#yeah i still don’t know how i feel

[ghostlovesbaguettes]

HE WHIMPERED GUYS. JOEL FINALLY WHIMPERED AGAIN. THIS IS IT. THIS IS EVERYTHING IVE EVER WANTED. #ifhedoesntwhimperiaintfreakinit

outfuckingstanding job on this bookie. live laugh fucking loved this shit. i was reading this and it’s talking all about how ciggies feel and i’m like ohhh yeah yeah right. i’ve literally never touched a cigarette before. and yet i was absolutely freakin with this shit 😏😏😏😩😩✋😋 (gobble gobble)

anyway i literally made this before i even finished the story

Bad Habit

“Don’t you ever start smokin’. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it,” he said, exhaling smoke. “I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”

After Joel catches you smoking, he gives you something else to put between your lips. (7.2k)

Tags - dbf!joel, neighbor!joel, pervy/sleazy yet comforting Joel, cock from a man who could be your second father, smut, smoking, dubcon elements, blowjobs, masturbation, joel jorks it, oral sex, unprotected piv, creampie, joel makes you smoke until you’re sick to your stomach, vomiting, gratuitous use of the nickname ‘kiddo’ because I am who I am, dubcon, the other stuff Fic help - thank you my dearest @noxturnalpascal for editing <3 and @pinkypromisepascal for giving me your eyeballs and leaving lovely comments, my other main squeezes for brainstorming with me!! @endlessthxxghts @beefrobeefcal A/N - heddo!I sorry for the delay on getting this out. fic posting will continue to be sporadic and weird for a while so thank you for being patient <3 i hope you all have a safe week and I love you very much 🫂💕 definitely didn’t skip class to finish this and watch gilmore girls btw so if you hear that rumor about me it is bullshit it is not true at all

The cool, late-summer air blows gently on your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you sit next to your open window, headphones on, Fiona Apple’s When The Pawn… playing in your ears. You take a long drag of your cigarette and let it fill and burn your lungs, then blow the smoke outside. The sun is setting, the dim light making everything in your room look like a black and white movie, even your own hand in front of you. You love nights like these. 

Eyes gently shut, you’re lost in thought when a tapping on the glass startles you. You gasp when you see Joel, his big hand clutching a large garbage bag. He must have seen you on his way taking the trash out. 

Joel’s your neighbor, he’s been your neighbor all your life. He’s your dad’s closest friend as well, and had a heavy hand in raising you. You used to eat at his house for dinner on Sunday nights, a tradition that’s lasted to present day. As a teenager, you’d spend days and nights at his house when you and your dad weren’t getting along, needing some space from each other. Joel was always a safe person for you to go to. His guest room practically became your second bedroom by the time you graduated. Joel taught you card games, and would make you root beer floats while you played round after round of Rummy. 

Joel was actually the first person to introduce you to smoking. Unintentionally, of course. You can remember him always smelling warmly of tobacco, smelling it on his hair, skin, and clothes when you’d hug him. When you were younger, he told you once, cigarette in his mouth, “Don’t you ever start smokin’. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it,” he said, exhaling smoke, “I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”

“Hey, trouble,” Joel drawls. “You ain’t ‘sposed to be smokin’ that.” 

Joel reaches for your cigarettes and pulls it from your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He examines it, chuckling quietly at the feeling of the stickiness of your lipgloss on the rolling paper. He brings it to his mouth, then takes a couple puffs before stubbing the cigarette out on the sole of his shoe, then disposes it in his garbage bag. Your dad doesn’t need to see your old cigarette stubs when he’s mowing the lawn. “Don’t let me catch ya again,” he warns, then presses a warm kiss to your forehead, mustache tickling your skin. “Get some sleep. G’night, kiddo.”

This isn’t the first time Joel’s caught you smoking. The first time he did, you were probably around eighteen years old. You remember that it was around Thanksgiving, the leaves were still falling off the trees and the air was chilly. It was an evening when Joel and your dad were hanging out in the kitchen, watching a Bears and Cowboys game on TV. Rooting for the opposite teams, your dad and Joel were barking at each other, getting loud and rowdy. There was no escape from the noise, so you snuck out of your bedroom window and just started walking. Joel left his garage door open, so you decided to hang out there. You admired the posters on the wall, Nirvana and The Rolling Stones. Different liquor brand artwork, picked up from when he used to work as a bartender. The garage never changed, always had that faint smell of cigarettes permeating the air. 

Cigarettes. They were on the workbench in the back of the garage, a pack of Marlboro reds just sitting there, waiting to be smoked. To the left of the pack, a little white Bic lighter. You weren’t sure what came over you at that moment but you palmed both items, then peeked over your shoulder to make sure you really were as alone as you thought you were. You held your breath and focused hard, and found that you were able to hear the faint sounds of Joel and your dad yelling. You were in the clear. 

You opened the worn pack of Marlboros and pulled out one of the cigarettes, the first time you ever held one in your hand. You rolled it between your fingers, inspecting it, before you brought it to your nose to smell the tobacco. With trembling hands you placed the cigarette between your lips, and as you fumbled with the little white lighter, Joel’s warning played over and over again in your mind. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it.

But Joel wasn’t there. And what Joel didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. So you lit the cigarette and inhaled, then coughed a bit at the sensation. It was harsh, made your throat feel itchy and scratchy. You didn’t like the way the smoke burned your lungs and you couldn’t wrap your head around how Joel - anyone, for that matter - could become addicted to something as unpleasant as this. You took another puff for the sake of experimenting and you were met with the same experience. Unpleasant. But by the third or fourth drag, you felt the beginning of that headrush everyone talks about. A lightheaded, hazy sort of feeling. Now that…that wasn’t quite so unpleasant. You could see exactly how cigarettes could relieve stress. Taking another puff, you thought maybe you’d steal one or two more from the pack, save them for the end of the week. Smoke them when you’re home from school, before your dad or Joel could see you. And then you’ll shower real quick, wash your hair and brush your teeth and toss your clothes in the washer and -

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” 

Shit. 

You pulled the cigarette out of your mouth and stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray on Joel’s workbench. “N-nothing.” 

“Bullshit, you’re smokin’,” Joel bit, approaching you through the open garage door. “So help me god, kid...” He snatched his pack of cigarettes from you, along with his lighter. “Stealin’, too. These are my smokes. What the fuck’s the matter with you?” 

“Joel, I’m sorry. I-” 

“You ain’t sorry, yet. Get in the truck.” 

“Joel-”

“Get. In. The fucking. Truck.” he seethed. He wore such a threatening scowl, and his face and neck were red, veins bulging in his skin as his anger grew. 

You scurried into his truck that sat on the driveway and Joel followed suit, slamming the door shut before turning the key into the ignition. Even the truck sounded angry as it roared to life. Joel shifted into reverse and drove you down the street, to the nearest gas station. “Stay there,” he ordered. 

You awaited his return anxiously, picking at your nails. Joel returned with a new pack of Marlboro reds and drove back to his home. “Garage,” he said. 

“But my dad-”

“Garage.” 

 If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it.

Joel made good on his promise. He sat you down in front of the workbench, right where you were before. He lowered the garage door until it rested just about a foot off the ground so that the smoke had somewhere to go. Then he sat in front of you, hit the pack of cigarettes on his palm five times before unwrapping the cellophane and opening the pack. Joel took one cigarette out and flipped it upside down in the pack. 

“What are you doing?”

“Christ almighty,” he sighs. “You’re so fuckin’ young. You pack the cigarettes first, so they burn smoother an’ longer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. And then you flip your lucky - just the one cigarette.” Joel pulled the upside down cigarette from the pack to demonstrate. “Old World War II tradition, if I’m not mistaken. ‘Sposed to be a good luck charm.” 

Joel pulled one cigarette from the pack for you, placed it between your lips and lit it. He could see the confused expression on your face as you inhale and exhale. 

“Just you wait,” he said. “I promise you, this is a punishment.” 

“How?”

“You’re gonna sit here with me and smoke every last cigarette in that pack. I don’t care f’your lungs start to burn and you feel sick to your stomach, you’re smokin’ ‘em all,” he said. “Now get to it.” 

Joel watched you as you smoked cigarette after cigarette. He was right, your lungs did start to ache and hurt and your stomach had begun to feel queasy from all the nicotine. After about the sixth or seventh, you had figured out that you could make things a little easier on yourself by not breathing in the smoke all the way, just let it hang out in your mouth instead. 

