#except the administrator 😂😂

[rexscanonwife]

For funsies these are just a few inspirations to my mtl s/i 😊💖🫶💖

[freelancearsonist]

every breath you take

➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader

➔ 5.3k words

➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.

➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)

➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33

June, 2013.

After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.

With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect. 

Someone else shares your determination, too.

You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.

It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.

It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.

You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now. 

Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”

“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”

“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you. 

He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.

The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.

The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.

Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–

You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ‘things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.

He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…

Snap.

With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.

You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.

You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.

You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.

Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.

He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.

But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.

Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.

Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.

You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.

No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.

You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel. 

Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.

After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.

“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”

“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”

You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.

A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.

“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”

You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.

There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life. 

If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.

With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.

Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning. 

Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same. 

With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point. 

You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.

Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.

You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.

You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”

“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.

There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.

Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.

His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”

“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.

“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?

“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins. 

Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.

Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.

You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–

The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.

“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”

“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”

“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.

Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.

You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.

At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.

The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.

Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.

Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.

His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”

For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.

“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?

“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.

“It was perfect,” you agree.

For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.

And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.

“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”

You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.

The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.

“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”

“God, yes.”

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.

“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”

“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.

“Ten minutes at the very most.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”

As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”

“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”

It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.

Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”

“Good.”

You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”

“A-always is,” you gasp out. 

His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.

“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”

“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.

“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”

You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.

The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.

“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”

“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“That’s okay. Please.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.

You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.

Later, you remind yourself.

“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.

You’ve never wanted anyone more.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”

“I will, I swear, just please–”

The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.

“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”

You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.

“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.

You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”

The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.

You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so. 

The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.

“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”

The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.

“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating. 

“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”

It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.

“I’m gonna–”

“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”

His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.

“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”

For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–

“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”

“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y’sure?”

You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”

“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”

His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.

He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”

“Not my fault you’re huge.”

He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.

The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.

“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”

He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.

“How’s my make-up?”

“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”

“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.

His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.

“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.

“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”

“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.

He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.

➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my darlings <3 ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

[hydroelectricjaya]

The Administration. I have some things to say about this monstrosity.

DR spoilers under the cut:

LOL that Zane was the one who was the most knowledgeable about the Administration and proceeded to inform the audience about this new entity. Did not see that coming.

First clue something was off - when the portal that Lloyd and Arin jumped through disappeared, it turned into bubbles.

Then we get a first glimpse of this bureaucratic hell in the cubical maze. The multi-generation line for a permit made my blood pressure spike. Too close. 😭 You don’t know bureaucratic hell until you’ve tried getting permits for a project that turns into a multi month long process, massive fees and tons of back and forth and revisions and (pulls out hair) could have been handled internally between departments. (I’m looking at you City of LA). Not to mention driving into downtown LA is an equally soul crushing experience. But I digress. . .

Lloyd and Arin get their mini Matrix adventure “following the white rabbit” (except it is following the white ninja - haha get it?) which leads them to Zane (and be honest, we all thought it was going to be Jay).

Zane then gives us the low down on the Administration. Extreme power paired with gross incompetence. Managers sound like department heads, and the top dog is the Administrator (who we have yet to meet). And it used to be in the realm of madness before the merge. Interesting.

They somehow knew he was attempting to open a monastery portal (did it connect to the Administration?), teleported directly into the monastery and took Zane. Wow, they have powerful tech and surveillance.

The three ninja figure out that the Administration has immense power, yet all of their paperwork is pointless busywork and doesn’t really do anything. Ooofff if that’s not a dig on modern government and large corporations.

“It is impossible to tell the difference between mass incompetence and intentional malice.”

I predict that will be the theme of the Administration: it will be impossible to tell if they’re that stupid or that evil. Unfortunately, that’s how most governments and large corporations are. And they will have an important role in season two. Why go through all the effort to introduce this new land merged with a Ninjago if it doesn’t show up again? Will the top leader, the Administrator, be linked to Raz’s master?

