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#i feel like i'm not creating as much as i want to but at least it's been a pretty productive year somehow!!! :'))
nottsangel · 3 days
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Imagine going to the Great hall and you're wearing this really pretty skirt that ends at your mid thighs and Theo loves seeing you in that skirt. So when you sit down next to him, he starts running his hands across your soft thighs and he whispers to you about how pretty you look and how he could just fuck you right there and you nearly choke on your food and he goes like "You would look so much better choking on my dick." Then he decides that he can't stop himself anymore so he pulls you onto his lap and buries his face into your neck so to your friends it looks like he's just being soft and sweet but he's actually pushing his dick into your pussy and telling you to be quiet because you don't want everyone in the great hall to know you're such a naughty girl, do you? And you're just sitting there on top of him, cheeks flushed red trying so very hard not to make a sound because he just fills you up so good and it's making you crave for more but you're also feeling so embarrassed because there are so many people around. And Theo's just whispering the most dirty things into your ear.
Then his hand goes down to your thighs again because he's absolutely addicted to them and he can't help but squish them between his fingers. And i'm screaming because, my god, i need this man so bad.
ARRGGHHHHHHHHHHSHSJSSJ…. !!!?!€€/&:&::
ok i’ve calmed down. god. and the more embarrassment you become, the cockier he gets, gazing down at you with a smug smirk as you look up at him with those desperate, helpless eyes. you feel so full with his thick cock buried deep inside of you, yet you crave more, subtly wiggling to create at least some friction. he instantly notices, so with a teasing grin, his hand sneakily slides down to where your bodies meet, thumb lazily rubbing circles on your aching clit, causing you to inhale sharply, nearly choking on your own saliva. he’d raise a brow in mock surprise before leaning in, feeling his lips brush against your ear as he whispers to you, his voice low and husky “what’s wrong, amore? you look so tense, my poor girl. just let me help you relax, hm?” he’d tease, knowing damn well he’s only making it harder for you as your wetness drips down your bare thighs onto his pants and you’re desperately biting down on his shoulder to keep quiet. :/
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thaatdigitaldiary · 7 hours
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for the first time
hopkins paige bueckers x hopkins fem reader
for a long time, paige didn’t know why she felt the way she did about her best friend, someone who she “wasn’t” supposed to love, she didn’t want to ruin things. it was unfortunate she didn’t know you were waiting for her first. (kinda got this idea while listening to bags by clairo so i hope this makes your heart tingle and your eyes water!)
fluff and flirtationnnn (ofc🙏🏽), slight angst & minor argument, internal homophobia, cuteness and clarity at the end | this is lengthy! i hope ya like
enjoy!🙂‍↕️
disclaimer: i write nothing but angst or fluff when it comes to hopkins p, considering she was in highschool. thank you! - im considering this a “throwback story” so i can make a part two for older reader and older paige. 🫶🏽
paige and you were completely different when it came to high school. her priorities consisted of basketball, her future career, and passing senior year so she can make way to uconn. you however, were all about academics. you were in basically any club available, maintained a 4.0 gpa, and quickly climbed the rank of class president. how you two met was random, your sophomore year you were in photography club, meaning you took pictures of all the sports teams for the yearbook, and she stayed behind to talk to you.
"cool ass camera." she said going to touch it, but you quickly swat her hand away.
"hey! no touching. you break you buy." you say slightly stern, pointing your finger at her.
"technically YOU'D have to buy, this has nothing to do with me." she says laughing and shrugging her shoulders, getting a smile out of you. for her first time seeing you smile, she sure was in love with it.
"okay "miss photographer", what's your name?" she asks you, hoping she can get to know you. "mine's paige."
"i know, i see you all the time, you're like.. the best basketball player here." you say bragging on her, feeling kind of shy when you give away that you're a big fan of her.
"oh really, you think so?" she says in a flirty tone while she flexes, making you blush out of nervousness.
"okay, okay, don't get too in your head now, but yeah, you're really good. i'm the one who records and snaps all your shots. but my name is y/n, since you asked." you say with such a sweet voice, something that sent her in a trance, completely dazed in the sound of you speaking.
"cute name. hey uh, i was gonna ask did you need any help packing this stuff up, i won't break it i promise." paige says chuckling, her smile pure and full of life, an image that stayed in your head since you met her.
two years pass, and you and paige can never separate. despite being utter opposites of each other, you're glued to the hip. you still did photography, getting the best candid photos of your best friend on the court, excited to post them on social media so she gets the attention she deserves. you gathered the pictures together and created a collage to post on instagram.
you were paige's biggest fan to say the least, buying a hoodie with her name and number on it, and being able to sit on the sidelines and watch her play, with your photographer privilege of course. anytime she made a three, she'd point at you, making you smile. watching her play was something you couldn't get enough of, learning the game so you could understand when she was frustrated with a play, or if she just rambled on to you about it, you'd know exactly what she was talking about.
paige and your bond grew stronger, going to family events together, having sleepovers every weekend, even during the week, as well as going on family trips with her. you felt like you had your person when it came down to paige. you didn't really know much about anyone at your school, and you definitely didn't expect the school's star basketball player to befriend you.
life wasn't always so peachy though. you really struggled finding yourself. for a long time you were confused, not when it came to school, when it came down to your feelings. ever since you met paige, there was this feeling you couldn't shake, this feeling of nurture and love that you gained from her, the type no one else could give you. growing up, you weren't one to express your feelings to your parents. they were always busy, super strict, and for some reason never found too much time for you. but paige, she always dropped anything even if meant seeing you for 5 minutes.
the first time paige saw you, she noticed how you radiated positive energy, even though she had no clue what you were going through at home. all she wanted was to be the person by your side through thick and thin, forever and always.
with about a month and a half of school left, paige and her teammates took home the trophy for the final game of the season, and you were more than proud for her, ecstatic even. when the final buzzer went off for the end of the game, paige made a 3 pointer, beating the buzzer. you stood up and cheered as loud as you could, while paige ran towards you and swiftly lifted you up into a hug, making your feet dangle in the air.
"i'm so proud of you p." you said, muffled into her shoulder, as you feel her start to tear up from her words, and one of her biggest achievements.