“I started smokin’ when I was around your age,” Joel said as he lit another cigarette for you. “Couldn’t ‘a been older than seventeen.”

You nodded. 

“Why’d you pick this habit up, huh? You know these things aren’t any good for ya.” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, ashing onto the garage floor. “I just…I don’t know. Stressed out.”

“‘Bout what?”

You shrugged. “Just everything, I guess.” 

Joel nodded. “I get it,” he said. “But there’s other ways of relievin’ stress that ain’t smokin’.” 

“Like what?”

“Well,” Joel began, looking down at his lap. “The cigarettes are causin’ that brain of yours to release those feel-good chemicals. You gotta find something else that feels good, hon. M’sure you’ll figure out what that means.” 

 You felt your cheeks heat up at the implication of how to get your endorphins flowing, but you knew he wasn’t wrong. You nodded shyly. 

“Now keep smokin’.” 

“Joel,” you whined, coughing dryly. 

“Keep it up,” he threatened, “I’ll make it two packs.” 

What felt like hours passed until you finally made it to the last two cigarettes in the pack, and you felt ill. “C’mon,” Joel said. “Last two. I’m smokin’ the last one with ya, and then we’re done, both of us,” he promised. He lit his cigarette first, then yours, and then took a drag. You did too, though it was agony. 

“I don’t feel so good, Joel,” you told him, clutching your stomach and squirming in your seat as the nauseating feeling in your stomach worsened. 

“Good,” Joel retorted. “Means the punishment’s workin’. You ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” You looked at Joel with glassy eyes, your skin a little damp with sweat. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You shook your head. Your stomach churned harder, you felt your mouth salivate as your heart began to beat faster. There was no more staving off the feeling - you dropped your cigarette and sprinted inside, making a beeline for Joel’s bathroom. Joel followed close behind and rubbed your back as you emptied your guts into his toilet until you were dry-heaving. “Oh, I know, I know,” he whispered, patting you gently. “You’re gonna be okay.” 

“Fuck,” you groaned, lifting your head up and leaning back to rest against Joel. He flushed the toilet for you, then helped you up so you could rinse your mouth out in the sink. 

“It don’t feel too good, huh?” he murmured, stroking the side of your face. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna quit smokin’?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m done.”

“Attagirl,” Joel smiled. 

Joel offered you some Pepto-Bismol and guided you to his couch, where he held you and talked. After about forty-five minutes, he sent you home. Your dad was none the wiser, probably passed out on his own couch after the game. Joel kept your secret under the condition that you’d quit smoking for good, and he quit too. In all honesty, he was shaken that it was his cigarettes you’d stolen, and disturbed by the fact he was the one to introduce you to tobacco - your dad didn’t smoke, never has. He had unknowingly introduced you to it, of course, but Joel still held himself responsible. Joel meant it, smoking that last cigarette with you. He decided that night he was quitting cold turkey. He was done.

-

You should have been done too. You shouldn’t still be doing this. And that pack of Marlboros in your purse shouldn’t be there, you should have thrown it out the other night when Joel caught you smoking out of your window. But you’re in Joel’s backyard, cigarette between your fingers as you listen to the sounds of the family barbecue taking place in your own backyard. 

It was just too much. Your family increases in size every year, be it a new partner, new family friends, new children. And your family is loud. Every conversation happens using raised voices, even if no one is speaking in anger. Boisterous laughter, dogs barking, shrill squeals of excited kids running through sprinklers. There’s no escape from it at all, unless you’re to escape it entirely - so that’s exactly what you did, and why you’re at Joel’s house instead of your own. You needed a momentary reprieve. Separated by nothing more than a thin fence and yet it makes all the difference. Joel’s backyard is quiet, serene. He keeps his fence lined with flowers that he had you pick out at the nursery, he has a nice deck with a comfortable patio furniture set. You rock back and forth in one of the chairs as you smoke, promising yourself after this cigarette - or maybe just one more - you’ll go back to the party. 

The glass patio door slides open, causing you to jump and scramble to put your cigarette out, but you’re too late. Joel’s always a step ahead, somehow. “What are you doin’, kiddo?” he asks in a low, accusatory tone. 

“Nothing,” you lie. 

“You’re smokin’.”

You hang your head. Joel sits in the chair next to you and holds out his hand, palm facing up. You sigh and place your pack in his hand. “I’m sorry.” 

“Uh-huh,” Joel says. “Why’re you still doin’ this? You’re poisoning yourself, sweetheart. It’s breakin’ my heart.” 

You shrug. “I don’t know,” you admit. You open your mouth to speak again, then exhale when you give up. 

“I want you to try,” he urges. “Jus’ talk to me, hon, you’re not in trouble right now. Tell me what’s goin’ on.” 

“Okay,” you nod. You take a deep breath, then begin to explain. “I want to quit, Joel. I do. I tried gum and patches…”

“Go on. I’m listenin’.” 

“They worked for a while, I guess. I was even able to stop entirely, get past the nicotine withdrawals. They weren’t even so bad.” 

“Right,” Joel nods, “But what?”

“It’s stupid.” 

“S’not stupid. Keep tellin’ me.” 

“I missed the ritual of it all, if that makes sense,” you confess. “ Lighting it, holding it. Watching the smoke. Feeling it in my mouth.” You find the courage to look at Joel, and he’s not making fun of you for your admission. He’s nodding along, listening intently. “It’s sort of soothing.” 

“I get it,” he says. “I do.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. S’called an oral fixation, sweetheart. Means it calms ya down to have somethin’ in that mouth of yours. You heard of it?” You shake your head no, and Joel explains further. “Same reason some people bite their nails or chew on straws. Jus’ somethin’ people do.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mhm. You should try keepin’ your mouth busy with somethin’ else.” 

Your mouth goes dry, and you feel yourself becoming flustered. “Joel…” you whisper. 

“Quite the imagination you got there, huh?” he smirks, nudging your knee with his own. “M’not talkin’ about that, dirty bird. Do you have a sweet tooth at all?”

“Um,” you hum, “I guess.” 

“I got a sweet tooth myself,” Joel replies. “C’mon inside.” 

Joel leads you inside, and he doesn’t bother to sneakily throw your cigarettes in the trash. He makes sure you can see it, hear the thud of the pack hitting the bottom of the can. You stand in his kitchen as he opens his freezer and rifles through some items. “Pick a flavor,” he says, “I got green apple, grape, cherry, and lemon.” 

“Cherry,” you answer. 

Joel pulls out a cherry-flavored popsicle and unwraps it for you. “Open,” he says, then places the cold, sweet and tart ice on your tongue. Your hand brushes his when you grab the wooden stick, watching him. You can see the way his pupils dilate when you suck on it, how his chest rises when he sucks in a deep breath. Joel feels his cock begin to thicken in his jeans and abruptly clears his throat. “So, uh, anyway,” he stutters, “It helps to suck on somethin’ sweet. I’ll keep my freezer stocked with these for ya, you just let me know if you have any flavor requests. You help yourself anytime you’re havin’ one of your cravings.”

You pull the popsicle from your mouth, your lips stained red. “Thanks, Joel,” you smile. 

“You’d best get back to that party, hon. I’ll catch up with ya in a minute, nature’s callin’,” he teases, quickly excusing himself into his nearby bathroom. He hears you giggle and whine, “Gross,” as you leave his house. Joel watches you through the frosted bathroom window as you sneak back into the party. He’s palming his growing bulge, pressing his hand firmly against it until he can’t see you anymore, then quickly unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock, leaking and hard. He spits into his hand and strokes himself, his rough palm sliding up and down his thick, veiny cock, squeezing hard. He pumps himself and groans when he comes, spilling into his palm and on his fingers. Joel washes his hands, tucks himself back into his jeans and makes his way back to the barbecue. 

-

You’re in Joel’s truck. It was a long day of work, the phone was ringing nonstop and you could hardly catch a break, though Joel gave you extra time on your lunch to make up for the crappy day. He has you helping him out with his contracting job, having you answer phones and schedule estimates and whatnot. He likes having you around, giving you a little money to burn as you expand your resume. 

At six, Joel tossed you his truck keys and told you he’d be right out there, but that he’s gotta finish up with a client real quick first. “Go ‘head and start up the truck for me, hon, I’ll be out there soon. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes,” he promised. But that was an hour ago, and it’s beginning to get dark. You’re itching to leave. On days you work with Joel, he’s your ride. Oftentimes it’s a blessing as he’s the one paying for gas and driving through traffic, but other times, it’s a curse. You’re on Joel’s time, itching to leave and he’s…doing whatever he’s doing.

