughts into something. when i wrote “you” i am not directly talking to anon or you, owner of this blog, just general appeal. i am not trying to be mean, sorry if you feel so.

ps 2 from me: i really like your blog!!! i am a big gossiper so your account is a treasure for my soul!!! don’t worry about all that mean asks, they just can’t stand that here are different opinions and we are not kissing ass their favs!!

have a nice part of a day!!!!

Thank you for speaking up about your experience about war and how you feel about this I love that we can talk anything and any subject in this blog and no one says please stick with the gossip

I know I have never been feel or experienced what you have been through only think we can say is I feel for you and help both your country and Palestine about donations but if you don’t feel okay and need someone to talk to I am always here (this includes all people in this blog btw) i know these things can mentally do to our brains so I want you all to know I’m here

Thank you for your kind words about the blog and thank you to the anons of this blog for being here ❤️

Have nice day/night 😊

[mandy4ever69420]

do you read fanfiction? if so, do you have any recs?

ok obviously you mean shameless fanfiction with this but how funny would it be if i started dropping links to the weirdly stellar fanfiction i've read for the world's most dogshit television w/ absolutely no relevance to shameless. anyway the answer is "yeah a little"

i have 2! for you. both pretty short, which is sad, because i love longfics and really admire the people who make them. but i wanted to reread both of these because giving recs makes me nervous & i'm extremely specific about characterization for things i recommend

this take on the 'gay friends' plot (5k words) is by far my favorite - very much this is to my taste as fanfiction as a ruse to do some character work +matching source material tone. i want to note a very shameless-esque behavior in the setup here where it has a perspective that initially makes me a little upset (wrt: mickey's response to "who dies first?") and then upon thinking about it i actually decide it's actually fucking phenomenal. couple very sweet moments dotted in. :)

The Second-Time Commitment (14k words) this one does draw a conclusion from canon facts that isn't part of my read, but i don't think it's unfounded or poorly supported. i read it first because i appreciated it going into the nitty gritty sucky bits of bipolar beyond being depressed which is more familiar to more people. didn't expect it to take a dive into mickey's character which was also carefully done and lovely. i urge you to mind the tags but nothing is explicitly detailed in there. the sequel (16k) is also good but sadly unfinished. probably the only story i've encountered for which i enjoy the characterization on mickey, ian, AND mandy AND debbie (though she's barely there. sad!). i'm gonna compare about the conclusions this one draws to mine also but under a readmore in case you want to read the fic first

none of this is a critique of the story!!! it is very well done this is just my thoughts, as prompted by this story. also, some of this is kind of sad. Sorry

the author in this concludes from a handful of traits in the story that mickey was sexually abused prior to the series. when they draw their conclusion i think IMO it's a perfectly reasonable read, but my read was just that he was likely witness to sexual abuse. i mean, more or less exact canon, given where and how he grew up. probably sandy.

this is something that could not have possibly been written in intentionally, and a good place to point out that authorial intent is an interesting addition to a narrative, not the law you have to follow!

WRT: mickey alluding to resenting foster care, i absolutely see concluding that something worse must have been happening than at terry's house, but to me what comes to mind is a sense of abandonment. my read on mickey will always be that he really did love terry, even still in s11 when he didn't want to anymore. so feeling ditched by him would feel worse than being stuck with him.

[gucciwins]

can we get Harry’s reaction to bel not taking it easy after the concussion and get angry at her and forcing her to not do anything in house 🫣 and bel being upset because she’s bored and Harry reads to her

enjoy a 1.3k blurb of harry caring for bel. a continuation to bel gets hurt while filming 🫶

//

It had been one week, and Bel was ready to return to work. Her director assured her they were moving along fine and did not want her to rush her recovery. Except for Bel, she was itching to get back to work. It already meant she would be finished shooting this movie much later than anticipated.

Harry had been an angel since the moment he arrived. Bel had assured him countless times he was fine. 

“Bel, why are all the lights off?” 

“I’m resting, amor.” 

Harry sighs, “I’ll be cooking dinner.”

“Gracias.” 

He gets to the kitchen and sees her script pages sitting on the table, sighing. She couldn’t stay still. She just had to keep working. No wonder she had a headache. He was tempted to go into her room and tell her how upset he was, so instead, he decided to let it go and cook her soup just as he promised. 

It’s a few hours later, and Harry goes into her bedroom to call her for dinner when he finds her sitting up rubbing her eyes, he smiles at her bedhead, and just as he was about to call for her, she speaks up, but it’s clear she’s not talking to him.

“I’m doing great, Vi. Promise.” She hums in response. “Course I’m all better. I even managed to move my doctor’s appointment by two days.” She laughs. “No. I’m good. A break was nice.” 

Harry leaves the room, having heard enough. The anger he felt before comes back tenfold, and instead of calling for her, he sits down to eat dinner. 

“H? Didn’t hear you call me.” 

He doesn’t answer. She sits next to him, picking up the spoon. He sat next to her bowl. Harry can’t help but pause as he watches her take her first bite. “Mmmm, está muy rico.” She praises, taking another mouthful. 

“I was talking to Naomi, and she says she’s thinking of coming for a visit soon. In a month or so, isn’t that great?”

Harry doesn’t bother giving her a reply. He hears her put her spoon down, hitting the side of the bowl.

“H? What’s wrong?” She asks him, her voice full of concern. “Did Jeff call? Does he need you back?” 

“Stop it, Bel. Eat your dinner.” 

This only causes her to worry more. “Come on, H. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, but I hate to see you so sad.”

And he’s not sure why but her words get to him, and he just explodes. He looks at her, tears close to spilling out of his eyes. “You’re not even trying to take care of yourself. All you care about is work!” He shouts. He doesn’t realize Bel flinched, moving back. He keeps going. “I am here trying to take care of you, and all you want to do is get back to filming. Why can’t you realize your health is more important than a stupid film. One that needs you alive and well in order to continue.” Harry didn’t mean to tell her everything, especially not in an angry tone. 

He feels his heartbreak and anger vanish as he sees Bel look down, trying to discreetly hide her tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I–'m sorry.” 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and as he goes to pull her into his chest to give her a cuddle, she gets up, saying something about needing to use the restroom leaving behind a full plate, and disappointed Harry. 

He really fucked up in a matter of seconds. 