"i really couldn't have done it without you, you're my motivation y/n." you feel a catch in your throat, signaling you're about to cry, and she quickly wipes your tears.
her family takes you both out to eat, and you had a duffel bag in their trunk that you packed the night before, so you could stay over at paige's house tonight.
after eating and making it to paige's place, you and paige made it up to her room, where she dropped her bags and your duffel that she insisted on carrying so you didn't "hurt your pretty hands" as she'd say. her room has evolved so much over the years, furniture moved around, basketball posters growing on the walls every visit, but one thing that never changed, was the framed picture of you and her on your nightstand, you on her back after her first win, both of your smiles bright and lively. the same picture lingered on her lockscreen ever since you two took it, your lockscreen being a picture you and her took at a sleepover at your house, you two under a fuzzy olive green blanket, exceptionally close for "best friends", but you never really cared.
that's another thing when it came down to paige, you never really cared. sure, questions and rumors spread, "are y/n and paige together?" "is paige gay?" "what's y/n's sexuality?"
it got annoying after a while, and paige and you always seemed to avoid the questions, and simply ignore them. it sucked that you wondered the same thing though. that was a sensitive topic, you couldn't ask paige about that, what if she finds you weird and stops talking to you?
you though, you should've been asking yourself that question. you've dated one guy throughout high school, and sure you liked him, (so you thought), but he was rude and belittling. after a conversation with paige, you immediately broke up with him. "he's not good enough for you," she said to you, always knowing what was best.
the real question was, what really was good enough for me?
paige never dated anyone in highschool, she turned down girls AND guys, so it made it extra hard to read her, even though you knew her like a book, cover page to the summary on the back of it. you wanted to know, but you didn't want to lose her in the midst of your curiosity.
sitting on paige's bed, you took your shoes off and got comfortable like you usually do, and she took off her practice gear and sat next to you.
"thank you for always being here for me y/n, like seriously." she sounds so genuine and would do anything to keep you here forever.
"p, i'm always gonna be here for you, you're my best friend." you go to embrace her, her muscular arms holding you close, your perfume lingering in her nose, making her feel at home.
you and her let go and look at each other for a while, eye contact never breaking, when she leans in for a kiss, and you let her in. the kiss is slow, as she tries to learn your body language, the kiss is meaningful, but is cut short when she starts freaking out.
"jesus christ y/n i'm sorry."
"i didn't mean to do that, it was an accident,"
an accident?
"oh, uh, yeah it's fine." you say, confused on what the big deal was, you've been wanting to do that forever, but i guess things weren't reciprocated.
things quickly got awkward, and then paige says something that honestly breaks your heart a little.
"maybe you shouldn't stay the night tonight, i uh, got family stuff."
you knew that wasn't true, she just didn't want you around after a moment like this just happened. but why is she shutting it down?
"you don't wanna talk first, i mean a lot just happened i think we should ta-" you try to explain to her when she cuts you off.
"just go home y/n." her voice cold and bleak, making you queasy.
paige was never like this with you, can a kiss really change everything? you thought asking your best friend a question would make you lose her, but you two KISSED. your heart dropped to your feet with the thoughts swarming in your head, "is she gonna leave me?" being the main one.
the next day rolls around, it was 12:30, the time she usually got back home after practicing with her dad, and you’ve received no sign of her, no texts or missed facetimes, which was unusual since you promised each other two years ago you'd try to facetime every. single. day. "she just needs time," you thought to yourself, but you text her anyway.
"hey paigeyyy, i'm gonna go to the store later, did you want me to pick anything up for you? i can drop by your house and give it to you?"
read 12:35pm
she read your message, but didn't respond until ten minutes later with a simple and dry "no" which made you sigh and move on about the day.
you missed paige. you slowly start to regret last night, but there's nothing you can do to change it. you already miss her face, her hugs, her lips, and how she looked at you. you open your camera roll to see a picture you and her took last night after her game, her holding you bridal style while you hold up her trophy, both of you smiling at each other. you put your phone down and decide to lay down for the rest of the day, as you had no motivation to do anything knowing your best friend didn't even wanna speak to you.
but deep down it was more than that, you had really fallen for paige, not wanting anyone but her, was that so wrong?
paige on the other hand, was losing it. she didn't know what to do with herself. there was no way she liked girls, let alone her best friend.
so why did she kiss her?
she wanted answers, but she couldn't and didn't want to talk to anyone about it, scared of how others would perceive her, worried she'd lose people over this, and worst of all, she didn't want to lose her best friend. she had to push her away, she needed space to think.
she thought there was nothing wrong with that, but it was the worst thing she could've done.
a week passes, neither of you are talking much, you haven't facetimed in what seems like forever, and her responses to you are weak and bland, making you feel as if she's not interested in talking to you anymore.
prom is approaching, you and paige planned to go together, to dance, make fun of other peoples dancing, and have another lively moment before summer break. but after that night, you're not sure what you two are gonna do, mainly because the day of prom, paige hadn't texted you at all. you weren't gonna go since you figured she wasn't, but you needed to get out of bed and go do something fun to get your mind off of the situation.
a couple hours go by, and you're finished getting ready. you have on an all black floor length dress, with small purple accents, since you already pre picked it out, intending to match with paige. you took your pictures with your parents, and drove to the school, as prom was being held in the gym this year.
you get there, hands clammy from your nervousness. you hate being here without paige, you wanted to take so many pictures, make so many memories, slow dance, and this was gonna be the night you were ACTUALLY planning on kissing her for the first time, showing her how long you've loved her.
the whole time you've been standing around looking bored, knowing you'd have so much fun if paige were here. that's until a guy from the football team comes up to you, asking you to dance with him. you insist, as you have nothing better to do. a slow song starts, and you and him are dancing slowly, until you notice a familiar face walk in the gym. paige.
she sees you and him and storms off to the bathroom, furious at the fact that you looked so beautiful, and that she wasn't the one with hands around your waist, taking in all your beauty.
you excuse yourself from his grasp, walking towards the bathroom, letting it clear out before you walk in.
"hey.." you say softly, not wanting to come off aggressive as if she hasn't been talking to you in what seemed like ages.
"what the fuck is he doing slow dancing with you? that was our thing y/n." she says, sort of yelling at you, but you quickly retaliate.
"no paige. you don't get to be mad at me because YOU shut me out. all i wanted to do was talk to you, you made me feel crazy, like something was wrong with me." you say, starting to cry.