You’re getting that feeling again. You’re not sure why, but it’s been happening more and more lately. You’ve been absolutely craving a cigarette recently. Just one, maybe two. You shouldn’t have done it, but you bought a pack at the gas station. Promised yourself you’d save it for special occasions but after this pack, you’d be done. For good. 

You’re just dying for one right now. Turning the pack over in your hand, you watch, anticipating seeing Joel leaving the building. But it never happens. Fuck it. You take a cigarette out of your pack and place it between your lips, and just before you light it, you stop. You look around in his truck, see if he’s got a straw from a fast food restaurant in his glove box that you could chew on, maybe a toothpick. At least you tried. It certainly doesn’t help that it smells like cigarette smoke in here anyway, what with Tommy always smoking when he drives with Joel. You resign yourself to lighting the cigarette, inhaling that smoke you missed so much. That familiar burn doesn’t quite hurt the same way it used to and in fact, it’s a welcome pain now. You love that tingly, heady feeling of the nicotine entering your bloodstream. You exhale the smoke out of the window of the truck and close your eyes. 

You think about lots of things, what you’re gonna eat for dinner when you get home, what movie you’re gonna watch. What flavor popsicle you’ll steal from Joel’s freezer. You think about which vibrator you’re gonna use between your thighs, which ones are charged and which aren’t. 

You’re not being subtle. Shamelessly blowing smoke out of the window, Joel can see you. And in fact, he’s been watching you. He’s fuming as he walks toward his truck and opens his door, startling you and causing you to drop the lit cigarette on your lap. “You are un-fuckin’-believable,” he seethes as he leans over you to pick it up off of your thighs and tosses it out of the window. “In my truck? Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Joel, I’m sorry–”

“Shut up,” he interrupts. “You pissed me off. I don’t wanna hear it.” 

You shrink into your seat and stare at your lap, anxiously circling your thumbs around each other as Joel breathes deeply. He leans back in the driver’s seat and pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning angrily. 

“Joel–”

“Don’t.”

In Joel’s head, he counts backwards from ten, attempting to let go of some of his rage. He looks at you, your eyes are big and pleading, those plump lips of yours are pouting, just begging, aching for something to fit snugly between them. “What am I gonna do with you, kiddo,” he whispers, reaching for your face and cupping your cheek. Fuck, that goddamn soft spot he has for you. “All sorts ‘a trouble you could go an’ get yourself into and you pick the one that’s makin’ you sick.” 

You nod, feeling guilty for putting Joel through this stress. You know he’s right. You’re gonna drive him to pick up the addiction again himself.

He rubs his calloused thumb back and forth over your cheekbone, looking at you with those big, brown eyes of his. They’re sparkling under the diminishing daylight, looking darker than they usually do. He’s so handsome. He’s always been so handsome. 

“Maybe you need to get into a different kinda trouble,” Joel murmurs. 

You pause. “Like what?”

“You know what kinda trouble,” he answers softly, assertively. You look down at his lap and notice that with his free hand, he’s begun palming his crotch, cock hardening in his jeans. “Somethin’ else to satisfy that fuckin’ fixation of yours.”

Joel unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out, half hard and growing. “Gimme your hand,” he instructs. He doesn’t wait for you to comply, and takes the pack of Marlboros you had forgotten you were holding out of your hand. He takes your hand and first spits in it, then wraps it around his cock, his fingers wrapped around your wrist as he helps you stroke him. His cock grows to full length in your hand, so thick and hard and meaty. “On your knees, now,” he says. “C’mon. You know what you’re doin’.” 

You sink to your knees and Joel slides to the center of the seat so you’re as close to him as can be. He spreads his legs apart and you slot yourself snugly between them, a hand on each one of his thick thighs. It feels surreal, being in this position. Joel senses your nervousness, and you look so vulnerable on your knees for him. Poor thing. 

He leans forward a little to tangle his fingers in your hair and then pulls you down, ushering you toward his hard cock. “Open up f’me,” he says. You part your lips and he presses the warm, blunt head against them. You open your jaw wider and he pushes you down on his cock, filling your mouth entirely. “Nice an’ wide. That’s it.” 

Joel keeps pushing you down, past the point of comfortability and you choke and sputter on his cock when he hits the back of your throat. “Just relax a minute,” Joel says. “An’ breathe through your nose, kiddo. You’ll get used to it.” 

With his hand tangled in your hair, it’s less of you moving of your own volition and more of Joel guiding you, making you take him down your throat the way he wants you to. You like that. As your head dips lower and bobs back up again, you swirl and drag your tongue along his shaft, tasting that heady, musky flavor of his cock, the salty precum when your tongue slides over his small slit.“Yeah, you know what to do,” Joel groans. “Ohh, that’s it. Good girl.” 

You feel his cock pulsing under your tongue, a welcome experience. There’s something so intimate and satisfying about learning all of the exact, fine details of what Joel’s pleasure looks and tastes like. He rolls his hips to meet you where you’re at, taking control of his pleasure, doing all the work himself. Sweat is beginning to gather on his body, dripping down his temples and gathering on his soft tummy. He can’t help but feel a little like he’s taking advantage of you right now, but he doesn’t feel bad enough to stop. In fact, it turns him on more. Joel thinks that maybe it even turns you on, too, what with the way you let out quiet, sweet little moans. “You like it, don’t you, baby?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you hum. 

“I know you do,” Joel coos. “Feels good, don’t it?”

You nod your head, moaning as you slide your tongue along his length, swirling it around his head before dipping lower again, your nose buried in those thick curls spattered around the base of his cock, dampened by your saliva. “What a mess you’re makin’,” Joel murmurs, enjoying those wet, sloppy noises you’re making. “Such a good girl f’me, you’re takin’ it so good.” 

You reach for his balls, cupping them and rolling them gently in your palm, eliciting a sharp gasp from Joel. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, “That’s it, kiddo, keep doin’ it jus’ like that. Goddamn.” 

Joel basks in the feeling of being inside your hot, wet mouth, feeling you suck and slobber on him, the dizzying feeling of your tongue teasing his shaft and his head. It’s all so soft, so slick and warm. He can feel it in his stomach, his balls begin to tighten as he approaches release. Joel takes your head in both of his big, masculine hands and fucks your mouth hard. “Oh, Christ,” he hisses. “Fuck, ohhh, fuck.” 

With just a few more deep, frenetic thrusts, Joel comes in your mouth without a warning, just a guttural, deep groan. He paints your tongue with his hot, salty spend, ropes and ropes of it spurting from his thick, twitching cock. He fucks your mouth through his orgasm, his thrusts turning slower, more shallow in time as you take every last bit of his come, swallowing it all. 

“Up,” he tells you, his voice raspy. “C’mere.” 

You sit next to Joel as he comes down from his high, his deep breathing beginning to regulate. Joel looks at you, wipes a bit of his come from your bottom lip with his thumb and pushes it inside your mouth, where you suck the digit and lick the spend. “S’all you needed, huh? My cock in your mouth?” Your face is hot and a little damp with sweat, your lips all swollen as you nod, a little sheepish. “No need to be bashful, sweetheart. S’okay. F’it works, it works.” 

Joel adjusts his jeans and turns up the air conditioner, then scoots back over into the driver’s seat. He pulls you close to his body, tucking you into his side as he shifts the truck into reverse, then drives out of the parking lot. “When that fixation of yours starts actin’ up again or you’re gettin’ nicotine cravings, you to come to me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nod. “I will.” 

“Good girl,” he says. “I’ll get ya taken care of.” 

-

Your craving for a cigarette hits as early as the following night. To test you, Joel had surreptitiously dropped your last pack of cigarettes in your purse last night in his truck. You only noticed a little bit ago, when you were digging through your belongings to find your lip gloss. You could smoke them if you wanted to. You do want to. You could be sneakier about it, go for a walk and smoke somewhere Joel won’t see you. 

You slip on a pair of sneakers and throw a light sweatshirt over your shoulders, then walk out of your room and past your father in the living room. “Where you off to, sweetie?” he asks. 

“Just for a walk,” you answer quickly. To be honest, you weren’t expecting him to be awake. It’s late and the TV’s on, which usually means he’s sleeping. He can’t stay awake through any movie or TV show. 