Harry sits there and tries to see it from her perspective. She’s been home for a week doing absolutely nothing, just as her doctor requested. He stopped her from doing laundry, taking over the chore because she was not supposed to carry anything heavy. He stopped her from using electronics as the light would hurt her eyes. He told her she couldn’t read anything from scripts to books as all the staring and reading would strain her head. He didn’t even let her help in the kitchen, not for a single thing. He’s made her feel useless, yet why did he get so angry at her? 

Because he was scared. When Harry received the call, he felt his heart stop, unable to process anything. He wasn’t sure who had booked his flight or how long it was. His world didn’t start spinning again until he had Bel right in front of him, and he could see for himself that she was alright. 

He had to apologize. 

“Bel?” Harry calls for her, knocking on the bathroom door. 

No answer. 

He twists the doorknob and goes in, only to find it empty. She must be in bed then. He heads to her room that she was happily sharing with him, giving him two drawer spaces. In the middle of the queen-sized bed, her eyes closed, the covers covering all the way up to her chin. Harry knew she wasn’t sleeping. Her breathing was too slow. He knew she was focusing on her breathing. 

“Baby? Is it okay if I come in?” There’s no response, but he takes that as a good sign. 

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, close but far enough to give her space. 

“Lovie, I want to apologize.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sorry.” 

Harry frowns, hating that he made her upset. “Can you look at me, please?”

She opens her eyes slowly, moving to sit up against the headboard. He offers her a timid smile, encouraging her to do the same.

“Hi baby, I’m sorry. I had no right to yell at you like that. I’m just worried, okay, and I took out my own frustrations on you. None of this was your fault.

She nods. “Do you really think my movies are stupid?” 

Harry shakes his head, “No. You’re the best actor in the world. I love that you love working on different films, but you can’t rush an injury.” 

Bel glances away from him, preferring to stare at her chipped nails, something the costume design would need to fix once she got back to work. “I’m sorry I’ve been so hard to deal with. I’m used to taking care of myself. It feels like I’ve always had to rely on myself. I’m not used to being looked after so well.” 

Harry takes her confession to heart because he knows that she was young when she lost her family and that she’s come to rely on herself. She’s fiercely independent, and he loves that about her, but she’s not alone anymore. 

“I know, love, and I respect that I do. But I love you, and I want to take care of you. It’s not something I feel I have to do. I want to do it. I want to be here for you.” 

“I appreciate it, H. I do.” 

Harry feels the tension leave the room. He opens his arms, and she’s quick to crawl to him, sitting on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I love you, H.” 

“And I love you, Bel.” He squeezes her tight. “So much.” 

She giggles as she feels him placed on her bare shoulder. 

“I was just so bored, H. You didn’t let me do anything,” she confesses. 

“Hey, now!” 

“It’s true!” 

He sighs because she’s right. She always is. “How about this?” She pulls back to look at him, eagerly waiting to hear his idea. “You’re going to get under the covers, and I’m going to grab the book from your bag and read to you, hmm. How does that sound?” 

She smacks a kiss on his lap, catching him by surprise as she scrambles to get off his lap and under the covers. “Perfect, amor.”

Harry loves her. He loves her and doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He leaves her with a final kiss and heads to the living room to find the strawberry tote bag she carries everywhere.

“Tea, please, baby!” She calls out from her room. 

And Harry knows he’d give her the world if she asked.

[christinebloodwrittings]

Just like a spell

Jötun Loki x Reader (Fluff)

Warnings: None

“He’s tall as fuck” Darcy, one of your friends, made the obvious observation, but you weren’t paying any attention, no. Your eyes were wandering over his long locks of hair falling off his shoulders, his crimson eyes watching over the tiny people around him, and how careful he was by making sure he wouldn’t crush someone with his heel. His bare chest, his big hands…everything.

You tried to think something, but you were absolutely mesmerized, the only thing creeping in your mind was how much you would love to sit in his shoulder like a parrot, that made you giggle.

Although it was your first time seeing aliens, you weren’t afraid, if anything you trashed every single evidence you had on your theory that “Aliens are not fuckable”, you realized your mistake rather quickly.

“Jane! You came” The god of thunder himself ran towards your scientific friend, “Yeah, uh, Thor this is Y/N, Y/N this is Thor prince of Asgard” she introduced both, as the prince looked down on you and smiled, “Nice to meet you, and thank you for coming” you simply nodded and smiled to him, briefly because he quickly directed his complete attention to Jane, which you thought was very cute.

“She force us to come along with her, and now she dich us for that beach boy himbo?” Darcy spoke watching how Thor took Jane away, you decided to stop your friend, putting your arm in front of her, gaining no more than a look of confusion and resignation. “Let them be, have you ever seen her that happy?” you pointed out.

Later, Darcy met a duck, so she went away too. Alone, you decided to step out of the party, it wasn’t really your thing, and when you were about to do so you got distracted and bump with something, or someone.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention” you looked forward to get a better view on whatever you came against only to realize you hit the Frost Giant’s calf, “It’s ok little darling, are you ok?” his velvet voice roam through your body like an electro shock, “Yes, thank you” and he smiled, kneeling a little to be more or less at your level, fearing that perhaps because of his height he could not hear you.

“Are you having a good time?” He asked never taking his eyes off of your body, which made you blush a little, “I was about to leave actually, my friends are a bit busy” you looked away from him to point at Jane dancing with Thor.

“Are you sure? I mean, you could spend the evening with me if you’d like, like the Midgardian say, hand out with me?” you chuckled which he thought was very cute, “It’s hang out, and yeah I would like that”.

After you corrected him he extended his hand prompting you to climb on it. You realized that he wasn't as big as the distance made him seem, although your entire body fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. He was very careful not to press his fingers too much against you, since he knew how fragile humans are, and admiring at the same time how much fun you had seeing the sights from a new perspective.

Leaning against his index finger you were drifting off, the warm weather made his cold skin very comfortable, and also was all the alcohol making its effect on your body, you were sure (and hoped) that the pain in your stomach was due to the laughs you shared with him, earlier he was telling you war stories and all sort of adventures.

“I just realized I haven’t caught your name yet” he pointed out, pulling you out of your trance, “Y/N, and yours?” you turned your body on his hand so you were facing him, “Loki” he said wholeheartedly, he felt so comfortable around you that he unintentionally forgot to mention his title.