"you completely went ghost on me, since before that night i've wanted no one but you, but i guess it doesn't matter,"
"i didn't come with him, he just asked me to dance because i looked bored, so i said yes." you tell her, looking at the tiled bathroom floor.
paige cups your chin and pulls your head up so you can look her in the eyes.
"i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have ran from you, i was scared. i really did mean to kiss you, just not like that. i wanted it to be special, i wanted it to be while we danced. i thought he was about to take that opportunity away from me. it woulda been memorable y'know?" she says while looking deep in your eyes, hoping you'd forgive her. “i know i’ve been acting weird, i just didn’t know what to do if i lost you.”
"i was also scared of what people would think of me, yknow, liking girls and shit. especially liking you, you're perfect, i didn't wanna ruin anything for you."
you don't respond immediately, until she says what's been on her mind since she met you.
"i'm in love with you, y/n. i've loved you since the first time i met you, you keep me sane, and without you i was losing my shit. there’s nothing wrong with you ma, and i apologize for making you feel that way."
your eyes go a little bit wider, and you finally respond, "i love you too paige, i always have. forget what other people think p, nobody matters but me with you." you smile wide at her and she smiles back, finally feeling content with herself, knowing she said what needed to be said, and could kiss you whenever she wanted to.
she leans in to kiss you, but you stop her.
"what cmon, i can't kiss you now?" she said to you while rolling her eyes.
"you said you wanted it to be special right?" you grab her hand and hold it for a while.
"yes ma'am i did," she says, leading you out of the bathroom and back to the gym, where another slow song has started. she quickly rests her hands on your waist, your hands on her shoulders, as you two sway to the song blasting through the cheap speakers the school borrowed.
"god, you look beautiful baby." paige says, finally taking in all of your perfection. your hair, makeup, and jewelry aligned perfectly, fitting you so well, she just loved looking at you. before you two continue dancing, she pulls her phone out of her dress pants pocket, and while she does so you take a good look at her. she looks stunning. a black button up and black dress pants, a silver chain completing the look. she goes to her camera app, and you kiss her on the cheek as a pose for the picture. she snaps multiple and eagerly changes her lockscreen.
"i love seeing this beautiful face everytime i turn my phone on," she says, you roll your eyes out of her corniness, but it still makes you blush. you also take a picture of the two of you, and you update your lockscreen as well.
"and i love seeing yours, and plus, this button up looks a little too good on you," you tell her, making her bite her lip slightly.
she grabs your hand and twirls you, bringing you back in, your faces exceptionally close to one another. the slow song comes to and end, and paige takes one hand off of your waist to cup your face, and connects her lips with yours and utters the words that make you happy to have met her,
"i love you y/n."
"i love you too paige."
and for the first time, you knew you had a forever person, and that person was paige bueckers.
HEY BAD BITCHESSS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD I KNOW THERE’S NOT MANY HOPKINS FICS OUT THERE SO I WANTED TO TRY! i’ll try and be consistent with posting, just bare with me 🙂‍↕️ love you
tags: @rosemariiaa @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter
🫶🏽🫶🏽
the collage that “would’ve been posted”
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pedroshotwifey · 17 hours
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Trouble in Paradise (Part One)
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Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.
Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada
A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3
*******
You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 
After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 
You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 
“Sweetheart?” 
Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.
You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 
“Be down in a minute!”
Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 
You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—
You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 
You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 
It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 
His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 
He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 
“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 
Smooth, you think. 
“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 
He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 
You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 
Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 
Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 
You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.
Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 
When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?
Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 
You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 
You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—
You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 
“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 
Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 
“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 
“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 
“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 
“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 
In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 
“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”
You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 
He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 
You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 
“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 
*****
Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?
You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 
God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 
It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 
Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 
You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 
“Come in,” you call, unmoving.
“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 
You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 
Oh thank God. 
“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 
You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 
Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 
“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 
He gives you a hug and closes your door. 
You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 
*****
As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 
The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 
Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 
“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 
You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 
You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 
It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 
“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 
“I’m hungry.” 
Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 
You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 
Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 
He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 
“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 
He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 
Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 
“By the window, darlin’,” he says.
You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 
“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 
Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 
“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 
The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 
You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.
For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 
But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 
through your earbuds. 
You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 
He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.
“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 
You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 
“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 
He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 
The speaker dings again:
“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 
Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 
******
You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 
You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 
There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 
You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 
You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 
“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 
“Yeah, I’m okay.” 
Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 
“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 
You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 
He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 
“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”
Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 
“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 
You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.
You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 
“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 
You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 
“What all are we going to be doing?” 
Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 
“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 
“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 
You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 
“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 
Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 
“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 
Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”
“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 
You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 
Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 
******
Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.
Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)
Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!
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frodo-with-glasses · 18 hours
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Where have you been?
Uhhh, France?
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(That’s a Hamilton reference, btw. I have never been to France.)
So! Another Hobbit Day is upon us. On this day last year, I’d promised you all that we would take another trek through LotR, with all new drawings and poems and fanfics. I fully expected to be finished with Book One by now, at least halfway through FotR. What actually happened is that the blog struggled through the first five and a half chapters of the book before suddenly going radio silent.
So what happened?
Well, as you might expect, real life happened. I won't go into the details here—since it has nothing to do with LotR—but I can explain in DMs if anyone is interested.
Basically, a change in my family led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about my family, which led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about myself, which kicked off an intense period of self-improvement.
Over the course of this past year, I began to unpack my family's abuse; I learned about boundaries; I started to unlearn my old people-pleasing tendencies; I reconnected relationships that were broken, reevaluated ones that were in the wrong place, and cut off ones that weren't good for me. I discovered there was a little kid in my head who's been waiting years and years for an adult to love her, and to take her needs seriously, and I finally have the chance to be that adult. And I'm happy to say that I've come to a place where I feel safer in my own head than I have ever been.
Probably very little of that is going to show through on this blog. It's all inward stuff; foundational stuff. But one thing that might affect you guys is that I left my (dreadfully overstimulating and stressful) part-time job, and I'm now working full time somewhere else. As much as I love what I do for a living now, working 40 hours a week does mean that I am become Boring Adult who does not have as much time for interneting. With my current schedule, there is no way I'd be able to sustain the intense schedule of "must post one drawing a day" that I had in the early days of this blog; and I don't expect myself to.