“Mm,” he hums. “Be safe, honey. Come back soon, I don’t like you out too late all by yourself.” 

You promise your dad you’ll be back soon, then leave out of your front door and make a left. As you walk past your yard, then Joel’s, you realize he’s in his garage, tinkering with something at his workbench. He doesn’t see you, and you could walk on by without him noticing, smoke your secret cigarette and he’d be none the wiser. 

But you’d feel guilty. You feel guilty for even thinking about it. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, contemplating. Maybe Joel’s right, that you need to get yourself into a different kind of trouble. You used to feel thrilled when you’d drink underage or smoke when you shouldn’t have been. But Joel’s cock down your throat, on your knees for your dad’s best friend, a man who’s like a second father to you…Well, nothing compared to that thrill. 

You walk up Joel’s driveway and quietly into his garage, he’s got an old CD player on and he’s listening to Nirvana. “Joel?”

Joel turns to look over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Hey, you.” 

“I…” you struggle to get the words out. Joel nods in understanding, he knows exactly why you’re here. You’re such a good girl for him. Always been a good girl.

Joel pauses his CD player and takes your hand, then leads you inside his house. When you’ve finished sucking his cock, he tells you he’s glad you came to him and that he’s very proud of you. On your way home, you throw that pack of Marlboros away. And for once, you really are done. 

You suck his cock the next week at work, when you’re watching Tommy take a smoke break through the window next to your desk. You’re on the phone with one of Joel’s clients who’s been giving both you and him trouble all week, and you’re reaching the end of your rope with this guy. He’s old, impatient, and speaks so rudely to you. After you’ve argued with him in circles for about twenty minutes, he interrupts you and demands that you put him on the phone with a man. You’re livid. “Absolutely, sir. Let me place you on a brief hold and I’ll transfer you to my boss,” you tell him as sweetly. You press a few buttons on the phone and slam it on your desk, then march into Joel’s office, slamming the door and then locking it. 

Joel’s eyes light up. He rolls back in his chair and reaches behind himself to twist the blinds shut, then unzips his pants as you drop to your knees .

The routine happens day to day, week to week. Joel notices that there are days when you suck his cock aggressively, like you’re angry or you’re restless and antsy. But after a few weeks, they don’t quite feel that way anymore. You focus on his pleasure, and not your need to curb an addiction. It felt satisfying to have Joel’s cock down your throat before, and that certainly helped to satisfy your particular fixation. You’re more satisfied now at the notion of bringing Joel to absolute ecstasy, memorizing the way his breathing changes when you trace your tongue along his shaft and around his head. You’ve begun kissing up and down his length, gently sucking his balls and kissing his thighs, his tummy. You used to grip his thighs tight, digging your fingers into his flesh, but you hold his hand, now. It’s passion, adoration, maybe even love. You deserve the same pleasure, Joel thinks. 

Your dad’s out of town for a few days, he’s staying overnight in some city a few hours away for some work conference. He had stocked the fridge with different snacks and had tasked Joel with making sure you have something hot and filling each night for dinner, so you’ve spent the past few evenings at Joel’s house. 

 You’re on Joel’s couch, watching old reruns of Will and Grace on TV as Joel does the dishes. When he’s done, he joins you on the couch. When the show pauses for a commercial break, Joel mutes the TV. “Wanna talk to you ‘bout somethin’,” he says. You turn your attention to him. Joel’s hand drops to your thigh, and he scratches your skin lazily. His touch sends a jolt of excitement to your core. “You’ve been real good f’me, you know that, don’t you?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Been a long time since your last cigarette, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reply, “Couple months, I think.” 

“S’what I thought,” he whispers. “An’ it’s why I wanna do somethin’ for ya.” 

“Do what?”

“Well,” Joel begins, inhaling deeply. His hand goes higher with every pass, fingers closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. You’re starting to feel hot. “I think it’s awful unfair ‘a me to be leavin’ you high and dry the way I’ve been. Not very gentlemanly, huh?” 

Joel’s fingers are wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts, gently skating along your thin cotton panties. “Joel,” you whine. 

“I’m gonna make it even,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. Joel drags the tip of his sharp, aquiline nose over the curve of your ear, then gently bites your earlobe, causing you to squirm. He smirks at that. “Gonna taste you.” 

Joel hovers over you, laying your body across his soft couch. He kneels as he hooks his fingers around your shorts and panties and pulls them down and off your legs, tossing them on the floor. 

His warm, big hands slide up your legs until he reaches your knees, “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he says, and you part your thighs for him. He spreads them wider, pushing your knees toward your chest. Your nerves are on fire as he slides your shirt up your chest, exposing your bare body to him. “C’mere,” he mumbles, dipping his head low to kiss all over your torso, up your belly until he reaches the soft flesh of your breasts, nipping at the skin there before he sucks a nipple into his mouth. 

“Joel,” you gasp, your hands reaching for his head, fingers tangling in his thick, graying curls. He smirks against you as he kisses his way across to your other breast, repeating the same actions and kissing, licking down your stomach until he’s hovering over your pussy. Under the soft, warm light in the room, he admires your body. Your chest is rising and falling with shaky, nervous breaths. Your legs spread wide gives Joel the perfect view of your pussy, curls framing the shape of your cunt. Skin darkened and glistening wet, pearly ribbons of arousal delicately decorating your slick folds. He can’t wait any longer, he needs to taste you now. 

Joel quickly pulls his shirt off and unbuckles his belt, then kicks his jeans off where they join the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. He settles on his stomach and pulls your body close to his face, his hot breath fanning over your damp, aching pussy. To tease you, he kisses his way toward your center, inching closer and closer to where you need him most yet not giving all the way in. “Please, Joel,” you whine. 

“Ohh, I know,” he rasps. He kisses the other thigh, then uses his thumbs to spread your soft folds apart for easier access and licks one long, fat stripe up your pussy. “Oh my god, yes,” you gasp. Joel chuckles at your excitement. He traces up and down with his tongue, his nose buried in the hair that covers your mound. You rock your hips into his face and he holds you tight, limiting your movement so that he holds all control. He’s feeling generous, and you’re going to take all that he gives you. 

“Fuck, right there,” you whimper when he licks your clit in circles. His tongue dips lower, circling your tight, wet hole before dipping inside to taste your sweet arousal. Joel hums in pleasure, he loves everything about this - the way you writhe and moan, how your dripping pussy feels against his face. He dips his tongue and swirls it inside of you before replacing it with two of his calloused, weathered fingers, rhythmically curling them inside you so that he’s hitting your g-spot. 

You’re moaning, babbling his name along with some other dirty words as Joel licks you and pumps his fingers, soaking him so intensely he thinks he could drown. He’d be happy to. There’s nothing he loves more than eating you out right now, passionately lapping your cunt like you’re the first meal he’s had in days. Your moans are becoming quicker, more frantic as you reach for his free hand and suck and bite his fingertips - always needing something in your mouth. He knows you’re close. Joel focuses on bringing you to the edge and sending you over, unwaveringly fucking you with his fingers and his tongue as your thighs are trembling and twitching, then squeezing the sides of his head as you come hard for him. “Joel,” you cry loudly. 

“Yeah, s’it. Give it to me, kiddo. That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.” 

Joel works you through your orgasm until the feeling subsides, and then pulls away from you. As you steady your breathing, you close your legs gingerly, hips sore from the position Joel held you in. Joel holds your knee, preventing you from moving any further. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

“You made it even,” you breathe, reaching for his hand and placing yours on top.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. We ain’t square yet,” Joel spreads your legs again, then reaches for his cock. It’s rock-hard, the tip is blushed and swollen as he pumps it with his fist. “You gotta come on my tongue a couple more times than that before we’re even. And-” he grunts, adjusting his position before lowering himself over your body. He wraps your legs around his waist and notches his tip inside of you, “M’only a man. I’m gettin’ mine tonight too.” 

With that, he begins to push himself inside you. That slow, deep slide inside your cunt has him groaning in pleasure, Christ, you’re fucking tight. And so warm, soft, and wet. You squeal a bit as you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside of you, his cock splitting you open. “Shhh…” Joel quiets your moans. “Give it a minute, kiddo, you’ll get used to it.” 

You watch Joel as he slowly pulls out of you about halfway, then inches his way back inside you incrementally, little by little until your face relaxes and you let out that first sigh of pleasure. “Oh, there it is,” Joel coos. “Right there, huh?”