“You look tired little darling, how about if we move this to my room?” you tried to snap out of your tiredness, to try and convince him to let you go, but you ended up just looking at him suspiciously, “No need to worry, I’ll take good care of you” he used his finger to lift up your chin and spoke in a very reassuring way, “I promise” you saw no malice in his eyes, so you let him carry you to his chambers.

The bed was enormous, obviously to support big people like him. He settled himself in the middle as he put you down on the mattress, “Thank you Loki” you said after letting out a yawn, he chuckled and before you could lay down he swiftly put you on top of his chest, fixing the covers enough to cover his bottom half and your body comfortably.

“Thank you, Y/N” your name on his lips was a heavenly sound, his heartbeat lulled you to sleep. He dreamed to kiss you, but he had promised not to do that, yet.

Since he wanted to seize every minute that he was close to you, seeing you asleep so comfortably on his skin filled him with happiness, in his life he had experienced such a pleasant feeling.

"I don't know what spell you have on me, but for Ymir’s sake, I beg you to never take it off" he whispered resting his finger on your back before falling asleep with a smile.

[raineydays411]

My Father's daughter pt1

Summary: After the disastrous gala, you get an unexpected visit from your “mother”and her family. 

A/n: Hello so I feel like the mom character should have a name, so from here on out, your mother's name is Christine. Also i hope y’all like this one cause i feel like it’s going kinda slow.

Growing up was rough. 

Because your mother decided that you and Tony weren’t worth the effort, you had to mature pretty quickly. You’re father had fallen into this deep depression, where he can barely take care of himself. You had to make sure that your father woke up on time for meetings, made sure he ate, drank water, and inevitably had to make sure that he didn’t choke on his own vomit when he got shitfaced. 

Needless to say, you were very mature for nine years old.

But then, a light in the form of Virginia Potts came into your lives. She saw the way you had taken on the role of Tonys caregiver, and was heartbroken. At first she thought it was just pure negligence from Tonys end, but as she spent more time with the both of you, she realized that Tony loved you more than anything in this world. So she stuck around. 

At first you were weary of her. Not really trusting towards older woman, or motherly figures as you were scorned once. But she never gave up. Not on you or your father. No, she stayed even when you would run away on under her watch. She stayed even when you would try and steal your fathers cars for a quick joy ride through Manhattan. And she stayed when you broke down after your mother had people come pick up all her belongings from the Tower, not bothering to come herself and say goodbye. 

She didn’t leave. She held you as you screamed and sobbed as the men packed away everything she owned. She held you even when you squirmed and scratched at her arms to get away. And she held you as you gave up and silently cried then eventually fell asleep, tightly clutching her midsection. 

That's when you started to come around. You stopped running away whenever your father would leave you with her, wouldn’t talk back when she asked you to pick up a mess, and you even helped her out when some creep intern decided to put the moves on her during a company meeting. 

It wasn’t until your father went missing when you truly saw her as someone you could trust. It was the worst three months of your life.  Another parent gone suddenly from your life. You were relocated to mansion in Malibu, a big empty place where the halls echoed as you walked through them. ANd you had thought that Pepper was going to stay back in New York, she wasn’t your assistant after all. You were shocked to see her at the airport, suitcase in tow with a determined look.

Seeing the look of surprise on your face she stated,

“ I’m not going to let you do this alone.” ,then grabbed your hand to lead you through terminal.

You were grateful that she only acknowledged your tears when you were in the privacy of the private jet. She rubbed your back as you let the tears run down your face. The whole three months that you were in her care, your perspective changed.

She asked about your day, made sure you ate, tucked you in and held you whenever you had nightmares. With in that three month period, Pepper showed you what it was like to have a mother again. And she never let you down. 

Then your dad came home, and your family was complete. You were ecstatic when they started dating and even more so when your father announced that they were going to get engaged.

And even though it took years, you finally trusted Pepper enough to see her as your mother. You were happy. 

Which is why you were extra pissed when you came home from your mother-daughter day and saw your biological mother with Bruce Wayne in the common room. They were sitting on the couch and were getting glared at by the Avengers that were home from missions,(Natasha, Steve, and Sam). 

“Dad, what’s going on?” You ask, looking past the hopeful and curious gazes from the couch. 

“Kid, I think you better sit down.” Tony said through slightly clenched teeth. His face was grim, as he looked past you and made eye contact with Pepper. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, and she nodded. She squeezed your shoulders and took your bags, then with a quick glare she had the rest of the room cleared except for the four of you. 

You took a seat across from your mother, Christine and Bruce. She sent a smile your way and was met with a blank look, “ Dad, what’s going on?”

He sighs and makes his way over to were you were seated, “I don’t know, Christine, maybe you should explain.” 

His tone indicated that he knew why she was here, but wanted her to sound stupid. Pepper came over and sat on the t other side of you. 

Christine glanced at the Pepper and cleared her throat, “Perhaps should be kept between family?”

You scoffed, “ Considering that Pep has been around longer than you ever have been, you have no right to decide who’s family to me and whos not.” 

You see Pepper sit up straighter with pride and mother slump. 

You sigh, “ What are you doing here?” 

She looks at Bruce, who you honestly forgot was still there, “ Y/n...I want you to come home with us.” 

A silence filled the room. You felt Pepper tense up at the words and saw your dads and clench into a fist. 

You however just stared in utter disbelief. 

“What.” 

“I know it's far fetched.” Your mother starts, ignoring your scoff, “ But i really do think it would benefit you to come to Gotham with us, and get to know your siblings!” 

You were seething. 

“My siblings? You mean the family that you left us for.”

“Y/n that’s not-”

“No, You think that you can just waltz into my home, after nine years of absolutely no contact, no birthday cards, not even a text to let me know that you were alive, and expect me to what? Just welcome you into open arms? Leave MY family and go live with you?? Really?”  You say with a scoff.

“Y/n there is a ot of factors you are not considering” Bruce chimes in for the first time.

You turn your glare onto him, “ And what you’re just okay with the fact that your wife has a whole other child who she just fucking abandoned?

“Language.” Your father mutters causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Well, I can’t say this didn’t come as a shock.” Bruce states, “ But, I also know that I love my wife, and that I would welcome you to our home.”