But! I would like to—slowly—get this train rolling again.
I find it hilariously apropos that the last piece of art I posted on this blog was of Frodo suddenly disappearing. From Merry's perspective, he completely vanished without explanation or warning. From your perspective, so did I.
But I find myself here again, on another September 22nd, and once again I'm beginning to feel that pull; that pull to read, and draw, and create, and share, and laugh with all of you. Life has calmed down enough for me that I once again have the mental space to think about pursuing my hobbies. There are so many things I want to do—so much to do with the time that is given to me. And I want this blog to be on that list.
My current goal is to post some new book art every other day. If that's too much, I'll adjust it. But if I find my groove and really get into it, who knows? We might return to your regularly scheduled Daily Dose of Frodo-With-Glasses. We shall have to see.
Anyway. If you've read this far, thank you! If you've stuck with this blog since the early days, thank you. And if you are one of that lovely core Fellowship that has had my back and prayed for me all along, I cannot thank you enough.
This past year has been an absolute ride. Not as difficult as a trek to Mordor, maybe, but not easy either. But no matter where I walked, I knew I didn't have to take the journey alone.
Anyway! Enough sappiness. Happy Hobbit Day! I'm excited to see what the next year has in store for us. 💚
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fraugwinska · 3 hours
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Giveaway 2nd Prize Winner Piece
Hello my loves! Our darling @lil-glum, who won myy 2nd prize in the 1k Follower giveaway, has graciously allowed me to share the finished piece with you all! It was a delight to work with her - and her ideas were so good that writing this felt less like work and all the more like a treat! <3 So much so that I, in fact, went a bit overboard with the word count! ;> As usual: Minors DNI or I'll curse you to always have moist socks!
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Paint the Town Red
For weeks now, Alastor had stalked out that little human like a vulture, circling high above the oblivious prey and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Revisiting the living world should've been a glorious occasion, since summonings were becoming so rare nowadays, but that moron who dared to call on him hadn't been worth his while - but she was.
Luck and curse had it that he didn't have to return to hell right after the laughably one-sided deal was striked, leaving him time enough to put a little glamor on to stroll around town in his earthly disguise, freshly brewed coffee in hand, and see what humanity had been up to since his demise. The world had become frivolous, no class at all, and Alastor had felt at ease knowing that he had lived at the peak of culture and manners, never to be bettered.
And then she ran into him. Deeply immersed in a book - not those audacious electronic devices people put their nose in every waking hour - she'd rounded the corner while Alastor gawked around, lost to the world captured on the yellowed pages. A head full of red, silky locks had bumped into his chest and the book as well as his coffee dropped, the former to be saved by his quick reflexes. A simple flick of his wrist, and the book was back in her hand, while his cup of java laid spilled in a muddy puddle between their feet.
"Oh! Oh no - I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!" she'd said, pushing her glasses back her nose as she smiled up to him apologetically, and when Alastor met her eyes, something shifted. And just like that, the hunt was on.
"No harm done, darling. The coffee was poorly done anyway."
Since time was running out, he turned up his charm to at least get the girl's name and maybe another meeting out of the encounter, already planning on ways to return. Thankfully, she'd given it all too gladly, and promised to invite him for coffee as an apology for the spilled one. He'd taken the sound of her name into his hands like the greatest treasure, repeating it over and over in his mind as he was being dragged back to the afterlife tasting each vowel and consonant. Hunting down an indebted incubus and acquiring its asmodean crystal had been as easy as working out how to use it. And oh - did he use it.
His absence from his duties in the hotel became more and more obvious, but Alastor couldn't stop himself. It wasn't even the thrill of the chase that kept him going. Every time he saw her, it was as if her mere presence called out to an unknown part of him, as if her voice was a siren's call, as if her scent was a drug created just for him. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about her: The delightful way she laughed at his quips. The elegant way she spoke about her interests. The way she brushed her fiery hair back over her shoulder when she was nervous…
Alastor wanted it all, and he wanted her.
"Alastor, are you listening at all?" she smiled at him, pulling him out of his raging thoughts.
"My apologies, dear, I was merely...distracted. Please do repeat yourself." he cleared his throat and gave her a wide grin. The abandoned park they walked in was tinted in oranges, greens and browns, little specks of autumn's palette so becoming to her complexion.
"I was saying that I don't really feel like going back home yet. How about we take a detour - explore a little?" she proposed, pointing down to a small trail that led away from the main road, lined with trees and shrubbery, "There's supposed to be a pond around there, and I think it would be nice to enjoy your company a little longer."
Alastors ears perked up and his smile widened, threatening to mirror the one he always wore down in hell. She wanted to be alone with him, far away from prying eyes - that wonderful, naive thing.
"That sounds delightful, my dearest - lead the way!"
His mind was running wild with possibilities as he followed her down the path, watching her red locks bounce as she hopped down the sloping ground. How much she trusted him was as endearing as it was thrilling, and the urge to reach out and take her by the arm to pull her into his own grew with every step he took, the demon in him aching for a taste of her. He wasn't one to rush good things, and he wanted to enjoy this, make it last as long as he could, savor every moment of the inevitable fall.
She was chattering away happily, unaware of the obsessive way he watched her. Her hips swayed hypnotically, the hem of her wool skirt grazing her thighs ever so slightly, and Alastor wondered if the flush of her cheeks from the cool autumn air would be found elsewhere on her delectable body, too. He knew he had to control himself, but with his desire burning hot like the flames of his true home, Alastor struggled.
Finally, they reached the small pond and she turned around to him, beaming with accomplishment. The sight of it, of her prideful smile and trusting eyes so enthrallingly focused on him was too much, and whatever she was about to say was swallowed by his lips crashing into hers. His gloved hands held her face firmly as he pushed her against a tree, the bark scratching into the back of her coat. He had wanted this for so long, the feeling of her soft lips moving against his, her hands clawing at his shoulders, indecisive on whether to pull him closer or push him away. She gasped into the kiss and Alastor took the chance to push his tongue inside, swallowing her moan as apparently made up her mind, tugging at his coat as he finally devoured her.