You nod, then wrap your arms around Joel's broad shoulders as he sets a steady pace. It’s slow, but not quite gentle at first, before it builds to something faster and harder. He rolls his hips at the perfect angle to have you squirming and writhing in pleasure, the head of his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, biting softly where his neck and shoulders meet. His skin is so soft, slightly salty under your tongue. 

“Fuck, good girl,” he praises, kissing the side of your head where your hair is slightly damp with sweat. With each of his thrusts, you feel every inch of him. The scruff on his face brushing against you, his weight on your body, his skin on your skin, his pubic bone grinding against you. He fucks you passionately, sometimes quickening his thrusting, sometimes slowing it down, fucking you with longer, slower strokes. You bask in the sensation, entirely consumed in it all, in Joel. “You’re doin’ so good.” 

You rock your hips to match each one of his thrusts, needing more friction against your clit. “M-more, Joel,” you beg. “I wanna come. Please, Joel, make me come again.” 

Still fucking you, Joel spits onto his fingertips and wriggles his hand between your body. He searches for your swollen, sensitive bud and then paints steady circles into it, using the motion of his thrusting to help bring you to the edge once more. “Right there,” you tell him. “Don’t stop, please.” 

“I know, I gotcha,” he says. “Go ‘head and come for me, baby. Come all over my cock.”

You’re right there, right fucking there as he rounds your clit again and again with his fingers. Your reaction is more intense than before; your moans are louder now, pleading, more urgent. Your brows are knit together, mouth wide open when you go quiet - you’re gonna come, and it’s gonna be long and fiery and intense. 

Pure, unadulterated pleasure is all you feel when you finally reach your climax, moans and whimpers falling from your lips like honey until you’re crying Joel’s name, begging him as he fucks you through it. Begging for what, you don’t know. “Joel, Joel, Joel.” 

Your orgasm propels Joel’s own, and he’s growling into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. His come feels so warm inside you, so satisfying. “Oh, fuck me. Jesus, hon,” he groans. “Ohhh, god.” 

His thrusts slow, slow, then stop. He whimpers a little when he pulls out of you, then sits back on the couch. His head resting against the back of it, he turns to you. His eyes travel down your body, where some of his spend drips from your pussy. He pushes it back inside you, finger buried all the way to the knuckle, then pulls you into his side. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. 

You look up at him, “Why?” 

Joel smirks. “ Could use a cigarette,” he answers. “Hits the spot right after sex.”

“Fuck off,” you giggle. “You said we’re done.” 

“We are done,” he affirms. “But our deal’s still in place. Which means…” Joel gently pushes you onto your stomach, then pulls you up by your hips. “We’re goin’ for another round.” 

If you enjoyed, please reblog/send an ask with some nice comments! Your words keep me motivated to write.

[nightlocked-in]

“peeta is bisexual” you guys are losing the vision. peeta isn’t even straight. katniss INVENTED sexuality for him. whatever katniss identifies as, he’s like “yeah, i’ll take that one” no questions asked

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.

And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.

Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.

(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)

[sunsetsandsunshine]

If I may request a Rise fic!! I’m a huge sucker for comfort/cheer up tickles, so could you possibly write a disaster twins fic with Lee Leo and Ler Donnie where Leo’s been having a pretty bad day (because of what is your choice!) and ends up feeling self conscious about himself and stuff, so Donnie decides to cheer up his twin!! Please don’t feel rushed and make sure you’re taking care of yourself ^_^

~ 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜!!! ~

💜💙 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋��: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 💜💙

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙼𝚂𝙺𝙽𝚂𝙽𝙺𝙼𝙳𝙽𝚂𝙹 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄. 𝙶𝙴𝚃. 𝙼𝙴!!! 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝙹𝙰𝙼!!! 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜…𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢..𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎??? 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!!!˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟺,𝟹𝟿𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍…𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝙱𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜:  @shut-up-jo @itzsana-kiddingmenow @aceofspades-doodles @ziipzeepzop-eez

@tmntheadforever123 @rice-cake-teen10 @aninabanina6969

@savemeafruitjuice @cedarrthefluffylee @saturnzskyzz @titters-and-tingles

@someone1348 @my-l0v3r-v3rse @snipersiniora @mistyandsnow

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙰𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚣𝚢…

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙷𝙴𝙴 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me again.” Leo grumbled under his breath as he rested his mouth on his palm, glancing away from his brother as he sighed loudly. 

“Well maybe if you weren’t so fucking reckless I wouldn’t need to.” Donnie growled lowly, glaring down at his twin.

“I’m not a baby, Don. I don’t need to be supervised like I’m some bomb triggered to explode.” The younger said in exasperation, lying down on his bed whilst grabbing a comic book to read off of his desk.

If Leo was going to be told off and scolded by his dear beloved brow-loving brother, he should at least have something to occupy himself with in the meanwhile. 

The softshell groaned eternally at his little brother’s action, quickly snatching the piece of literature out of the other’s hands and throwing it effortlessly to the ground. 

Uninterested lime green eyes locked with a determined yet fierce light golden, both of them refusing to look away or blink to show their dominance.

But after a while, the red eared slider grew more impatient, looking away again as he picked a hangnail on his thumb, “If you’re going to yell at me, can you just get it over with? I saw a reddit post predicting what’s going to happen in The Umbrella Academy season four and I need to read it.” 

“You can read that later, Nardo. I promise you, that reddit post isn’t going to fly away.” The elder said as he pinched the bridge of his snout, “What I need you to do right now is acknowledge what you did today was stupid, alright?” 

Leo looked away from his older brother, scoffing lightly, “I do stupid things all the time. What stupid action of mine are you wanting to scream at me for this time?” 

The softshell turtle took a couple deep breaths at that comment, drumming his fingers on his left arm in a soothing motion because he was NOT going to give into the urge of strangling his twin brother…

…No matter how much he deserved it.

“I’m not planning on screaming at you— that won’t help anyone or anything.” The purple banded turtle explained calmly…but you could see and tell he was starting to lose his paitence. 

“But you want to.” The red eared slider pressed on. 

“Leo…please. I don’t want to argue right now.” 

“We’re not arguing. We’re just kindly discussing my oh-so stupid descision that unfolded earlier today, right?” The younger twin smirked smugly, his eyes locking once again with his brother. 

When it came to arguments, the leader in blue always had this wonderful tactic to avoiding things: attempting to annoy the other person so much that they drop the subject they wanted to discuss with him completely.

It always worked with Raph…which the red eared slider didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But the only downside of doing this tactic was his dumb twin saw right through it…

…And Leonardo despised it. 

“Nardo…you know what I’m referring to. And stop picking, please. Your going to hurt yourself.” The older attempted to say in a tranquil voice, but it personally just sounded like he was one second away from losing. his. shell.

“I sadly do not know what your referring to.” The blue cladded teen said coyly, picking on his hangnail more desperately now, “Care to enlighten me, Tello?” 

Donnie’s expression hardened ever so slightly at his younger brother’s absolute persistence on annoying him out of his right mind so he could eventually drop the subject…but the softshell turtle was not budging.

His twin would have to try way harder than that.

“I’d love to.” The light golden eyed mutant said in a fake sweet tone as he walked over to lean his shell on Leo’s closed door, crossing his arms in disaproval. The elder grabbed his brother’s sword, planting it right next to his foot so the blue banded turtle couldn’t reach for it. 

The red eared slider’s cocky grin turned to a small grimace (shake) as he soon came to terms with what his older brother was doing…

…He physically could not leave from this conversation…literally.

Leonardo crossed his arms, trying to mimick the other’s serious demeanor but was only met with an icy glare in return. 

“What you did during today’s mission was completley reckless and idiotic, Leonardo…and you know it.” The second oldest said, “I had that thug exactly where I wanted him but noooooo. Because you saw me trip you thought it would be a spectacular idea to throw yourself on top of me as that hooligan tried to hit me with his bat!!” Donatello seethed. 

“We’ve been over this multiple times, Leo! There was no reason for you to do that!” The light golden eyed teen yelled, his glare only hardening more as he saw the younger stuttering over his words to try to defend himself.

“I’m not done.” The taller teen growled, all of his calmness and collectiveness thrown completley out of the window.

The slider slightly flinched (which went un-noticed by the other) at his brother’s genuine angry tone, his left leg fidgeting and bouncing up and down like crazy. 

His tactic was really starting to not work in his favour at all…

“Just…stop putting yourself in the middle of danger like you’re just expecting the rest of us to just watch. We’re your family…and most importantly, we can defend ourselves just fine.” 