Your throat was hurting with the amount if times you’ve scoffed, “ And I appreciate that, really, but I would never leave my family. Especially not for her.”

Christine's eyes start to tear up, “ Y/n please, a girl needs her mother.”

Those words triggered the anger inside you. Your blood boiled and you can tell that she knew she messed up. 

“Oh? Is that right? What about when I was six and I waited for you to come and take me to that mother's day dance, only you never showed up and I went with my nanny. Or when I was eight and you promised that you would take me to get my ears pierced but then you got a phone call and left so dad took me?” 

You saw the tears run down her face as Bruce looked like he was thinking about something.

“Oh and what about when I was nine. I was nine and you promised to take me to the park. You remember that? Cause I do.” 

Tony tenses next to you, knowing what you were about to say.

“Y/n I can never apologize enough but-” You cut her off

“I was NINE and your promised to take me to the park” You continue, “ But you left. And this time you didn’t come back.” You finish and lean forward, “ Tell me, why the HELL would you think that I would want to come live with you and your fucking family?”

The room was once again engulfed in a tense silence. The only sounds were the sniffling of your mother. 

“You’re my baby girl...my petal. I love you and always have...” She starts, “ My biggest regret is leaving you that day and you have to know that Y/n.”

You feel tears start to rise, a knot in your throat. 

Peppers hand squeezes yours and you calm down and say

“Then you’re gonna have to learn to live with it.” 

Then you stand up and walk right out of the room. Leaving the adults and marching straight to the training rooms to let out some steam. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the common room, a tense silence weighed on the adults. It seemed like no one knew exactly what to say, or they didn’t want to speak up.

Only when Tony cleared his throat did Christine speak up again.

“I didn’t come to cause any trouble.” she said quietly.

“What did you think would happen?”Tony says crossing his arms, “Surely you didn’t expect her to leave with you?”

“No Tony I didn’t. I just thought she would’ve considered it. I am still her mother.”

Pepper snorted, causing the attention to turn to her.

Christine's eyes narrowed, “ And who exactly are you to my daughter?”

Tony tensed, knowing not to mess with Pepper especially when it came to you. He sat back and waited for mamma bear to come out.

Pepper sent a glare her way, “ Me? I’m just the woman who has been raising her for the past nine years.”

Before Christine can get another word on Pepper continued on,

“ I don’t know who you think you are, but you have put Y/n and Tony through a lot of turmoil throughout the years. And now you think you can come in here and demand forgiveness from them?? That’s not happening.”

Bruce started to speak up, “I understand the pain you're family must have gone through, and I am sorry about my...unknowing participation, but Christine is willing to work on her relationship with her daughter.”

Now Tony started speaking, “why? Why now? Y/n is practically an adult, she doesn’t need you anymore. Not like she did before.”

“I’m her mother.” Christine said stubbornly, “ She’ll always need her mother.”

“And she has one. Just not you.” Pepper said standing from her spot, “ I think it’s time for you two to leave. I have to go comfort MY daughter.”

And with that Pepper made her way to the door where you disappeared, knowing exactly where you are. But before she left, she turned and said

“It was lovely to meet you Mrs. Wayne”

and left, leaving Tony to show them to the elevator.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide​, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact. 

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again. 

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?” 

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.” 

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably. 

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

*** 

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?” 

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms. 

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.” 

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!” 

*** 

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?” 

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then. 

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.” 

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.” 

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now,  he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now. 

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before. 

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional. 

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the  examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table.  It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it. 

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.” 

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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Hopefully this puts things in greater perspective because some tourists just don’t get it and need to hear this. For those who are curious and looking to travel in the future I hope you find this is informative! :) We could all use more perspective on linguistics and traveling imho. I have made some of these mistakes in the past too. We can all learn to be better guests/tourists. This mindset people have that not only is it okay for tourists to exploit and mistreat local populations, but it’s something that should be encouraged is wrong. You’re not entitled to anything special as a tourist just because you have enough money to play around somewhere “exotic” for a few weeks. Regardless of where people travel to. As a guest in someone else’s home you should put more effort into not being a total asshat. You will have a better time and you might learn something cool along the way. I will mostly be using France as an example since I live here and have more insight, but everything I say applies outside of France as well. Note: This information only applies to tourists. Immigrants and refugees are a unique situation and thus face different challenges and have different needs. A tourist chooses where to go and has time (and money) to plan for their trip, which is often only a few weeks or days. Immigrants and refugees often don’t have that same luxury and remain in the country for far longer. (in many cases permanently) Moving to a country places a greater linguistic and cultural demand on an individual. Remember to check your privilege. tourism =/= immigration/asylum. A) English is not the only language in existence. It might be a widely spoken language, but it’s not the most widely spoken language (that honor goes to Chinese) nor is it the only lingua franca. Chinese, Hindu, Spanish, French, and Arabic are all widely spoken across multiple borders and where you are on the planet will obviously dictate which one of these people go with. If you expect that to be English because your sphere of the internet happens to put you in that bubble of “my language or bust” ignorance then like... that’s on you pal. Get with the times and stop assuming everyone should just speak English. English speakers are not the only tourists and English, though widely used, is not the only other language a person might need. I have a friend from Laos who speaks absolutely no English. He doesn’t need it and never has. (even now) He speaks Lao (the regional dialects can be as different as Thai is from Laotian btw), Chinese, a bit of Thai, and French because they still use a lot of French for business dealings there. (something I didn’t know ngl) Assuming he should just speak English because “everyone else does” is ignorant. It’s rude. It puts no thought into his situation. It’s entitled. He’s traveled to visit friends in England and he has an English phrase book. He doesn’t need a lot of English so like... the phrase book is absolutely perfect. Most of what he does in England is sight see and speak Chinese with his friends. Be more like my friend from Laos. B) Official languages may not be the only language a country speaks within its borders. Regional and native languages exist and expecting the locals to speak a 3rd language on top of all that is unbelievably entitled. France has a number of them. There are people who are born and raised in France who don’t speak French in their day to day life. (or at all) Basque, Breton, Occitan, Alsatian, Yiddish, Ladino, Arabic and a number of others are all spoken within French borders. Many are at risk of being permanently lost (that’s why our new regional language law is important btw) and as a result a greater emphasis is placed on preserving them as opposed to learning something new. Most people have to learn the official language as it’s the only language a lot of countries will accept for paperwork, but anything else is up to the individual and you can suck an egg if you don’t like that. (this also applies to immigrants and refugees btw) Heck there are places in the US where people don’t even speak English day to day! Some places actually speak French or Spanish. I heard more Spanish in my day to day life than I did English where I grew up in NC! (moved to Florida and Spanish exploded. loved it!) C) Borders are a thing. People working and living across borders exist and English is often not the language they chose to go with as a result. France borders Germany, Spain, Italy, Belgium, England, and Switzerland. People who share these borders often choose to go with these languages. English is in there, but please note it’s not the only one. D) Culturally speaking a country may not like [insert common language here] and as a result may refuse to speak it. That’s entirely their choice. If you don’t like that then don’t visit the country. It’s really that easy.  Colonialism is often a major factor at play in these situations. Respect that choice. You do not get a say in how people reclaim their identity. As for France? This might come as a shock to some people, but France doesn’t like England. I’m 100% certain these two places exist solely to punch each other in the nuts. (ball tap. an international past time) As a result getting English people to speak French or French people to speak English is about as easy as pulling your own teeth. I’ve been spit on for speaking English because people here just assume I’m from England or they hate “annoying Americans” and after seeing how y’all responded to the last post I made... yeah I totally get it now. Granted, that’s no excuse for someone being hostile, but it is something to keep in mind when you visit and applies to more than just France too. E) Retail workers and small shop owners don’t owe you shit. You have absolutely no right waltzing into a shop and demanding the staff speak your language (I don’t care how common it is) for the two weeks you’ve decided to play around in their home. Always ask them first. If they can’t or choose not to then tough luck. This is why a phrase book is important!