Then we finally see Jay and it looks like he has figured out how to climb the ladder of the Administration’s strict hierarchy. Good for him. Get that executive suite! Get close to the Administrator so when your memories come back you can help your ninja team.

I am excited to see more of the Administration and Jay’s shenanigans next season. I hope he is a total dick to the cubical wagies.

What are your thoughts on the Administration? 

I’m looking forward to seeing how many references to The Office, Office Space, Dilbert, etc. Welcome to government work and corporate life. 😂😭

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Eh? by u/Economy-Alfalfa-2241

Eh? Someone is going to have to explain posh branding to me - the nearest I get to posh is if we've got those carrots in that still have green stuff attached. They're all sneery, those carrots - because Lordy, where do I start?Most importantly: why is Megdusa wafting around in a huge frock and how hard were the camera crew laughing? Why is it so yellow and bleary? Did she dip the camera in the chip-pan? Are we supposed to think she's the long -suffering ghost of Casa Dumbarse: ancient seat of the House of Gobshite?Chip-pan Ghost™? Oh God help me sinners, I can't breathe 😂😂😂Is this Archfail? Or new shiny Sussex? Is one part of another? I mean, ChipPan Ghost is....something, but is this The Brand™? I'm almost expecting this to be some weird psy-op and Ari E is going to pop out from behind the huge skirts of the poshfrock with "ta-da! This is why you need our branding services!" complete with a whole new glo-up and we find out this strange, incoherent mess was all part of how to make a mahoossive SPLASH. Except Ari noped out so we just have a sort of sad.... "blop..."And what if I want Numbnut? Which of these variable organisations is him? This is the most incoherent launch I have ever seen and it leads to nowhere. No products, no services - it's the ultimate "jam later!" but it's posh jam? Say for a minute that I were utterly mental and I wanted to support Brand Suckarse: Reject Royals, then how do I...? Where do I....? Who do I...? There's no overall brand, just these placemarkers each with ill-defined lines.This is their need to stick it the monarchy; Dimbo *will have* the equivalent of the Duchy. But that not only grew up and created an entire market doing so, it's also intricately linked with the Crown and public holdings. You can't just replicate the entire thing elsewhere then try and force it into a business model that didn't even exist when the power structures of the UK were set and yes, the Duchy of Cornwall is private but it's certainly not extant just to feed a product line nor is it a straightforward company holding. It shows how little he really does know of our history that he doesn't understand why he doesn't get his own duchy to play with, waaaah.All that aside and assuming we do the usual bugger-all to stop them, even with everything working out and their keeping this, who will it even serve? Those who want tradition have a billion options, the lifestyle-gurus are selling a curated image based on themselves at least but this looks like it's trying to be BritainLite™ With no disrespect, do they have a target audience in the numbers, with the disposable income and of the strata of society to be buying The Lifestyle? There are plenty of middle-aged mums doing the whole beige thing, the younger ones have different dreams coming up....I just can't see the niche? And don't things like this rely not just on branding, but in repeat sales? Just.....who is this *FOR?* (Well, other than him, her and their egos 🙄)How many vanity projects can they support? post link: https://ift.tt/zLk4K86 author: Economy-Alfalfa-2241 submitted: March 15, 2024 at 03:36PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[kellyvela]

Hi! Sorry if you've been asked this before, I just can't find anything. Do you know if George has ever talked or has been asked about joneris in the past? I only know about that instance in which he asked about whether Jon and Dany would fight or fuck, but I wonder if he has ever talked more about them as a romantic option.

Hello Anon:

I remember Kit Harington being asked about whether Jon and Dany would fight or fuck . . . . Did they ask GRRM the same? 😂 If you have a link, please send that to me 🙏

Jon (ice) and Dany (fire) as a romantic couple is mostly a fan theory, a very popular one, and the show made it even more popular just to destroy it in the very end, by one half of the ship (ice) killing the other (fire) . . . .

Now, as far as I know, GRRM never said anything about Jon and Dany as a romantic couple. He mostly avoid the question or make it about politics . . . . But there is certain secondary source that claims GRRM told him that the meeting of Jon and his aunt is the point of the story . . . .