“Well ihisn’t that hypocritic!” Leonardo scoffed before creasing his eye ridges together in genuine confusion, mumbling to himself, “Hyp…uh…hypocrotic? Hyp…Hypocratic…?” 

“Hypocritical?” The older deadpanned.

“YES! THAT WORD!” Leo said, “When we were fighting Kraang Prime on the ship and he went to take a blow at Mikey…what did you do?”

Donatello scowled, his eyes not leaving his twin, “…I went in front of him and shielded him with my mystic tech.”

“Exactly.” The lime green eyed mutant scoffed, “And how is that any different from what I did, hm?”

“BECAUSE I HAD A PLAN!!!” Donatello shouted, “I planned to accordingly go in front of Mikey so my sheild could protect both him and me. Did it end up turning out perfect? Fuck no. Kraang Prime slashed right through it and me and Mikey went tumbling towards the ground…” The glasses wielding teen said through clenched teeth. 

The light golden eyed teen rubbed his face tiredly, his hands clenching and unclenching in frustration, “But I had a plan. You on the other hand, just zoomed recklessly on top of me and hoped for the best.”

“…I saved you, didn’t I…?” The younger twin mumbled out meekly, causing Donatello’s blood to absolutley boil. 

“That’s not the point!!!” The elder said as he clenched his hands at his sides again.

“Then what is?!” Leo said desperately, “Because from the looks of it, it just seems like you want to yell at me for just doing my job.” 

Leonardo pulled on his mask tails anxiously, trying to calm himself down but ultimately just making himself feel worse by doing the action, “I’ve been trying to be a better leader—“

“Leo—“

“—For you and Mikey and April and Raph and Casey and C.J. a-and Dad! But it seems like no matter what the hell I do there’s always something I’m doing WRONG!!!” The younger twin shouted, blinking back tears as he glared at the ground as if it took his Jupiter Jim comic.

Which…it did. The blue banded mutant wanted it back now, actually…

“I saved you! I-I didn’t even get hurt by doing it but somehow there’s an issue…” The lime green eyed teen murmured, both of his legs bouncing up and down as he tugged on his mask tails harder, “There always is…”

“Leonardo can you please just listen to me?” The older twin said in irritation. 

“But Don I’m—“

“No, Leo! Just listen! That’s all you need to do!” Donnie snapped as he cut his brother off, “I don’t want you leaping head first into harms way! At all! Especially if you don’t have a plan!” The softshell turtle exclaimed as he flapped his hands against the side of his thighs, but his eye contanct remaining on his little brother.

“Oho so now you don’t trust me well enough to know that I can handle myself in combat?” Leo said in a last desperate attempt to make his brother drop the conversation.

“I…” The young scientist’s eye twitched, his eyebrows creasing together as he had to physically restrain himself to not beat the ever living crap out of the other teen, “THIS IS NOT ABOUT TRUST, NARDO!” The light golden eyed mutant screamed desperately, his hands flapping faster as the red eared slider shrunk at his usage of tone, “This is about you not even thinking about what would happen to yourself when you do reckless nonsense like this.”

Leo glanced to the side, his eyes watering as he bit the inside of his cheek.

He just wanted to help and be the leader his brother’s deserved…

But he always found a way to fuck it up without even noticing, huh?

"You don't think about what could happen to you and I hate it!” The elder cried, “What would’ve happened if Raph didn’t come behind the guy and knocked him out cold at the last second, huh?! Would you have just stayed right on me as he continued to beat you with his bat?!”

Leonardo bit the inside of his cheek harder, his legs bouncing up and down more as his fingernails dug unforgivingly into his arms, “I-I’m sorry, Donnie—”

“Or would you have tried to fight him instead?! Mind you, you dropped your sword before coming to me so you’d have no weapon to defend yourself.” 

“You don't think about how much it scares me when you do dumb shit like that! I hate seeing you get hurt…I freaking loathe it.” Donnie rested the back of his head on Leo’s door, taking a couple deep breaths and hugging himself in an attempt to calm himself down.

Jeez…when the hell had he started yelling? His throat stung like a bitch now…

And when had he started shaking like a bobby head?!

The older twin’s expression softened, pinching the bridge of his snout once more, “I care about you…so fucking much, okay…?” The purple banded turtle said gently as he gradually started to simmer down and become more calm, “Your my twin…my little brother. And I hate to be repetitive but I-I just despise seeing you hurt…physically or emotionally…so please just…”

The young scientist’s eyes widened, peering down at his brother who did not seem to be following…at all. 

Leo’s eyes were wide as saucers as he hit his arm with his fist repeatedly whilst obviously trying to suck in whatever tears dared to try and escape. 

The taller turtle basically ran to his distressed twin, trying to stop him from harming himself any further but was only met with a low grunt.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Fucking shit. 

Wonderful job, Donatello! You yelled at your brother so much he shut down!

Even though you knew he can’t fucking stand being yelled at and the whole point of you even being here was to explain what he did wrong collectively and calmly because that was the exact oppositeof what Raph does when he’s worried…

But no! You yelled at him anyway.

Wonderful job, Donatello…wonderful. job. 

The older twin sighed sadly, gently grabbing his brother’s wrists so he would stop hitting himself. The two brother’s shared eye contact once again, an unsure lime green meeting an understanding yet uncertain light golden.

“Nardo…” The softshell started, squeezing the other’s hands gently, “…Are you with me, bud…?”

Leo just nodded quietly, squeezing back. 

“God…Nardo I’m so sorry…” The older muttered, “I don’t…I don’t know why the hell I lost my cool like that. I-I’m sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t of yelled…I-I just…” Donatello sighed, squeezing his brother’s hands once again. “I’m not angry with you. I…I was just frustrated.”

“Well, no…let me rephrase: I am angry with you— livid even. You know damn well enough that when you do those kinds of things my heart literally jumps out of my shell. I need you to put into consideration that I would like to live to at least seventy-seven…”

The younger twin giggled wetly, fidgeting with his brother’s fingers as he spoke, “…Why seventy-seven?”

“Albert Einstein died when he was seventy-six…I can and will outlive him.” The light golden eyed teen said matter-of-factly, “But back to what I was initially saying…I know you meant well. You saw that I was in trouble…and you dropped literally everything in order to help me get out of said trouble. You don’t think of what happens to you…you just do it because you’ll know if you do we’ll be alright…”

“I-I just…I just wanted to protect you…I-I just wanted to help…” Leo tried to explain.

“I know. I know, Lee…” Donatello sighed, rubbing the slider’s knuckles gently with his thumb, “But you need to understand that with you trying to protect us that way, your putting us in the same situation your trying to keep us away from.” The elder explained lightly, smiling softly as him and his twin’s forehead’s touched. 

“You’re getting hurt— or at the very least almost getting hurt. We’re feeling the same anguish and guilt you would feel if any of us did that. I get that you want to be a good leader and shit…but you can lead well without doing that…okay?” 

Leo fiddled with the other’s fingers a bit more, his bouncing leg starting to calm a bit, “I’ll…try to be more careful when it comes to me protecting you guys like that. When I see you all in trouble…I just…react. I don’t really care about what happens to me as long as you guys end up okay. But…I’ll try to be more careful. And if I ever end up, like, being a bit too reckless…you can just tell me…deal?”

“Deal.” Donnie nodded, squeezing Leo’s hands one last time before letting go, wiping his twin’s eyes with his hoodie sleeve, “Now please stop crying or you’re going to make me start crying.” 

Leo snorted, examining the other’s now tearing up expression, “I think it’s a bit too late for that…” 

“GAH! FUHUCK!” Donnie cursed, wiping his own eyes as the slider laughed loudly at his exclamation.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Leo…don’t you think you’re getting a bit too big for this…?” Donatello grumbled as Leonardo was on his lap, getting all nice and comfy as he rested his chin on the older’s shoulder. “Noooope.” Leo drawed out, making a dramatic popping noise at the end of the 'p', “'Sides, this is what you get for making me emo earlier.”

“…I said I was sorry…I didn’t mean to shout at you like that. I was just concerned…” 

“I know that, you worrywart. I was just kidding.” The lime green eyed teen said lovingly, squishing his brother into a tighter embrace. The older let out a short shriek at the hug but of course didn’t mind the other being so clingy. 

If the young scientist really and truly did mind? Leo would’ve been pushed to the floor by now. 

The two twins shared a comfortable silence…well…a semi-comfortable silence.