Retail workers and small shop owners get treated like shit enough. Some of y’all have never worked retail a day in your life and WOW does it show. Please respect retail workers and small shop owners. You don’t know what their day or life has been like. If they’re tired and don’t want to speak to you in a foreign language then that’s their right. I have had no issues using my phone or a phrase book to help communicate concepts when there is a language barrier. (and I fucking live in France. I’m not even visiting) Emergencies also happen and a phrase book or medical card in the native and/or official language is absolutely essential! Even if you just have an allergy to something! This is a great way to stay safe! When you visit another country being aware of and researching cultural differences includes linguistic differences. Tourists are guests. You don’t live here, you don’t get a say. Remember, learning a second language (esp if you don’t use it often) is really hard. If you’re visiting a country do not expect them to just use whatever language you speak. Mind you a phrase book is also important because people within a country may not have a strong grasp on English even if they do speak it. You can very easily get lost or injured without a phrase book to help you. These things allow you to better experience a country and communicate without actually having to learn the entire language... or any of it. And, once again, they exist for free online! You do not need to learn an entire language to visit somewhere, but you need to be prepared for there to be a barrier. People assuming I mean you need to learn a whole language are uh... really something else. Like do you guys think half the people bending over backwards to communicate with you know the full language? Go ahead. Fuck around and find out. ;) Obviously I’m not saying you should be treated poorly when visiting if you don’t know the language. Unfortunately no matter how much effort you put in there will always be someone who’s a jerk and I’m sorry for that. All I’m saying is as a tourist you owe it to yourself and others to be better prepared. Trust me. You’ll have a better time in the end. (and if you did the research you’d find that Paris is not the best first place to visit... even if you’re french lol) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GS64ZT4eWUA Please watch this guy’s video. It is hilarious and touches on a lot of the same points I just made. Thank you for your time. :) ---------------- Cultural tidbit for those who are curious about where I live in France: I live in Alsace currently! (moved from Lyon, but my spouse is from here) In Alsace you might meet people who speak English, but it’s also entirely likely you won’t! Alsace is also a very tourist heavy area because it looks like a German fairy tale and has a lot of tiny villages with cool stuff to do! I highly recommend visiting here over Paris! We have so many storks! (clackclackclack)

Our logo is a pretzel!

That being said, Alsace has its own regional language!

It’s not uncommon to see bilingual signage or to pass someone on the street and hear them speaking Alsatian. You’ll usually hear it from older people, children, or those from rural areas. It’s really fun to listen to and absolutely wild to see written on museum signs!  Kids here will start school learning French, regardless of what they speak at home, which has resulted in a downswing of Alsatian speakers in recent years. That’s why the new regional language law I mentioned waaaaaay above is so important. It’ll allow schools to teach most of the day in Alsatian instead of French with the goal being fully bilingual adults! :) As of right now, most kids here choose German or English (depending on the school) as their second language. Some kids pick Alsatian and honestly? Good for them! I’m glad!

[imkylotrash]

Wouldn’t Change A Thing

Pairing: Riven x reader

Requests: The reader is sarcastic and fiesty and they have constantly arguments but are really into each other. Anonymous And The reader is the only one of her kind so she's automatically an outcast and on top of that she's a dark fairy, like she can control anything to do with shadows and darkness so like the complete opposite of Stella's powers and then Riven like becomes friends with her and it becomes something more than friends. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @grey-girl @intoanothermind​

A/N I wasn’t sure if you meant dark fairy as like evil magic or dark fairy as just her powers being focused on the dark but I did a little mix, so I hope you like it! 

Look down. It’s the first thing you learn at Alfea to avoid the pointing fingers and mean looks. You tried talking back to them but when you’re one against a hundred the odds aren’t really in your favour no matter how badly you want to throw punches. Being a dark fairy meant being considered evil and bad but you just thought of the dark magic as a different kind of magic. You weren’t going around killing people or actively making life miserable for others, you just allowed your magic to be fuelled by something other than positive feelings and in turn you could control darkness. You could play with shadows and darkness creating illusions and conceal the light. Farah had let you attend Alfea in the hopes of turning your magic around but you were born with this magic. Everywhere you looked someone wanted you to be different. The only reason you attended Alfea was to learn control of your powers and be able to harness it better. The same laws of magic applied to yours even if the lessons focused on positive feelings. 