Let's see:

[Future meeting between Daenerys and Jon Snow?] GRRM: Keep reading [Source]

~~~

“Some people I met thought we have to find the story’s through line. Who’s the important character? Somebody thought that Dany’s the important character – cut away everybody else, tell the story of Dany. Or Jon Snow. Those were the two most popular characters to build everything around, except you’re losing 90 percent of the story”. 

—Rollingstone 2014

~~~

“I had a number of meetings long before David and Dan, with people who said this is the next Lord of the Rings franchise. But they couldn’t get a handle on the size of the material, the very thing that I set out to do. I had all these meetings saying, “There’s too many characters, it’s too big — Jon Snow is the central character. We’ll eliminate all the other characters and we’ll make it about Jon Snow.” Or “Daenerys is the central character. We’ll eliminate everyone else and make the movie about Daenerys.” And I turned down all those deals”.

—Time Magazine 2017

~~~

Do you already know where certain events will lead the Game of Thrones story? Like the relationship between Daenerys and Jon Snow, for example? GRRM: That, I know it. And for many years. But of course, I will not reveal anything to you, it will be necessary to wait for the books. Fire and Blood is a long time before the tomes of the Game of Thrones saga, even if the most attentive readers will find some omens, allusions to subsequent events. But it's no more allusive to Jon Snow or Daenerys than a book about Abraham Lincoln to the Trump administration. —Society Magazine Interview [https://www2.lekiosk.com/fr/publication/society/21423629█ 201812 Society Magazine.pdf]

~~~

About the ice and fire thing that many people believe represents Jon and his aunt, that's a pretty cursory interpretation, not only because GRRM himself said the White Walkers are the ice and aunty and her pets are the fire, but he also said that the title's meaning has many layers, a primary, a secondary, a tertiary meaning, etc. At most, when someone asked about Jon and aunty being the characters most associated with those elements, GRRM said that that was a way to interpret it.

Ice and fire are not meant to be lovers, ice and fire are meant to clash! Read more about it here:

Also take note that GRRM still named the series A Song of Ice and Fire in the so called original outline, but Jon and his aunt was completely nonexistent in his plans. Doesn’t that kind of kill that whole ice and fire argument? Read more about it here:

And of course the Jon and aunt shippers will hold onto a secondary source, the GOT director Alan Taylor, that claims GRRM told him that Jon and his aunt are meant to be, are the point of the story, the ice and fire, etc, which contradicts GRRM's own words in the quotes above.

You can read about the Alan Taylor issue here:

But just think about this very telling fact: The supposed words that GRRM told to Alan Taylor about Jon and aunty being "the ice and fire", "the point of the story", are not featured in So Spake Martin, the legit source for anything that the author has said about Asoiaf over the years. Alan Taylor gave multiples interviews during GOT's S7 about what GRRM told him about Jon and aunty during the filming of S1 in Malta, and he even repeated those words in some behind the scenes DVD stuff or something, and none of these is featured in the main source of GRRM's words about Asoiaf. And I wonder: Why??? Why none of Alan Taylor's "reports" is featured in So Spake Martin, like many others fan reports of their talking, correspondace, encounters, Q&A, etc, with GRRM about Asoiaf???

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thanks for your message!

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 3!!!🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 3 "Not All Who Wanda Are Lost"

Timestamp: 47:13

Video Length: 2min. & 16sec.

The Bad Kids meet Kipperlilly CopperKettle (pt.1 | ‣pt.2)

Jawbone looks nonplussed at the interaction! 😭

Kipperlilly has aced Junior Year! ;0000

Kipperlilly: "Good luck with the buttcrushers"

😭😭😭😭

Fig asks Kipperlilly what changes she sees happening for Elmville! 👀

Kipperlilly: "My platform is about equality, equanimity, and fairness under the rules. And- In the past, there has been an eccentricity to the bureaucratic and administrative decisions of the Aguefort Adventuring Academy that has favored some students over others."