It was entirely, decidedly too much: The warmth of her, the taste, the touches, the sounds, he couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get close enough. With ferocity, he got rid of every offending layer of obstructive clothing, reveling in the way she breathed his name, pleading to the deity that couldn't care for mercy and to him to ruin her. And he gladly granted her wish, benevolent as he was, his lips trailing down her neck, teeth nipping at her collarbone, tongue laving over her exposed breasts as his hands stroked up her legs, fingers disappearing under her skirt to brush against her core.
"Please, Alastor - oh!" she whimpered when he pushed a finger inside her wet cunt, the tight heat making him growl in approval. He wanted her to beg, he wanted her to cry, wanted her to break down before him and ask him for salvation. His glamor flickered, struggling to hold against the loss of control.
"Look at you, my dear, so eager, so wanting," he crooned as he pushed another finger inside her, watching her back arch from the tree, her body seeking out his hands like a magnetic pull. Brown hair slowly turned red, antlers sprouting from its crown, his modest gray coat faded into his signature crimson pinstriped frock, and she gasped into his hungry mouth as he let the grip on his magic go and revealed himself completely as the demonic overlord that he was. Alastor, the Radio Demon, laughed, licking along her jaw as he slowly increased the pace of his claws, earning another sweet sound of shocked pleasure from his little, confused human.
“Don’t let my true form deceive you, my darling - No matter what happens… I’ll make sure you see heaven.”
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Note
As the original Anon who sent the FIRST ask, I am a male victim of SA, by a woman who has since changed the history by claiming that I SA'd her instead. You calling me a little bitch, multiple times, going into multiple different rp threads to bring it up, and call me a bitch.
I had to leave tumblr for a few weeks.
I was not the second Anon. And even if I were, while I may not have approached in the friendliest way, calling me a bitch for telling you that it's not alright to remove male rape victims
Especially when Circe is a victim of SA, just mot by Odysseus. I agree with some others I've seen. Stop burrying your apology with roleplay, take a few days to think. I'm sorry this is hard on you, but when you use SA as a simple plot line this is what you need to consider.
Look, I don't know whether you really are the first anon like you say you are, but I'm just going to take your word for it and trust you are.
I know I fucked up. I really know that, and I'm sorry that I called you a bitch
I'm not going to try and defend myself.
Like I said in the apology, I know that it isn't enough. I was in a bad place at the time with shitty people, and honestly, I'm still in a bad place (although that might change soon)
Don't take this as me making excuses, because I'm not trying to, and I'm sorry if it seems that way.
But yes, although I was being influenced by shit people, those were still my actions and words that I wrote. There is no excuse for that. There is no excuse for what I did and how I initially handled the situation.
If I could take it all back and start from the beginning, I would. Not because it would prevent backlash, but because it would mean that I would be able to stop myself from making a stupid and idiotic decision
I also know that no matter what I do, no apology will be enough to rectify what I've done. And I know there is no 'forgive and forget' in this situation, and although on one hand I do want forgiveness from people who were affected. I know and completely understand that I don't deserve forgiveness from anyone no matter what I do.
At this point, I've made a formal apology and I've done what I can to rectify what I've done. So there's not much else I can do except receive what I deserve.
Your other point, that I'm "burying my apology in role play" I'm not trying to do that. But for me, roleplay is an escape from my irl life. I'm in a situation where, sometimes, I don't feel that I'm safe from myself.
I know that sounds like another excuse, but it's not, it's just the truth.
I know I need help. I've been told that by several people (friends and people I'm close with) but for me, that's something that's very difficult to receive
Regardless of that. I'm not trying to "bury" the apology. When I began roleplay in early June (I think), it became something that I deeply enjoyed.
However, along with that passion, a problem was created, that I easily became addicted to Tumblr and the roleplaying community. It was not something I did purposely, it just happened.
I've tried several times to try and at least reduce the amount of time that I spend on this app. But every time that I try, I always end up coming back (the most I was able to stop for was 1 day).
I'm completely aware that this is a major issue (and writing it down makes both it and me sound completely pathetic) it's not something I can easily fix, but to start with I'm going to attempt to roleplay less. I'm not sure how successful it'll be, but I'll try
But I never meant to make it seem like I'm trying to hide the apology. Roleplay is just something I can't stop myself from doing.
I'm not going to talk about the other stuff, based on the reason that I've already addressed this in my main apology/explanation, and I don't want to just repeat myself
Because of how this has been worded, I've got the idea that you are someone that I've interacted with before, so I'm just going to tag everyone.
I'm sorry if you didn't want to be tagged
@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @i-was-never-sane @clown-energy-skyrocketing @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @southerndaughterofeos @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia
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risingsoleil · 1 day
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The teenager drabble of the AU collection is one of my favorites. Could you let us know how was it when Lin finally agreed to be Tenzin's girlfriend? I'm in serious need of some fluff here
Hi anon~ sorry for taking so long to answer. It took me a while to figure out what might have happened when Tenzin asked Lin out.
Nothing went according to his plan.
A sudden storm swept across the city, ruining Tenzin's picnic date for Lin. He thought he was about to have a heart attack asking if she wanted to go out to dinner instead. By some miracle, she agreed. Maybe she said yes because he asked over the phone and she had no idea he was sweating bullets.
As soon as they hung up, Tenzin practically screamed into his pillow with joy. Aang knocked and opened the door. "Are you okay?"
Tenzin coughed and gave a thumbs up. "Yes, I'm okay."
Aang gave him a look, a smile growing at the flushed pink on his son's face. "Is it something related to a girl?"
"No, Dad. Just...it's nothing."
"O-okay," Aang replied sing-songy, closing the door. "I hope you have a betrothal necklace ready for Lin."
"DAD!!" He doesn't wallow in the embarrassment for too long. Peering out the window, the rains are insistent and neverending. If he's going to go on a date, he better get everything in order.
He manages to get a dinner reservation at a casual restaurant. He's been there before with Lin and his siblings last year, and they all enjoyed it.
He knows that the flower shops should still be open, if he hurries. One bouquet of panda-lillies, and yellow roses. Lin loves yellow roses because they remind her of sunshine and spring.
Well, as it turns out, most of the flower shops closed because some of the streets are flooding with a feet of water. Tenzin visits every single one, hoping and praying for one to have at least a few panda-lillies and yellow roses. None of them do. They were all sold out or packed away due to the sudden storm.