“Hey.” You look up against your better judgement to spot Riven watching you. The one specialist not bound by honour and a crucial need to do the right thing. He was the one person in this entire school who didn’t seem afraid of you despite having seen your powers in full scale. He’d volunteered to be your partner for the training program and ever since that day you’d practically been attached by the hip. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t fancy him but he literally drove you crazy most of the time. He always had some snarky comment ready to piss you off and in truth, you knew he enjoyed it. He liked seeing you all riled up. It’s the very same reason you do it to him. He’s so easy to toy with and get upset, it’s almost too easy. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you today. Aren’t the specialists doing some sort of mission on the forest?” You put air quotes around mission knowing it’ll tick him off just slightly. 

“All I’ve said was hey and you’re already being an absolute asswipe.” 

“Don’t call me an asswipe, you dickhead.” He scoffs ready for a comeback when you start laughing. How have you been together for two minutes and you’re already at each other’s throat. And this isn’t even as bad as it can get for the two of you. 

“I brought you food,” he says clearly still in a mood. You grab the sandwich from him with a smile. 

“You know you can be sweet,” you say hoping it’ll distract him from acting like a sourpuss for the rest of the afternoon. He narrows his eyes looking your way but decides to drop it. Instead he signals for you to follow him out on the field. It’s weird seeing it completely empty but all the fairies are in the hall eating and the specialists are out in the forest which allows a little bit of privacy for the two of you. 

“So, why aren’t you with the others?” You take a bite watching for any indication that he’s not ready to talk about it. You don’t want to push him or make him feel worse. You know he worries about these things even if he’ll never admit to it. 

“I got caught smoking in the forest. Silva told me to stay behind and think about my actions.” You know he’s an avid user of euphoric drugs and alcohol but it’s gotten worse lately and it worries you. 

“Have you then? Thought about your actions.” There it is. The twitch in his brow telling you that he’s reaching his breaking point of being calm to getting angry. Just a slight puff of air could push him over the edge. 

“I’ve passed all my exams so far. What does it matter if I like to smoke a little joint once in a while?” he shrugs trying to sound carefree but you know him better than that. He doesn’t want Silva or Sky to be disappointed in him but lately, it seems like that’s all they’ve been. You get it. The fear of disappointing someone you look up to and deciding to fuck things up yourself so that it’s on your terms. 

“It doesn’t. Except it isn’t just once a while anymore. It’s every day.” 

“And what’s it to you, huh? Since when do you decide what I can and can’t do?” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to do, Riven,” you say getting annoyed by his poor attitude. You can’t help how they feel. All you can do is offer insight and try to make him see where they’re coming from. They want what’s best for him and perhaps they go about it in a misguided way but it’s only because they care. 

“You’re not my girlfriend. You can stop acting like it.” He’s trying to hurt you and it’s working. You’re very aware of the fact that you’re not his girlfriend and right now you don’t want to be. When you get up to leave, he grabs hold of your wrist. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To my room. I’m sure the four walls are better company than you are right now.” You try to shake free but he’s got a strong grip. You don’t want to use your powers to make him let go but you also just really want him to let go. 

“I’m sorry. I’m taking it out on you and that’s not fair.” Some of the anger evaporates but the comment about not being his girlfriend still stings. 

“I don’t want you to change. I just wanted to offer their perspective. You’re wasting away a lot your youth on that stuff.” You return to your seat next to him well aware that you weren’t actually going to leave but the threat seemed to clear his mind. 

“I’m sorry for what I said about you not being my girlfriend.” 

“You’re right, I’m not.” You shrug trying to act unfazed but Riven doesn’t buy it. 

“I really am sorry.” He puts his arm around you letting you lean your head on his shoulder. It’s almost peaceful to sit here watching the sun go down. 

“What if I wanted to be your girlfriend?” You say it so casually you’re even shocked yourself. It sounded like you just told him that you wanted to get cereal for breakfast. Why you even said it baffles you but it’s out now. You’re tired of pretending he’s not the one you want. You don’t see yourself with anyone else and you’d rather have him screaming at you for being his annoying girlfriend than his annoying friend. 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” He visibly swallows and it’s clear that he didn’t expect you to say it. 

“Okay.” This time you’re the one turning into a stuttering mess. Did he just say yes?

“What?” 

“You heard him,” he smirks repeating you from previously. Did you just become his girlfriend? In a sense it’s perfect. You’re not into all the drama and romantic gestures. This moment right here is the perfect moment for you and Riven. 

“Well, girlfriend. I have a proposition for you then,” he smiles and right now you’d agree to pretty much anything he says. You’re still not over how casually you and Riven just became a thing and at the same time being very happy about it. 

“What proposition?” you ask feeling slightly suspicious considering that this is Riven we’re talking about. 

“How about for every time I want a blunt, I’ll come find you and kiss you instead?” His words make you blush and you’re horrified by how much of a silly, little teenager those words turn you into. 

“I’d like that.” 

“I have to warn you though. It might happen quite often.” He leans in to kiss you. 

[olivetreehugger]

Okay so I’m in a brainrot mood too rn but Reiner gives me big service Dom energy. Cause like I feel like if you were to ask him to fuck u till u can’t think straight he’ll do it no problem he just won’t do anything unless u ask of him. Also feel like he’s a praise whore which ties into what I said previously. Aftercare is good too cause he’s such a sweetheart and he would 100% fold if you were to continue to praise him afterwards with kisses.

oh YES

picture this

note: this one’s long, sorry about the crappy grammar it is LATE, also the first time I’ve ever written smut so be gentle lol…also afab reader (honestly written from my perspective let’s be real), MINORS DNI/NSFW

-you come home from work absolutely exhausted, but really all you’re thinking about is how warm and achey it is between your legs

-you’ve been thinking about your husband all day and since he left for work early this morning, he wasn’t able to take care of his baby’s needs

-so you shower, running your hands over your breasts, gently tugging at your nipples as the hot water washes over them. You imagine Reiner’s tongue on them, sucking and tugging with just a tiny bit of teeth, eliciting the softest moans from you

-it grows warmer and wetter down there, the ache becoming almost painful as you think about your husband’s body hovering above you, holding you tight as he ruts his hips into yours, cock buried deep inside you

-you get out of the shower and dry yourself off hurriedly. You need release and you need it NOW

-just as you're about to lay on the bed and start touching yourself, you hear the front door open. a set of keys jingle and you hear, “I’m home, dove!”