💀💀💀💀 RIPPPP!!! That's SO TRUE!! BUT ALSO RIPP!! 😭😭💀💀 I feel like that's kinda breaking the fourth wall in a way! 😂😂💀💀 To say that some students (the actual players) are more favored than others! 😂💀 Brennan is so good. 💀✋

Zac pointing out Kipperlilly's eyes! 😭✋ Like- Legit though! 😭✋

Adaine: "That girl is worse than Kalvaxus. I know that Kalvaxus was bad. She is our greatest enemy yet."

Murph: "Can multiple people find the rogue professor?"

"Rogue class is actually just the rogue students like- comparing notes and finding clues and lessons and puzzles that the rogue professor has left hidden around like- in trapped areas and other stuff like that."

"So, you've been going here for years, you've done all your classes, but you've still never met the teacher. The teacher just leaves calling cards in like- cat-burgled second-story windows."

Nobody has ever met the ACTUAL rogue professor (except for Kipperlilly apparently)! The rogue professor just leaves calling cards! 😭😭✋✋

"The Rule is, if you find the rogue professor in a year, you ace all of your classes for that year."

[luminouslywriting]

If you're still taking requests, I'd love to get your take on the boys' careers postwar? Except for Rosie, because we all know he's a lawyer. 😂 I know MOTA is based on real life, but I'm asking more so about your interpretation of the characters, if that makes sense! Personally, my wild-card headcanon is Brady as a therapist, but that's just me.

Ahh yes, my beautiful career men husbands who I await to return to me....here you are haha! I only did a few of them but hopefully you enjoy!

Bucky Egan:

We all know that this man had a successful military career. But what else would he be doing if he was not in the military? He’s a busy-body who needs to feel as though he’s doing something meaningful and helping people. I think he would be best suited to being a veterinarian or some sort of physical therapist.

Gale Cleven:

Again, he led a successful military career. But I think that in this AU, he would run a really successful landscaping business and be into helping people build something long-lasting.

John Brady:

The music career seems to fit him well. But if he was going to go into something else? I could see him being a social worker or some sort of administrative role in a hospital.

Harry Crosby:

I truly believe we could have it all if Harry Crosby became a movie writer or a personal chef. That is all, thank you

[dystopicjumpsuit]

I'm not sure how many of these you've already answered so I hope you don't mind me sending you a hand full! B F H K and Y for the fanfic game, also, I'm sending you all the happy weekend vibes your way cos you deserve it!

No problem at all! I love this game.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

I work in academia, so I definitely was inspired by that when I was writing "Martyrs and Kings." Things like the endless deluge of administrative tasks, and also the gala scene with the lecherous donor--those were pulled straight from life (except my organization named a museum after him, not just a wing 🤢). Beyond that, I think most/all of my fics have some element of displacement or migration/diaspora. My family fled my home country when I was a teenager to escape cartel violence, so those themes of alienation and struggle to find a place that feels like home tend to work their way into most things that I write. Finally, I am bisexual, and I seem to include a lot of queer characters in my stories.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

I'm pretty happy with this scene in "Martyrs and Kings." I think it shows so much of Kix's charm, and I enjoyed throwing Maree off her game. I also liked the inversion of roles for Kix, the medic who now is getting medical "care" from someone who is very much Not That Kind of Doctor:

“Where else are you hurt?” she demanded.

“Nowhere,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

He took a hitching breath, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered.

He shot her a startled glance.

“What?” he asked.

“Off. Take it off. I know you’re hiding more injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, rising to comply.

He shed his jacket and then slipped his shirt over his head with a tiny grunt of pain.

She hissed in a breath and unleashed a torrent of curses that made Kix’s mouth drop open in awe. The entire left side of his ribcage was covered in dark bruises.

“Will you teach me how to swear like that, doc?” he asked as some of the tension in his face began to ease. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

H: How would you describe your style?

Oh, that's tough! 😂

I think I'd describe it as introspective. I like to explore the characters' inner lives, and sometimes I do it to the detriment of the action. My next longfic will be more action-oriented, so I'm hoping to strike a balance there.