Biting his lip, Tenzin points at all the pink and red roses, carnations, and orchids.
"I'll take them all."
If he can't get Lin panda lillies or yellow roses, he'll buy her half a flower shop.
But he doesn't think how he'll protect the flowers on his way to pick up Lin. The rain doesn't show any signs of stopping, but fortunately, Oogi is with him on this stressful journey.
No matter how much he airbends, Tenzin keeps getting soaked and drenched by the downpour. He bends off the water one last time as he stands in front of the Beifong residence. Tenzin tries to create an air bubble to keep the flowers as dry as possible.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door opens and Tenzin's heart melts and tumbles with joy.
Lin is dressed in a soft pink cheongsam, with the subtle tint of blush on her cheeks and a rosy lipstick. Her hair is curled much neater, and there's a pearl hairpin in her hair.
'I should have made the betrothal necklace already.'
"You look...wow," he whispers, eyes locked on her outfit.
Lin shifts and avoids his eyes, trying not to smile too hard. "Thanks..." She studies him and his usual robes. "You look dry."
"Huh?" He peers down at himself. "Oh, yeah. It's raining. A lot. Super hard."
"Yeah."
Tenzin feels his palms getting sweaty. "Uh, if you don't want to go out tonight, it's ok because of the--"
"No, I want to go out tonight," Lin insists. "I got all dolled up anyway. I don't want to waste it."
All Tenzin can do is nod, and he extends out his arms. "Um, this is also for you."
Lin catches the overly large bouquets of flowers. "Oh, thanks. They're really nice."
"I, um," he rubs the back of his neck, hoping he doesn't sound like an idiot, "I couldn't find any yellow roses or panda lillies, so...I just bought everything this old man had."
Lin takes in every detail of the flowers, a smile growing on her face. "I still love it. Thanks for getting these, Tenz."
"Of course," he says tenderly, feeling his own happiness peeking through. "Uh, do you want to leave the flowers here so that they don't get ruined in the rain?"
"Sure."
Maybe things are looking up for them, despite the storm.
They have Oogi to help them get across the city. Tenzin has an umbrella for Lin.
It breaks mid-flight and Lin starts to get wet. Tenzin makes sure Oogi is steady before hopping in the back and trying to dry off Lin.
"I'm sorry! I thought this umbrella would be okay--"
"Just dry me off when we get to the restaurant," Lin orders, pressing her palm at her forehead to keep her makeup intact. "I'll just keep getting soaked."
Tenzin bites his lip. "We're almost there, I promise."
Dinner should be okay. They're only a few minutes away.
They've made it and Tenzin draws out as much water as he can. But Lin is instantly touching her hair. It's frizzed a bit from the neat curls that he saw 20 mins earlier. Lin pats it down and tries to curl it with her own fingers to tame it.
When the young teens look at the door, they see the sign:
"CLOSED. Diner was flooded. We will reopen in two days. We apologize for the inconvenience."
Grey eyes read the words.
Left to right.
Left to right again.
Lin shrugs. "Well, we can--"
"Are you fucking kidding me?! First the weather, then the flowers, now this?! What the hell, universe?!"
"Don't worry about it, Tenz. We can probably grab some street food around the corner."
Tenzin groaned and he buried his face into his hands, rubbing. "I don't want you to have street food! I want you to have a nice dinner or a picnic on the top of the park hill."
"We can do that another day then."
"No. Ughhh!" he storms up at the door, glaring at the sign. "I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend on the perfect date, with the perfect flowers, and perfect food. But now it's ruined!"
Suddenly, he's spun around and hands grip his robes, yanking him down. Warm and soft lips collide against his and it takes Tenzin a few moments to realize that Lin Beifong is kissing him. Lin exhales slowly, her breath sweeping across his cheeks and rustling his eyelashes. She pulls away and Tenzin feels like he drank an entire barrel of cactus juice.
Her body is only inches away from his, and he wants so desperately for that gap to diminish.
"You..you're...my girlfriend."
Lin smirks and Tenzin notices how her lipstick has smeared slightly, just outside the natural outline of her lips. And he wants to smear it more, until it disappears completely on his own.
"Am I?"
"Huh?" He tilts his head. "Wait, did I ask you?"
Lin shrugs.
"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"
Her arms wrap around his neck and Lin stands on her tiptoes, pressing her lips against his again.
"Does that answer your--"
The last thing Lin expects is for Tenzin to pick her up and run into the rain. Her legs wrap around his waist as the rain descends upon them, and Tenzin creates an air funnel, blasting them into the air.
"Lin Beifong is my girlfriend!" Tenzin exclaims to the heavens, and Lin tightens her hold on him as the earth beckons to her feet again. The rain pelts harder onto them as if heaven gives its blessing to them.
"Tenzin!" Lin yelps, the fabric of their clothes clinging to their skin.
The airbender promptly and safely lowers them both to safety. As soon as Lin's feet are planted on the earth, Tenzin cups both sides of her face and pulls her for a kiss.
He pulls away, grinning. "I promise to be a good husband."
Lin laughs and gives him a look. She pokes his forehead. "You keep skipping steps, Airhead."
"I can't think straight."
"Obviously. Your head is in the clouds."
His hands wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Then bring me back to earth," he murmurs, gazing into her eyes.
For the next ten minutes, the earthbender and airbender seal their relationship beneath the storm. Sudden bursts of energy command their bodies to run through the streets, dancing and spinning under the rain. Part of Lin's makeup runs a little, but Tenzin doesn't care.
Lin Beifong is his girlfriend.
And Lin was right. They do find an alley of street food vendors open, with plastic covers to protect their customers from the brunt of the storm.
Lin eats a chicken skewer and Tenzin has a veggie skewer.
Tenzin reaches over to hold Lin's hand under the table.
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muffin-min · 2 days
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Modern Reader in Journey to the West
Imagine if modern reader suddenly fell into the story of the west, other modern demons fell back in time as well. So when the gang encounters demons, its demons from the past along with demons of the modern age. Let’s also just say modern demons stopped eating humans because at least someone kept stopping them from eating nicely so now they cause havoc instead and just eat animal meat.
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Tripitaka- So since modern demons stopped eating humans through time, they just focused on creating havoc instead??