The purple banded teen felt…off. His younger brother had this…look in his eyes; like he wanted to say something but was afraid of what Donnie would say or how Donnie would react.

Which was so damn dumb Donatello didn’t even know how to explain it.

“…There’s something else on your mind.” The taller turtle hummed, his suspicions only rising as the other glanced to the side. “Uhm…no there isn’t. See? This is why I call you a worrywart.” Leonardo said, tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously. 

Very convincing Leo…very convincing.

“Don’t even try lying to me, Leon. My older brother and twin senses are tingling. You can’t argue against that kind of logic.” The scientist said matter-of-factly. 

“What are you, Spiderman?” The younger snorted. 

“We shall never know.” The older shrugged, a small smile spreading to his face as he saw the other snort softly at his statement, “Now stop deflecting. Spill.” 

“…Can you…adjust my elbow braces…?” The red eared slider muttered.

“…Why can’t you do it?” The other questioned. Not in a malicious way; he was just genuinely curious. 

“I like it when you do it. You make it more firm, y'know?” The blue banded turtle whined dramatically, “Pleeeeeease?”

“Ugh, Jesus— fine. But drop the pout…you look ridiculous.” The taller mutant sighed, lightly grabbing his brother’s arm as he readjusted the braces. 

The purple banded turtle meticulously took off the other’s left arm brace, tracing his twin’s elbow to make sure it was healing correctly— which the slider couldn’t help but wriggle slightly to.

As the older twin put the brace back on, he looked at the other turtle in complete worry, “…Why are you squirming around so much?” Donatello asked in confusion. 

“…No reason.” Leonardo stated, but let out a tiny squeak as Donnie lightly pinched his forearm. 

“Yohou okay…?” The glasses wielding mutant giggled.   

“I-I’m fihine!” The smaller turtle insisted, covering his mouth as he let out a loud shriek in result to his brother now lightly scribbling his forearm. “EEEEE! P-Plehease moohoove yohour hahahand!!” The younger sputtered out, hiding his face in the crook of the scientist’s neck which the older turtle couldn’t help but let his heart melt to.

“Oh.” Donatello hummed, biting back an amused laugh, “Sorry. Sometimes I forget how ticklish you are…”

“Snrt I-Ihihi’m nahat ticklish. I juhust don’t wahant your hand thehere…” 

And isn’t that quaint. 

If Donnie had a penny for every time Leo said he 'wasn’t ticklish', the softshell would be richer than Elon Musk.

“…Right. So…you wouldn’t mind me doing this then?” The young genius mused as he scribbled one hand over his twin’s ribs. “EEEEHEH! Duhuhude noHOH!! F-Fuhuck yohou!” The younger twin managed through his small giggles, pushing on his brother’s plastron to try and escape while he still could.

The elder laughed fondly at his little brother’s futile actions, hugging him closer as he lightly tickled him, “Nahardo! My brohohother in Christ gehet back here or you’re gohoing to fahall off of the bed!

“N-NOHO!! LEHET ME GO!” The lime green eyed teen screeched loudly, kicking his legs and pushing even harder on the other’s plastron, his eye’s widening in panic as his older brother casually lifted him up and pinned his arms above his head, his plastron now facing up on the bed.

Eugh boy…

Donnie grinned, sitting on the other’s thighs as he wiggled his unoccupied fingers in the air near the slider’s side, “That’s better~!”

“WAHAIT WAHAHAIT snrt PLEHEASE DEEHEE!!” The red eared slider cried, kicking his legs from underneath the scientist.

If he was going to go down…he would at least go down fighting. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet, you goof…” The older twin chuckled. 

“B-BUHUT YOHOUR GOHOHONNA!” 

“'Gonna' what, exactly?”

“TihiHICKLE ME!!” 

“Tickle you? Well, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?” Donatello snickered, using his free hand to skitter his fingers along the crook’s of the younger’s neck. 

The blue banded turtle squealed, shaking his head back in forth whilst scrunching his shoulders, “GAHaha— snrt EEEEHEEHEH oho cohome snrt OHAHAN!!” 

“What’s wrong, Leo? I thought you said you weren’t ticklish~?” The older teased.

“Snrt STHDHAHAH! Shuhut UP! IHI’M naHAT!” The younger shouted, tugging and pulling his arms to try and get his hand’s free from the other’s grasp. Donnie just laughed softly at the action, wiggling his fingers above his little brother’s stomach. 

The lime green eyed teen’s eyes widened in panic, thrashing in the hold to try and loosen his brother’s grip but the purple banded turtle did not budge even a smidge. 

Leo’s laughs became more giddy and loud as he continued to squirm, small squeals and snorts escaping his beak as his twin brother’s hand went sloooooowly to his stomach. 

“N-NOHO NONONONO DAHA— snrt DOHON!!” The smaller turtle snorted, hiding his face in the side of his arm which Donnie couldn’t help but giggle to. 

The light golden eyed mutant rested his hand on the slider’s plastron, making the younger turtle’s laugh raise almost a thousand octaves. 

“DOHON’T snrt DOHON’T DOHOHON’T snrt YOU DARE!! YOHOUR SOHO MEEHEEHEEAN!!” Leonardo whined, hiding deeper into his arm and becoming a giggly flustered mess.

The older twin shook his head fondly at his little brother’s embarrassed state, taking the opportunity to tickle the younger’s stomach while he wasn’t looking. 

Leo let out a loud scream, descending into high-pitched cackles as even louder snorts followed, “HAHAHAHELP!! IHI’M SNRT BEEHEEING SLAHAHAUTERED!!” 

“I’m quite literally only using one hand, Nardo. Stop being dramatic.” The light golden eyed teen mused whilst watching his brother snort and squirm, “And here I thought I was the dancer of the family. Look at you! You’re making up a whole dance routine right now!” He said as he let go of Leo, crossing his arms in amusement. 

“S-Shuhuhut snrt up…” The younger twin wheezed out, hugging his middles as he playfully glared at his purple loving brother. 

Then, a lightbulb went on in the scientist’s brain, a smug smile spreading to his face, “Hm…you know, Lee—”

“Dohont call snrt me thahat!” Leo giggly interupted. 

“Uh-huh. Well, Lee…did you know that the underarms are one of the warmest places on the human body?” The scientist said. 

The lime green eyed mutant cocked his head to the side in confusion, “Soho?” 

“Soooo my hands are cold. Very cold, in fact. I’d be forever in your debt if you could—”

“NO! NONOHO WAHAY IN HEHELL! G-GOHO AWAHAHAY!” Leo squealed, reaching for his brother’s wrists as the elder tried to tickle his neck once again.

Sigh…Leonardo made this too damn easy sometimes.

The glasses wielding teen wasn’t just going to miss this oh-so-definetly-not-planned opportunity! The softshell scribbled his fingers along the slider’s underarms, making the younger let out a loud squawk as he shot his arms down. 

“NAHAH AHAHAHA— snrt GEHET THEHE HEHELL OHAHA— snrt OHOHOUT!!” Leonardo cried while banging his heels on the bed. 

“What~?” Donnie hummed inocently. 

“GEHEHET AHA— snrt GEHET. OHOUT. OHOF THEHEHERE!”

“Awe…why~?”

“BEEHEECAUSE IHIT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!!!” 

“And?” Donnie chuckled, “That sounds like a you problem, little brother.” 

“AHHHAHA— snrt GAHAHAD FUHUCK YOHOU!!!”

“Pardon…what was that?” Donnie questioned as he pinched where Leo’s hip met his thigh. “N-NONO— snrt NAHAHAH!! I CAN’T— snrt PLEHEHEASE I’M snrt SORRY!! I-IHI TAHAHAKE IHIT BAHAHCK!!” 

“Nah…I think I’ll just stay riiiiight here for a bit…” The taller turtle smiled, using both of his hands now to tickle Leo into a laughing and snorting blob.

The younger weakly hit his big brother’s arms, throwing his head back as he squeezed his eyes completely shut. 

“…And you know what, Lee~?” 

“WHAHAHAT NOW?!” 

“I’m feeling…kind of famished.” The elder mused, his smile almost looking like the signature Joker’s as he saw his younger brother’s face pale. 

Leonardo scrambled to sit up, fighting with his brother’s arms as he giggly protested, “PLAHA— snrt PLAHAHEASE! PLEHEASE snrt D-DOHON’T!!” 