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

It's a spoiler for the next fic, alas! I will say that it gave me writer's block for two weeks because it hurt my feelings every time I opened the doc. 😭

Y: A character you want to protect.

Oh my god, every clone. All of them. Just let me gather them up like ducklings and take them somewhere safe and warm and happy. Most specifically, Echo and Gregor. I know I'm hyperfixating on them right now because they're the heroes of my WIP, but damn, they've been through enough. Let me protect them.

[danpuff-ao3]

15 Questions

Thanks for the tag @sitp-recs & @billsfangearring!! 😄 These are always fun!

Tagging: whoever wants to be tagged, I'm too shy to tag rn 🙈

Are you named after anyone? My middle name is Denise after my great-grandfather Dennis! I'm the oldest of 7 and all of us are named after someone, though with all but one it's a middle name. (Just some extra fun facts!)

When was the last time you cried? Oh lordy. Sometime during the week I think I vaguely remember working myself up in my head and getting teary over it 😬 Though full on sniffling and sobbing and tears falling was Sunday because my partner played the song "Traveling Soldier" (he really likes songs that make me cry which is rude.)

Do you have kids? absolutely not nor do I want them. I'm the oldest of 7 remember? I did my time.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?��bahahahahaha.

What’s the first thing you notice about people? Their energy/vibe. Which sounds weird so my next thought was "voice" 🤔 Which also seems weird so...um. Probably mouth because I can't hear very well so I use lip reading to help. Which also sounds weird so...Eyes? Perfectly not weird answer. Except apparently most people I know don't pay attention to people's eyes which ??? So potentially still a weird answer but maybe the least weird of them 😂

What’s your eye colour? Brown!

Scary movies or happy ending? HAPPY ENDING.

Any special talents? I want to say "no" but my therapist would not be best pleased with that. Um...I pick up new skills pretty quickly. I'm pretty good at self-learning and figuring things out. I can bake very well! I've been told I'm a decent writer 😄

Where were you born? born and raised in the friggin' BIBLE BELT. In the good ole U.S. of A. Born in Mississippi which is only just marginally worse than where I am now. 😂 (Never thought I'd say anything nice about Louisiana, but here we are.) (Just kidding we have crawfish and king cake.) (Also New Orleans alone makes up for everything else imo.)

What are your hobbies? reading, writing, commenting on fic!, listening to music, dancing, organizing (yes it's a hobby please leave me alone), baking, collecting (100% a hobby), refreshing Reddit for new AITA posts 🤣, Tumblr nonsense, pestering my friends on Discord, Wikipedia rabbit holes, pacing (please don't ask), gazing admiringly at my partner (listen...don't judge me) uh...that's it? Oh wait! Also makeup. ALSOOOO...trying to make new friends :) (When I'm not feeling too shy/anxious, that is!)

Do you have any pets? no :(

What sports do you play/have you played? what is this "sport" of which you speak?

How tall are you? 5'6"? ish?

Favourite subject at school? art! Which is funny because I have 0 art talent now but it's still fun and I loved my teacher! English was a close second though.

Dream job? idk I work administration now and I actually really like it?? My specific current job is not the best, but in general I like it. I like data entry, organization, paperwork, etc. But also working at a bookstore would be neat! So maybe doing admin work related to books would be the ultimate dream! But really nothing super fancy or prestigious or anything. I'd never want to monetize anything I'm actually passionate about, so as long as I can make money keeping to myself and staying busy I'm fine!

[gracehosborn]

Don’t you just love attempting to work on your outline for your historical fiction novel and you find yourself hours later with too many tabs of your main character’s papers open?

Yeah that was me for the last two days. But wow did I find and re-read some fun stuff.

Every now and then as I draft Volume I of this Hamilton trilogy, The American Icarus (whose title has a fun story that I might go into if anyone’s interested), I like to review my current outline in making sure plotlines are solid both for this book, and for Volume II and III, as some of them bleed into the rest of the trilogy (Alexander’s economic studies, his relationship with Elizabeth Schuyler, such with John Laurens, and his feelings towards the Continental Congress for instance).