Reader (trying really hard to hold in a laugh but failing)- yeah….
Tripitaka- and sometimes we need to play along with the chaos they create to get through peacefully??
Reader now covering their mouth from their laughter- yup
Tripitaka (who is very frustrated by the way)- For Buddha’s sake- WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO PLAY DETECTIVE AND WHY IS EVERYTHING IN BLACK IN WHITE, ARE THESE MODERN CLOTHES?!
Reader (now bursted out in laughter cause they couldn’t take the whole thing seriously)- we’re noir detectives!! This is amazing!!
Tripitaka- WUKONG!!
Sun Wukong- I don’t know master, I kind of like this one, and this suit I look.. what was that modern word??
Reader- fly!!
Sun Wukong- I look so fly!!
Sandy- these are really comfortable, I never knew they made coats this long before, but they fit nicely. I really like the hat too
Pigsy- Why do you guys get the cool clothes? I don’t know what this is but I feel very boring
Reader- you're the photographer.. who’s still in school and a nerd!!
Sun Wukong- HA!!
Pigsy- DAMMIT, is this why I'm the only one who had this weird contraption- WHY DOES THE HORSE HAVE A MUSTACHE!!
Bai long Mai- (has a fake mustache on and is very much enjoying it)
Tripitaka (whining again) - I just want to get the scriptures….where are my robes…..
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gideonisms · 4 months
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I want to write I want to make girls be weird about each other in MY word docs I want to have creative projects and goals againn :/
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Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay
#you are a straight man correct? Yes. Attracted to someone you view as a woman correct? Yes... But you are afraid that makes you gay?#Afraid is a strong word but also stop asking stupid questions#The end result is I tend to date a lot of men who either then realize they are women or bi or gay and I am there when they are taking out#the messiest parts of that on whoever they are with at the time#and on one hand it means I created a space that made them feel safe enough to self examine#but on the other hand I'm their last stop when the fallout hits#OR they just realize they find the expectations put on them for masculinity to be really oppressive even negligent or abusive#I would say I need to adjust my strategy and stop trying to 'woo' men the same way I don't actually -flirt- with women#but I have already solved this problem by refusing to date ever again#The retrospective is funny though#The problem is I am attracted to men in a gay way and to women in a gay way but no one tells you the consequence of that and looking#like a pretty butch is that it really confuses the straight guys#Like why is this guy who's usually hmmm... as dom and masc as you would imagine suddenly in my lap and red and having entire feelings#about the way I am holding his hip? He doesn't knoww either and he's really pressed about it#And that thing messy lesbians do where they act jealous of you and also like they want to fuck you at the same time that looks like a red#flag from hell? Imagine dragging that out of unsuspecting straight guys -menTM-#They don't know why they are acting like that around me either but it's going to go one of two ways#either it will seem overtly threatening and aggressive to everyone involved including themselves or they'll have enough social sense#and tact to be playful about it but still not be sure if they are flirting or whether they like me at all#I have patience for one of those and unfortunately[?] it's the guy who's in my lap looks like he's being tortured and can't find his footin#not the guy telling me how much he's going to beat my ass at some game and I am going to like it or some macho bullshit#And I will be oblivious for the first 50% of it#because if there are gods they are cruel#He never realized he's actually the little spoon be nice and give him a minute#He can't tell me he likes me if he doesn't know he likes me but I opened a jar for him and asked him about his feelings and now he's warm#I actually ended up never dating many women at all because of weird lesbian mixed signals and things#At least not while they were women#I don't flirt or make friends I just decide that people are mine and start taking care of them [while respecting their autonomy and shit]#and I am starting to think this is how I make problems for myself#yes I am playing 5-d chess with gender and am now a he/they but it is not what it is cracked up to be
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piplupod · 1 month
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and i often get upset with myself for complaining and venting as much as i do, or also for being as anxious as i am, but given the circumstances that I live in, I do think realistically I am being ... incredibly "well-behaved", all things considered. i could be acting so much worse.
but i do still wish i weren't so ... [gestures vaguely at this whole mess] because it's off-putting for people! and understandably so! but i wish i could make friends!
#i have tried hard to be niceys to be around but things seem to be taking a fairly steep nosedive in my life circumstances#which is . so cruel. because i am trying so hard to get onto welfare right now. i'm desperately trying to carve out a life for myself#but life seems determined to kick me out of it. i would just... really like things to be easy. if i'm honest. it always is such a fight.#i want something to be soft and kind and easy. just one thing perhaps. but i have to create it for myself (thank you art thank you stories)#at least i can create i suppose !!! if i cannot find softness then i will make it myself! if i cannot find love then i will make it myself!#anyways. i feel bad for venting here as much as i do. i try to keep it to myself as much as i can but things just get so isolating often#and there is smth somewhat comforting to put it somewhere where someone may see it. i am alive i am here i exist. you know?#alright pack it up this is ridiculous. shut up shut up shut up you poetry obsessed freak lmfao get out of here w that shit#post cancelled everyone go home we're logging out again. this mfer cannot be trusted with a keyboard and internet access#not even tagging this one. fuck off with this shit jesus christ my guy. shut UPPPP#delete later by order of Chase for the love of fuck LMFAO. i ain't even reading all that holy shit dude#this one freak rly logs in to write the worlds most embarrassing post and then runs away again. LOG OFF AND CRY ABT IT LIKE A NORMAL PERSON#posting literally just bc this is so embarrassing that its funny. shut UP my guy.#sorry if there's a tw i should add but genuinely i cannot be bothered to read over this and find out lmfao#delete later PLEASE lmao
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arcaneyouth · 2 months
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god i wish i had my energy back. i may be feeling better emotionally and physically but i still really can't do much. who knew 2 full days of what i can only assume was a panic attack would do so much damage to my energy stores
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veilblight · 1 year
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they said not to play as the dark urge for your first campaign because literally how am i supposed to do a custom origin run after this
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magentagalaxies · 5 months
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i have so much work to do for finals season which is frustrating bc on the one hand i'm very glad all my classes have project-based finals where i get to be creative instead of just doing an exam or a paper. however. i have a bad habit with every project-based final ever of accidentally getting an idea that's way too ambitious and creating more work for myself than i need to do
