#This had me giggling

[thatsrightice]

Robert Rosenthal, having recovered from his injuries of the Berlin raid (and undoubtedly from Moscow's vodka), flew his last mission after VE-Day. As quickly as possible the 8th Air Force began evacuating American prisoners from German camps. In addition, when the concentration camps were uncovered, it was decided to free as many of those prisoners by air as was possible. For some it meant the difference between life or death.

It was that enterprising dreamer, Harry Crosby, who arranged for Rosenthal's last mission. He burst in upon the latter and soon had Resenthal quite excited over an unusual merey mission, flying [POWs] out of Germany. As he waxed enthusiastic, Rosenthal found himself carried along by the Crosby magic, picking up his gear and hurrying out to the tarmac and the waiting Bays. All the while he assumed Crosby was to come along as navigator. It was not quite so.

As Rosenthal prepared for the flight, Crosby came up with a large carton and poured the contents over his head. It was DDT (a special precaution which not only protected Rosenthal but also the susceptible prisoners). The cloud of powder barely settled before Rosenthal sat again at the controls of the Fortress and, waving goodbye to the grinning Crosby, pointed the nose toward Germany.

— Flying Fortress : the illustrated biography of the B-17s and the men who flew them

[obviouslatin]

great conversations happening over on the personality database ffviii page

[itsohh]

Mon3tr ❤️❤️❤️

[pennyserenade]

billy the kid i wasn't familiar with your game

[puppysdog]

[valve3nthusiast]

regarding locked valve panels: imagine a remote control that locks/unlocks the panels. Like the fob on a car key

I'm pretty sure this was meant in a more "eroticism of not being able to control when you can touch your own junk" kinda way

But. I gotta admit at first I read this as like, a remote that forces someone's panels open or closed

My first thought was "Oh, cybertronian equivalent of pantsing someone/flipping someone's skirt in public." I imagine when they're not aroused sticky arrays are just two thin slits and a node, so it's not precisely public indecency

Honestly now that I think about it that would have good potential for a prank turned sexy situation. Maybe a mech was hiding toys under their panel, or they have a kink for public exposure and get obviously aroused in front of a crowd when their panel is forced open

[olibenyippees]

Fantastic game 10/10

[kalviberry]

I feel like you would enjoy this @ophyliakilledhamlet

No, no it isn’t.

[greykolla-art]

It’s healthy to step out of our comfort zone’s a little!😜

[plutonianplaything2]

OLIVIA I WANNA KISS YOUR FOREHEAD SO BAD

OKAY DO IT I DARE YOU

[limenysnocket]

THIS IS CUTE AS HELL.

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?�� you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin�� to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

[mwagneto]

the companion will go oh god doctor who is that?? and the doctor will get all serious and somber and say listen. he's the most evil creature in the universe. he's the worst enemy i've ever faced. he's horrible and unpredictable and you can never ever let your guard down. and then the villain will walk into the room like this

[inklore]

come for me if you must but colin and penelope’s first kiss was way more hard hitting than any of the other kisses in bridgerton. it wasn’t fast and wild or trying to prove something. it was slow. gentle. a friend helping out another friend with just a simple peck that could have ended there. but no they pulled back and looked at each other and got lost in with another and kissed again. deepened it. both acting as if it would be the only and last time. colin panting into her mouth. his fingers on her cheek. we have been waiting to see this kiss for two seasons. eighteen episodes. penelope has been waiting for this kiss since they were kids. like!! their kiss holds so much more meaning!! hits harder!! i’m sorry but nothing can top it.

[ghostandsoap]

Eeeek.

You can ignore this if you don’t wanna talk Price, but hear me out: the reader from ’Don’t‘ being dared to take other things from Cap’ Price (not realizing they’re fucking) and her wiping her mouth as she shows Soap the cigar he dared her to steal.

ohhhh, i have had this same thought, anon. sameeee thought.

john price x f!reader

(same reader from don’t, but you don’t need to read to know or understand | 18+, includes spice — all price belongs to @guyfieriii )

You’d knocked, all polite and innocent—even if he knew you were anything but. His eyes drinking you in as you close the door, leaning your back against it.

He’d narrow his eyes before your name fell from lips like syrup as you walk closer. His boots are flat to the floor, thighs spreading as you come to a stop, standing between his spread thighs as you take the papers from his hands.

Need a favour.

Favours gonna’ cost y’, love.

And, fuck. You loved what it cost you. Your shorts dropped to your ankles, underwear snapped from your skin with a hiss. Mostly, you loved tasting him, running your tongue around his leaking head as your knees dig into the floor.

Each hiss he let loose, you wished to bottle; each groan of your name, you wished you’d hear forever. Hollowing your cheeks as his hand held the back of your neck, and then—

Only one place I wanna finish, love.

Your chest meets the desk, his hand on your lower back as he slides his cock in to the hilt. A wicked smirk spreads across your face, one you keep hidden, buried. Because you didn’t give a fuck about the cigar that Soap dared you to take—you wanted an excuse to see him. To be at his mercy, to be stuffed full of him.

This just gave you an alibi. A reason for why the two of you were alone.

His palm cupped your mouth, smothering the sounds that fell with ease. Your hands carve their own marks in his wooden desk—leaving reminders of your pleasure in the surface where he works.

He always makes sure you finish first. Pleasure spreads like a fire as it licks its way across your body; making each nerve light as you groaned his name into his palm—searing it into his skin.

The same way he coated your walls in his.

Sorry about y’knickers, love.

You’re forgiven.

Your hand pulls your shorts up, arranging your t-shirt back into place before taking the cigar from his desk. His belt already fastened, looking as handsome as he did when you entered—as presentable—just with a twinkle in his eye.

Holding the cigar up between your fingers, his brow arching.

If he smokes it—

You’ll get to order me in here. Ask me to explain myself. Make me pay for my theft…

The hair around John’s lips twitch, the only indication that he liked the sound of it before he sighed. Picking up his papers, and returning to his leaning position on the desk.

Go. Now. Before I find a reason t’keep y’ere all night.

Yes, sir.

You hear his muttering that you’ll be the death of him, the words ringing through your ears as you head to the mess—trying to stifle the cockiness in your walk. Trying to bury your grin under a guise as you spot them all.

Ghost looks up first, his eyes stern—analytical. Desperately trying to read and understand what has changed. Gaz is next, turning his head, brows narrowing before they smooth out, a smile itching in the corners of his lips.

Then Soap—Johnny.

You don’t let him react, wiping your mouth to conceal your smile and wipe away any evidence, as you lift your fingers. Showing him—them—what he’d been sure you wouldn’t get.

It’s clear before you sit opposite him, stealing a bite from his burger that he doesn’t understand how. His fingers rotate it, disbelief etched into his face.

“How t’fuck d’yer get this?”

Picking a chip from his plate, you wink. “Talent. That’s how.”

[microwavingfranky]

Sorry for being Frobin’s greatest and strongest enjoyer! Sorry!! Geez!!