Upon reviewing TAIVI’s outline again, I realized a few of these weren’t fleshed out (given time to grow and develop) very well. Really, it felt like they were crammed there. Originally I had planned to just add one new chapter, but no I added ten 😂

Nonetheless, I set to work digging through Hamilton’s papers again 😂 Here’s some of the gems I found or got to re-read for your enjoyment:

Indeed, my Dear friend, to drop allegory, you can hardly conceive in how dreadful a situation we are. The army, in the course of the present month, has received only four or five days rations of meal, and we really know not of any adequate relief in future. This distress at such a stage of the campaign sours the soldiery. "Tis in vain you make apologies to them. The officers are out of humour, and the worst of evils seems to be coming upon us-a loss of our virtue. "Tis in vain you attempt to appease; you are almost detested as an accomplice with the administration. I am losing character my friend, because I am not over complaisant to the spirit of clamour, so that I am in a fair way to be out with every body. With one set, I am considered as a friend to military pretensions however exorbitant, with another as a man, who secured by my situation from sharing the distress of the army, am inclined to treat it lightly. The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress-I hate the army-I hate the world-I hate myself.The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you and Meade.

From Hamilton To John Laurens, Sept 12, 1780

This letter always makes me want to give Hamilton a hug.

Adieu, be happy, and let friendship between us be more than a name.

From Hamilton to John Laurens, Sept 16, 1780

Aww.

It is now a week my Betsey since I have heard from you. In that time I have written you twice. I think it will be adviseable in future to number our letters, for I have reason to suspect they do not all meet with fair play. This is number one.

From Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler, August 1780

This always makes me laugh out loud every time I come across it. He essentially told her “hey here’s my new filing system!”

I have received a letter from my Laurens solicitg an interview on the Pensylvania Boundary. The General has half consented to its taking place. I hope to be permitted to meet him; if so, I will go to Philadelphia and then you may depend, I shall not forget the picture you requested.

From Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler, [2-4, July, 1780]

This grabbed my attention for a couple reasons, but the biggest one is, did he ever get permission to meet Laurens? We don’t know.

Despite the fact that I ended up making this book longer than I’d planned, I did have fun re-reading and finding some of this for the first time. How does your outline process work? Anything exciting? The effort here wouldn’t tell you that my outline is literally just a bunch of bullet points 😂

[kmp78]

“White House invite”. SLwill probably show up late to the wrong address unless he is handcuffed to CS. The war on drugs is a major Biden admin focus. There are several projects going on via the administration that CS may have signed on to particularly one about “telling your story” which she is always eager to do whether anyone is listening or not. Maybe someone liked what she said.

SL at the WH is gonna be comedy galore. 😂

Except I'm expecting her to turn up solo. 💯

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Mark Dyer Harrys keeper? by u/Minimum-Finance-5271