however this semester even tho i fell into that exact same trap my two most elaborate final projects each involve 1. editing a video essay which contains an interview i did with paul bellini and at least 45 seconds of it are bellini talking about why he thinks i have great potential as a comedian, and 2. editing a ten minute reel of the documentary footage i got on tour with scott. which of course involves rewatching various videos of me and scott being extremely chaotic together. so i stay winning ig
#my other finals include ''powerpoint presentation detailing the historical significance of mel brooks the producers''#and ''live sketch show that i actually don't have a significant role in but that's fine i have a different sketch class next semester''#(this sketch class was technically ''creating characters and solo performances'' and i really wish i could've done more)#(but also that whole interview-footage-debacle drained so much of my creative energy so sometimes doing the bare minimum is self care)#so i don't have a solo piece in the show. but i do get to say my favorite line in the whole show in a group sketch which is great#and i did sign up to perform an aubrey monologue in a sketch show in a suburb of boston next week#which is gonna be super interesting bc i've been looking to do more performing outside of my college#bc i've found that i don't think college kids are actually my target audience??? or at the very least i want to perform to a wider audience#it's frustrating bc for that show i have to trim the monologue down to 3 minutes but it's the tightest monologue i have and it's 5 minutes#so trimming it down feels like a game of jenga since it's so tight lmao#but honestly even if the performance bombs i'm mostly doing this so i can tell bellini about it lmao#he's so supportive of my comedy and he's been such a great help with my aubrey monologues i feel like this is bellini homework lmao#anyway i probably won't post the video essay publicly bc it's not the style of video essays i want to make#and it's too specific to the class it's for#but if people are interested in watching it i'll send you the vid when it's done#and for the tour video i'll probably post that or at least some version of it#bc that's just gonna be a fun teaser of ''here's the level of behind-the-scenes content you'll be getting from this doc!!''#and also a fun way to be like. audiences don't know me nearly as well as they know scott#but they will definitely know me by the end of this bc there are so many wild interactions i have on camera of me and scott being chaotic#anyway this post was mostly to organize my thoughts of what i still have to do this week#i am so ready to be done with school lmao i'm gonna be spending a full month in toronto this summer#and it's shaping up to be such an exciting time i can't wait
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slippery-minghus · 10 months
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i want to paint, but autism is hungry and needs to be fed 8hrs of skyrim a day
#i'm trying to set up to paint bc i want to!! but every bone in my body says no#i'm gonna feel sad and disappointed in myself if i don't paint because i want to actually *do* something#and not spend this whole weekend having barely even scraped the surface of what i truly genuinely wanted to do#and instead just burn away the time looking at skyrim#i'm not even really having all that much fun playing it!!! but i can't break away from it#which isn't always a bad thing especially on week days but? on a long weekend where i want to enjoy myself??#and i can't because my brain won't let me??? not fun!!!#painting is so boring and understimulating and my brain is way too foggy right now to think about mixing colors and layering#(secretly i don't even want to paint i just want to feel satisfied at creating a thing!!) (my brain is too fried to hold a thought long#enough to do the physical action of painting! it sounds wayyyy too daunting and taxing right now!!)#but if i spend this whole weekend having sat on my ass doing nothing will i feel rested? no!!!#but if i spend all my energy doing A Hobby will i feel rested? also no!!! but then i'll at least have something to show for it#i'm riling myself up and i feel like i ALMOST could make myself paint right now#but as soon as i think of what it will feel like to sit here and focus and move my hands to do the painting my brain screams NO#and sure i can argue i'll feel better if i do it i'll be glad if i do it and it'll be easier once i start#but this isn't the walk i took yesterday (that i was glad i took but still felt like garbage after)#i WANTED to take a walk. i was just struggling with the level of exertion i could manage (walk my neighborhood or drive 30min to the park?)#my brain is latching on to 8hrs a day of skyrim bc that's all i have the energy for#work has been killing me#and it's so painfully bright in my apartment but i can't close the curtains bc i need all the sunlight i can get#i WANT to have the energy to paint and enjoy it but i just don't.... (but i feel like if i Give In to the exhaustion then i'm#no better than my mom who just sits around all day refusing to live her life bc she refuses to take care of herself.#and calls sitting perfectly still—instead of actuvely managing her condition—'not letting her disability win')#(so i don't want to be that. i don't want to waste away like my mom bemoaning how i Just Can't when i totally can!!!#i could push through this exhaustion and hype myself up but the only thing i'm going to be thinking about is Am I Done Yet? Can I Rest Now?)#and i can't convince myself that 'just paint for 30min' is worth it bc mixing paint and setting up is Just So Much#enough that 'just 30min' is a lie and not a legitimate out if i need it to be#i need to commit or not do it. and i just can't......... my eyes hurt and i'm tured and i just wanna play my game#and all this indecision and feeling like i'm wasting time is just making me want to cry. im gonna close the curtains and boot up the xbox;(#personal
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mishkakagehishka · 2 years
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I wanna be an artist so bad bro what am i doing in college
#during the oral exam the eng prof asked me ''why am i even in college?'' (his usual)#and i was like. genuinely thought to myself ''i'm here bc i have to be.''#like when teachers tell you high school isn't mandatory or when you think college isn't mandatorx#by law? sure. but am i gonna find a job without a higher education? in this economy not even a doctorate would help much#i HAVE TO study something and languages are smth i'd be the least suicidal ab studying#but i want to be. a creative.#i also wanna create unsettling art but that is so much easier with auditory and visual mediums...#but... i'll do my best#i'm an artist which means i can do whatever i want it's all in my hands#if i work hard enough and practice i can write truly unsettling things#i can bring the uncanny valley in words i can use the kafkaesque atmosphere i can present weird things as if they're normal#and make it unsettling both in what's portrayed and HOW it's portrayed#i have two novel wips but i think rather than novels i'm better suited for short stories for anthologies for collections#i'm still exploring and getting to know myself as a writer#it makes me a bit sad and disappointed in myself because it's been about a decade since i thought ''this is my calling''#but i just recently decided horror is what i want to write and i can#not help but also feel joyful and happy about the fact that i'm still finding myself#and that i'm still evolving as a writer and that there are probably still so many things i have yet to find out about my art#but for now. [thru tears and gritted teeth] i am writing a dictionary#but even this ! i am expanding my vocabulary which will help my art :]
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