-a sigh of relief escapes your lips. you look down at the towel encircling your torso and decide to greet him naked, the idea so tantalizing you can’t resist it.

-“dove? I said I’m home!” He calls, voice laced with concern. You hear his heavy footsteps come closer.

-you confidently you strut into the hallway, naked as the day you were born. you catch him halfway, and he just STARES.

-“hey, baby,” you greet him with a coy smile. you cross your arms behind your back and tilt forward ever so slightly so your breasts take center stage

-hazel eyes slide down your body hungrily just as you’d hoped.

-“are you gonna give me a kiss or are you just gonna stand there?”

-Reiner immediately closes the gap between you both, his lips crashing into yours with such hunger that you think he might just swallow you whole.

- you kiss him desperately, tongue sliding into his mouth, eager to taste him, to swallow his worries and stress and just take him into you

-without releasing your mouth, Reiner scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom

-he gently lays you down, only breaking the kiss to look into your eyes and tell you how beautiful you look

- “all for you, my love” you breathe, running one of your hands over his clothed dick.

-a soft grunt leaves his lips; he’s rock hard.

-“tell me what you want” he says, tearing his clothes away, revealing bit by bit his stunning figure. Finally he pulls off his pants, his cock springing free and into your awaiting hands.

-as you wrap your fingers around his thick member, he groans, and you smile because you know he is just as desperate for this, if not more.

-your eyes are on his face, his chest, his dick. God he’s so fucking hot, you think to yourself. how'd I get this lucky?

- “fuck me silly,” you say, one hand snaking down to touch yourself. “fuck me until I cant think straight.”

- Reiner‘s eyes are focused exactly where you want them to be—on your pussy. You jerk his cock up and down with one hand and touch your wet folds with the other.

-his mouth waters as he watches you caress his cock, tugging the silky skin on the head just the way he liked, while you pump your fingers in and out of yourself.

-you look like a goddess

-“on your back” he growls

-you don’t need to be told twice

-you spread your legs for him and give him the most innocent look with your doe-like eyes, batting your lashes at him with a look that says “come hither”

-it gets him every time

-Reiner gets to work right away, tongue finding your sensitive clit immediately and swirling his tongue around it, sending shockwaves down your spine. you moan shamelessly as he alternates between sucking your clit and lapping up the wetness between your folds, while occasionally dipping his tongue inside you

- “oh, Reiner…” you breathe, the pleasure so intense you can barely speak. “You’re so amazing at this, your mouth feels so good!”

-you know he loves to be praised because he buries his head deeper between your thighs, his pace more fervent

- “I-ah-missed you s-so much today, ah, I m-missed my husband,” you moan, losing your ability to form a coherent sentence

-reiner only stops to say, “I missed you too, sweetheart, now let me hear those gorgeous moans”

-he loves seeing you like this, so desperate for him, unraveling you to your core as he works you towards oblivion -you feel yourself getting closer and closer as he continues his worship of your pussy, and it just hurts so good you don’t want it to end-

- “don’t wanna cum yet,” you squeak, voice hardly a whisper

-Reiner lifts his head, and you giggle because his nose, mouth and chin are coated in a thin sheen of your slick

-“are you sure, dove?” He asks, gently squeezing your thighs

-you nod. Yes, you’re sure. You know this orgasm is going to be a good one and you desperately want to cum with him. He’ll be thanking you later anyway

-Reiner stands up quickly, leaning against the bed to position himself.

-you love how big he his. He could manhandle you, toss you around, whatever. but he doesn’t. he is so gentle that even when you‘re making love, he thrusts ever so slowly and gently, watching your face for any twist of discomfort or pain

-he presses his cock against your hole, and you tilt your hips upwards frantically

-you need him so bad you think youre going to explode

-“just fuck me baby…please!” You beg, squirming with anticipation.

-a light chuckle ripples from his chest as he pushes your hips back down.

-“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Let me work.”

-ever so carefully, reiner lines himself up to you and pushes his hips forward. your pussy stretches so deliciously as he slides into you. A gasp of pure ecstasy falls from your lips.

-reiner throws his head back and lets out the most gutteral moan as he bottoms out inside you. Your pussy is the most intoxicating thing in the world to him.

-“you’re so wet for me, dove…” he grunts, his hips pulling back, only to ram them forward again

-you cry out in pleasure as his cock fills you to the brim, the suction of your pussy creating a delicious dragging sensation as he fucked you. It was electrifying

-“look how good you are, baby,” reiner rambles, his voice husky and needy. “my sweet girl, taking me so easily, fuck you’re so tight”

-as he slams into you, the ache in your pussy turns into absolute ecstasy, it twists into a knot inside your lower abdomen and coils tighter and tighter with every thrust.

- “I love you”, you cry out, over and over. “nnh, oh my god, you feel so good love…”

-you can tell he’s starting to unravel because his breathy moans are getting louder and his thrusts are more erratic.

-the knot in your abdomen is getting tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. reiner’s tip is kissing that sweet spot inside you so perfectly, you can feel yourself nearing the edge

-“I’m about to cum!” you squeal, drunk on the feeling of his dick in you. the knot inside you snaps and you tumble into bliss, your walls pulsing around him, drowning his cock in velvety, tight, soaking wet paradise.

-reiner comes undone, spilling himself into you as he gives in to euphoria. he moans sweet nothings into your ear as his hot, white cum coats your walls.

-“fuck I love you”

-“you feel so amazing”

- “you’re so damn perfect”

-The two of you lay like this for a while, him laying on top of you, still inside your warm inner pocket. He gently presses kisses to your shoulder and neck.

-as he continues to pepper you with kisses and praise, you recognize that it was a good idea that you didn’t touch yourself in the shower.

-

-

-

[momsopposed2theoccult]

It’s come to my attention that a good majority of people on this website have a really poor understanding of the conflict between Toph and Katara in “The Chase.” As somebody who loves both characters and their friendship, this irritates me. Without further ado, let’s unpack that in what is in theory supposed to be a meta but turned out more like a rant. 

“Katara was hostile towards Toph because the fact that she’s a gender non-conforming girl made Katara uncomfortable because Katara is obsessed with gender roles.”