Mark Dyer Harry’s keeper? What do people know about this guys mark dyer? Looks like he was a male role model for the boys, a male minder brought in I think even before Diana died. Sort of a male nannie for the boys as they started to get rambunctious and too hard to handle as pre teens. He’s been with Harry all his life since, seemingly a male nanny well into Harry’s adult hood. I bet he could tell a tale or two.What brought me back to this guy was that I picked up a tumblr blogs timeline on Meghan and Harry’s relationship, it’s a long and enlightening read, things that were often confirmed not just rumour that made my jaw drop at the audacity of Meghan, she was really pushing it and I can see why some people really felt sorry for Harry in the beginning, long interestingness read see link below https://ift.tt/pfZubqa stood out to me in the part above was this tidbit5/10/2017: Mark Dyer sells his pubs to move out of London. The article is the first confirmation that he/his pubs had hosted Harry and Meghan for dates in the early days of their relationship. Speculation begins that Dyer doesn’t like Meghan at all.Gosh that sure sounds like mark dyed probably owned a bunch of pubs, maybe floated or assisted financially by the brf or even Harry, that would have been very convenient for Harry. It would be like having club h back at high grove, a private pub where grey could act as much a fool as he wanted without anyone finding out. Cause if his friend/nanny owned the bar he would of course ensure that guest were reprieved of cameras or had their phones checked before entering to keep lil Harry’s hero pr intact hmm? Maybe when Meghan came along she got Harry convinced he didn’t need these bars that he was going to grow up and be a married man/she didn’t want Harry to be able to go somewhere that was controlled by someone loyal to Harry not her. And if their Interaction at that polo match is anything to go by Marko didn’t care for madame. If Harry told mark he didn’t need these pubs or that he wasn’t going to help finance them anymore maybe that’s why mark closed them when Meghan came along.I thought I heard that this guy works at archwell. Probably doing nothing except getting paid for his silence and occasional handling/babysitting of Harry when Madame or her mother are not around. The guy seems sleazy to me, basically Harry’s nanny who has seen a lot of Harry’s worst behaviour, and it this point is basically an accessory to them. Not such a good role model if this is what Harry became.I notice that William doesn’t have some nanny taking care of him, almost like he’s a grown up.This isn’t really going anywhere, I just always wondered about this guy, but the more I find out about him the more it becomes apparent he’s just some dumb rich man Childs nanny 😂🤮🤮Thanks for looking! post link: https://ift.tt/47u0em2 author: Minimum-Finance-5271 submitted: April 19, 2024 at 01:19AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[stonedasamartyr]

I was talking with my dad last night about the adoption of the julian calendar and evidence in the Qumran dead sea scrolls that sorta explains the debates surrounding the counting of time and the timing of Jewish festivals in the book of Jubilees, and we got to the existential problem of the pre-julian calendars and reckonings that only included 10 months which still had 30 or 31 days, and we were like “well if its based on the sun, moon, or seasons, we’d have to assume that over the past three thousand or so years that we can map onto a 365-day year, we have for SURE lost count of the years as we know them today over time...” so today i was like “lemme look that up” and it turns out apparently during the ten month calendar utilized by the romans before 36 BCE (not universally used, there was a 12 month calendar that sometimes shows up, thats just the date, give or tale, that the Julian calendar was actually introduced in roman administration) they just didnt count days toward a calendar year during winter lol😂 i mean the full discussion and the historical reality is obviously way more nuanced than that, it also doesnt matter all that much except to try to discern roughly when certain things were going down, but it was funny and worth sharing to read a scholarly source that basically was like “yeah they just chilled out on the whole time counting thing during the winter lol”

[inlovewithaspiderguy]

So, my top gun maverick review that I promised yesterday:

Military propaganda. Obviously.

Kind of enjoyed it anyway.

There literally are only two songs that weren’t made in the 80s like my dudes. Seriously.

Tom cruise with his plastic face looks like he is 35 years old.

What was the point of Miles Teller’s moustache? “Oh look he’s got the same facials as his dad” yeah it shows?! Two roads: the character wants to look like his father to be closer to him, or the production thought we wouldn’t understand that he’s goose’s son unless he’s his physical clone.

I don’t like Hangman. And I have every reason too. He’s cocky and a dick to everyone from the get go, but especially Rooster, for no reason except to parallel the Iceman-Maverick relationship of the first movie. This man goes through zero character development besides “oh I thought I would be in the final team but I didn’t”. It could’ve made him reconsider his behavior if someone told him he got excluded because he’s a cocky douche, but that wasn’t the case!

While I was expecting him to save maverick and rooster, it’s not a redemption arc. He’s not a main antagonist, just an asshole. They didn’t make him reflect on himself, and simply saying “he saved them, so he’s nice now” isn’t enough for me.

Btw the real antagonists in this movie are the enemy base and… the military administration not letting maverick do whatever the fuck he wants? Not letting him risk his life and destroy expensive material? Wow, they sure are mean.

I learned while watching this that my mother really fancies Jon Hamm and I’m totally gonna make her watch Good Omens.

Back to Hangman. I scrolled the top gun maverick tumblr tag, and from what I saw he’s the fan favorite? (Or character who gets the most x readers) and I don’t really get it? Maybe I’m stopping to conventionally attractive shit but he’s not really that good looking? Idk.