Donnie pinched his brother’s thighs unforgivingly, “You should have thought about that before yapping such ill nonsense about yourself.”

“WHAHA— snrt WHAHAHA— snrt WHAHAT DIHID snrt IHIHI snrt EVEN SAHAHAY?!” The lime green eyed turtle cackled, flapping his hands on the mattress. 

It took literally everything in the older twin not to coo his baby brother’s adorable actions; instead, he lightly moved Leo’s hands away, smiling evily as he lowered his head to the other’s plastron, “You don’t even know. Guess you really want this, huh~?” 

The blue banded teen kicked his knees into his brother’s shoulders and shell, throwing his head back in complete hysterics whilst waiting for him complete and utter demise. 

The softshell wasted no time blowing raspberries after raspberries in the middle of his younger’s stomach, making sure to move the other’s hands away any time he tried to push at the young genius’ head. 

Donnie didn’t feel like getting brain damage after all.

Plus, he had his signature glasses ᴅᴏɴᴀᴛᴇʟʟᴏ ᴛᴍ on! And those were trademarked…as you can wonderfully see. 

“God…can you get more ticklish?” Donatello giggled, squeezing and squishing the red eared slider’s knees with one hand and scribbling his sides with the other whilst contuinung to raspberry Leo’s stomach. 

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE SNRT PLEHEHEASE!!! IHI SNRT DAHAHAH— SNRT DAHA— SNRT DAHUNNO!!” The smaller turtle screamed, happy stimming with his arms on the taller twin’s shoulder.

Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle, deciding to show his twin a tad bit of mercy as he nibbled his stomach lightly. 

The slider let out bloody murder from his beak, happy tears threatening to fall from his eyes as his bubbly cackles and snorts bounced off the walls of his room.

“Jeez…I think Peppa Pig has some competition, huh~?” The light golden eyed mutant snickered.

“PLEHEHEASE!! TEHEHELLO SNRT IHI’M GOH— SNRT GOHOHA— AHAHA SNRT MYHYHY SNRTGAHAHAHAD!!!” The smaller teen pleaded.

“Do you promise to stop putting yourself in between danger and your family?” The older hummed. 

“YEHEHES!!” The younger cried loudly.

“Do you promise to go easier on yourself?” 

“YAHA— SNRT YAHA— SNRT YEHEHES!!!”

“Do you promise to accept your doing an amazing job as leader and we all love you—”

“MY SNRT FUHUHUCKING SNRT GAHAHAD!!! IHIHI SNRT GEHET IT!!” Leonardo shouted, his blush now completley blending into the red stripes on his face. 

The softshell turtle got off of the other, sitting next to his little brother as his little brother in question hugged his middles and giggled tiredly. 

“Y-Yohou could ohof juhuhust sahaid ahall of thahat wihihithout tickling meeheee…” The younger grumbled despite the evident smile on his face.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Donnie smiled back, his expression softening as Leo got up and leaned against him softly. The older wraped an arm around the younger’s shoulder, pulling him closer into a warm, protective gesture. 

“Ahand would yohohou look ahat that! Ihi got yohour emo bahad boy ahahass to smile todahay. Your eheeven hugging me~!” The blue banded leader spoke softly, his voice filled with affection as he poked his twin’s forehead cheekily. 

“You tell anyone that and I will not hesitate to deny that extremely untrue statement.” The scientist huffed, rolling his eyes fondly as his smile spread.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[dykedvonte]

Ulysses obsession with the Courier is a special type of sad to me cause the Courier’s part was so important but so unwitting. They had no idea what was in the package they delivered and neither did he. Neither had an idea of what it could’ve done and the Courier was only caring out their job (mind you the Courier could be killed via notes in the express contract if they don’t). To them it was just another regular delivery to the divide and one that they likely thought would help, just like all the ones before.

It’s so tragic for Ulysses to hold so much ire to the Courier when it really was the case of it could’ve been anyone. Anyone could have delivered that package but they did and so he focused the blame on them and it destroys what he is trying to instill in the courier on a fundamental level.

[warlenys]

the glenn macdennis comment hurt obviously but also so necessarily cause i’d gotten too delusional i was too obsessed with the potential final prize instead of fully enjoying what i love about what macden is rn which is the saddest awfulest gay tragedy ever written this is such a good catalyst for lowering my expectations and just living laughing loving in the doomed queerbait this is what shipping’s about what fandom’s about what life is about let us rest peacefully knowing that we absolutely will still get shit and it’ll be crazy and funny and sad but ultimately the power to make it beautiful lies with us. as the queerbait gods intended

[the-meme-monarch]

about to start season 2 of gravity falls and hey are we done with Mabel Has To So Much As Tolerate A Guy Who Wants To Date her That She’s Not Fucking Interested In plots

[heyclickadee]

Okay but for all we know Saw and his buddies picked Tech up (alive) on Eriadu.

[tempestmothstorm]

Ok since Monika still has her admin powers in the side stories you think she could just discover them accidentally or use them without realizing

Anyways au where Monika and friends discover her admin powers but dont know about the wider context of what it means. So they just go around thinking Monika has magic and try practicing with a bunch of silly fun shenanigans because they figure it’s some chosen one bloodline stuff and not like. A product of their reality being a constricted digital science experiment.

This au will not end well

[forlix]

i don’t know what the fuck to think or feel. heart feeling so heavy

[monsterfuckermilligan]

i have a theory that the baby!jack fanaticism in the fandom partly comes from the fact that on june 26th, 2017 (less than two months after jack was introduced as a character) the us supreme court ruled that queer couples were allowed to adopt in all 50 states. so naturally, as kelly died giving birth to jack, dean was in the midst of his widower arc, and the fandom thought that jack was going to be a baby, we had a wave of romanticization of infant adoption for destiel.

[kacievvbbbb]

I know, especially with how much more proactive he is in the live action, some people think that Iroh was too complicit with Zuko and should have put more effort into pushing Zuko down the right path.

But I don’t know I think the point was that it had to come from Zuko. This great change had to be something that Zuko wanted for himself and not something Iroh pushes him into. It’s why although he tries to distract or dissuade him subtly he’s pretty content to let Zuko do as he feels the need to (except when he’s taking insane actions that would have killed him if he wasn’t too spiteful to die) but yeah there’s no obvious push to get Zuko to believe this or that or even to undo the fire nation conditioning he simply just worries for his safety and honestly with how reckless zuko was probably the safest route without pushing him into full mental breakdown.

It’s not till he’s almost captured and they go on the run do you actually start to see that maybe Iroh has a side in all this and it’s not the fire nation. But even then being on Zuko’s side takes precedent. It’s not until Zuko is on the cusp of real change, he’s right on the precipice does Iroh start to push a little harder but even then it’s focused in Zuko making a decision for his life one that nobody else can make for him. The closest Iroh gets to forcefully pushing Zuko towards any direction is him yelling “It's time for you to look *inward* and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you and what do *you* want?”. And then siding with the avatar during the fall of ba sing se.

If Iroh tried to manipulate him, take advantage of this scared angry child to unconsciously steer him towards his own side then he’d be no better than the fire nation, he’s just be another person wrenching control from Zuko life. But instead Iroh offers him that control, let him go out and see what the world is and let the conclusions of whatever he finds be the foundation on which he is rebuilt again and and again. It’s why when he stands infront of Ozai and says “ No, I’ve learned everything! And I’ve had to learn it on my own” we feel that shit. Because yeah he did he struggled and he fought and he learned and damn it all, he is making a choice for himself.

The story works because Iroh isn’t his mentor, he’s his uncle and he loves him enough to push aside his own personal belief to allow Zuko the space to decide who he wants to be, to give him the agency over his own life. That’s why Zuko’s redemption works so well because he’s not forced into it, If he decides to join the avatar to take down the thrown that has been his choice. If he decides to stay with the fire nation be the prince he was born to be….well that had to be his choice as well. Because that’s the crux of this. None of it matters if it isn’t Zuko, with everything that he has learned, making a decision for his own life.

[buggoblin]

I feel like I’ve just been divinely blessed with a great gravity falls fanfic idea but I’m not really a writer nor do I have tons of time but I think I’m going to at least write my idea down so I can have fun imagining it

[legendoftherisingtide]

autistic becoming a neutral/positive adjective in todays culture would make my younger neurodivergent self so happy and hopeful (and i hope others can find that too:))

[itspileofgoodthings]

I think it’s such a lovely thought that the stuff you’re going through now is preparing you for the things you want.

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.