Alright, so right off the bat this is just... completely idiotic and clearly fuelled by an agenda (and likely also a lot of projection). First of all, how is Katara of “I don’t want to heal, I want to fight!” fame “obsessed with gender roles?” There’s an entire episode in Book One dedicated to Katara refusing to conform to societal norms for women in the Northern Water Tribe! Katara routinely calls Sokka out on his misogynistic bullshit! (Mind you I adore Sokka but he could be a little twerp at times and Katara was 100% right to challenge him on it) Katara is the feminist icon of ATLA! The fact that people act like Katara is some sort of conservative tradwife who loves gender roles instead of the outspoken feminist and political activist she is makes me incredibly angry.

Second of all, Katara was extremely kind and welcoming towards Toph at first. She gently encouraged her to join in with the group as they all set up camp together as opposed to setting up her own private camp. It’s only when Toph refuses to comply with her that Katara begins to get irritated. Mind you, Toph has her reasons for this, something I’ll get to in a minute, but from Katara’s perspective (key word here is perspective) she’s just being an annoying little stubborn, selfish, lazy, anti-social, entitled brat. Of course we the audience find out later that this isn’t the case at all (or at least in theory we should find out later but apparently some people on here skipped that part), but for all her many talents Katara is not a mind reader and has no way of knowing what’s going on inside Toph’s head, nor does she know her well enough yet to fully grasp the context behind why Toph acts the way she does. Katara is somebody who greatly values community and believes in teamwork, so Toph turning down her warm welcome in favour of “carrying her own weight” likely felt like a slap in the face. Not to mention that she’s already emotionally exhausted from having to constantly mother Aang and Sokka. If I were Katara, I likely would have reacted the same way. 

Oh and I agree that the “the stars look beautiful tonight, too bad you can’t see them, Toph” comment was out of line, but it doesn’t make her a horrible person. It makes her a 14 year old, and 14 year olds can be nasty, especially sleep deprived 14 year olds. Katara is otherwise a very kind and compassionate person. Other characters have said worse than that. Hell, Toph herself has said worse than that. That being said, it was a deeply hurtful comment and I do like to imagine that she apologized for it off-screen. 

“Toph is a lazy, entitled, and classist spoiled rich brat who just didn’t want to do chores and expected other people to wait on her.” 

This is another one that makes me roll my eyes and ask if they even watched the show. First of all, the presumption that Toph is a lazy or entitled person is just... laughable. I feel like people forget that Toph isn’t actually an earthbending prodigy in the way that Azula is a firebending prodigy (I could say more about Azula and how her belief that she was the unshakeable prodigal daughter ultimately caused her downfall and how by the end of the series Zuko is arguably a better firebender than her but this isn’t a meta about Azula and Zuko, now is it?). Nah. Toph was a sheltered kid who discovered she had the ability to earthbend, was told that she could never become great at it because she was blind, and in response said FUCK THAT and decided to work her ass off until she was not only great but the very greatest all thanks to her crazy, stupid, off-the-charts nerve, drive, grit, ambition, and desire to prove people wrong about her. Does that sound like a lazy person to you? Believe me when I say that you do not achieve that kind of skill level by sitting around on your ass and expecting to have things handed to you. And entitled? Don’t make me laugh. Toph hates having things handed to her, that’s one of her defining characteristics. 

As for the implication that she’s classist and enjoys basking in her family’s wealth and being waited on...... are you stupid? Did you even watch the show? Toph absolutely despises everything about her parents’ lifestyle. Growing up like that was traumatizing and restrictive for her. We’re talking about a girl who likes to play around in the mud for fuck’s sake. Toph does not care how much money you have. She never wanted any to begin with. She even says it herself; “I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. They gave me everything I could have wanted. But they never gave me what I actually needed - their love.” Not to mention that she easily could have continued to freeload off her parents wealth but instead chose to sneak out of the house and make her own money doing what she did best; disproving people’s assumptions about her earthbending. Oh and I’ve seen someone point this out before but WWE is generally considered a “low brow” activity that “proper” people frown upon and shouldn’t associate themselves with. Toph fucking loved it. I don’t know how seriously people take the comics, as they often miss the mark when it comes to characterization (Toph’s, however, was generally pretty accurate), but there’s a part in The Rift where Sokka asks her when she’s going to start charging people to learn metalbending and she gets all serious and flat out tells him that she will never do such a thing, because money doesn’t matter to her. Sharing her one true passion with the world is what matters to her. Oh and the part where she basically tells a bunch of rich and sleazy businessmen to fuck off and “stop thinking about money and start thinking about people’s lives” is just... *chef’s kiss* Sorry my thoughts here are so incoherent but this take is so piss poor and makes me so angry that I don’t even know where to start. As for “Toph enjoys being waited on” I just- *sigh* Toph has such a visceral and defensive reaction to any implication that she is unable to take care of herself. Like I said earlier, that’s one of her defining characteristics as well as the reason for her behaviour in “The Chase.” Where are people getting these takes?

You wanna know why Toph acted the way she did in The Chase? Well, first let’s recap her life up to this point. Toph was born the blind daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the Earth Kingdom. From day one her parents treated her like glass due to her disability. She was not allowed to leave her house unsupervised, and even then she was only permitted to walk around the gardens of her home. Every day of her life she was pitied, gaslit, babied, ignored, emotionally neglected, and made to feel ashamed of herself. She was not allowed to make any decisions for herself. She was not allowed to do anything for herself. She was not allowed to talk to other children. She had no friends. Other people didn’t even know she existed on account that her parents kept her locked up in her own home and didn’t tell anybody about her because they were so ashamed to have a blind daughter. Flash forward to “The Chase.” Toph begins to set up her own camp separate from the rest of the Gaang. Considering that she flat out was not socialized as a child and hadn’t even interacted with anybody her own age prior to a few days ago, this is understandable. So then Katara comes up to her and asks her why she isn’t setting up camp with the others as if she’s somehow incapable of taking care of herself (again, this is just what happened from her perspective) like she’s her mom or something and it just angers her because she thought she joined this group to get away from all that and she doesn’t understand how friends work because she’s never had one, all she knows is that apparently this girl thinks she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, and that infuriates her because it’s the exact same bullshit she thought she was running away from.

There’s a lot more I could say about this but I’m sick of typing so yeah in conclusion both of these takes are piss poor and I’m sick of having to read them. Stan Toph, Katara, and their friendship.