In fact none of the three males leads really do it for me. Tom Cruise is, well, old; I don’t see the appeal of Hangman; and despite Miles Teller’s amazing performance, I still have trouble seeing him as anyone else than Peter from Divergent. So those men are ruined for me. Phoenix, however…

Ok I’ll stop.

This movie is long. It’s really long. I don’t know how long exactly but it just kept on going and going… I thought that the last scene was maverick crashing his plane to save rooster. Then rooster crashes his plane too. Then they steal an F-14 from the base. Then another chase in the air. Then Hangman destroys the ennemies. Then, then, then… I can’t even remember.

Thought they were gonna kill Maverick and they killed Iceman instead and it’s unfair.

All that 80s music but we never heard Take My Breath Away???! Shocked and disappointed.

What is Penny’s purpose in this movie? I’m asking, I don’t wanna be mean, but I didn’t feel like she was necessary. Her impact on the whole film is that she gives maverick parenting tips. That’s all.

Plus she owns a bar, a giant boat, a house close to the sea… how loaded is she wtf?

Maverick has to train the pilots and handle his relationship with Rooster and court that woman. He can’t catch a break.

Funniest scene is in the beginning after crashing the Mach 10 plane, when Maverick goes into the diner and everyone stares at him like he’s an alien 😂 and he asks where he is and that kid says earth🤣 best answer

Best characters in the movie are: phoenix, bob, and rooster

meh-est characters are: hangman and penny

I think that’s all about top gun maverick. If I think anything else I’ll update this post.

[ofhouseadama]

I want to know your thoughts about post-Canon Established Relationship Julian and Garak and the actual stress and obnoxiousness (so I have heard from my spouse 😂) of being the partner of a researcher because a) what is time? science waits for no one b) except oops when you overload yourself and sleep for 48 hours c) apparently the laundry still has to get done d) and apparently it’s very alarming to unfold clothes before putting them into the wash and finding it covered in unknown biohazards

(Support is wonderful and all but sometimes they wish I would just consider the dishes <3)

I think at first they're both working so much that it's not an issue, because as far as Garak is concerned, Julian is working in service to Cardassia and is doing good works for Cardassia. And Garak himself is always called in during an emergency of the government; everyone is pulling double duty and sometimes volunteering for triple duty. So even once they're together and living together and know that they are heading into the great unknown together -- they're both on call for every natural disaster and unexploded ordnance and fraught situation. They don't get the luxury of hunkering down together, or worrying together, or panicking. They have to get up and react and get to work.

But once things start to settle, three or four years in, and Cardassia has a new constitution and a new form of government and has two or three free elections and food is growing and the water is drinkable and the hospitals and clinics are staffed and people are becoming doctors and nurses and hospital administrators again -- when Garak is serving in Ghemor's Senior Council and Julian is working at Corat Damar Memorial Hospital and lecturing as an adjunct professor at some prestigious university that survived the bombing and managing his own research on top of that and medical students and graduate students and fellows and post-docs... they're both still busy, but Garak's work at least has a sense of boundaries. There's a work day, and sure sometimes he's still answering messages at nine at night and taking the odd subspace call when it's 10 AM on Cardassia III and 2 AM for him--but he has staff now. A whole administrative body of staff.

And Julian is still trying to single-handedly cure every disease and conduct every new surgery and keep every dying child alive. He's the doctor of last resort in some circles, and sometimes when he answers a page, he doesn't emerge from the hospital again for several days.

Garak is proud. He really is. He's proud that Julian is renowned and trusted and venerated and celebrated. That he's respected by his colleagues and by Cardassia. That yes, Julian's service as a doctor in a Cardassian hospital that he helped build after the war, brick by brick, makes some things easier politically but--

Proud isn't quite the word for what Garak feels about the fact that Julian saw Cardassia brought to her knees and stayed, even when he wasn't asked. Stayed in the rubble and dust and ashes because he wanted to help, stayed and built a clinic out of a tent, and then a MASH unit out of pre-fab, and bullied Starfleet into assisting with the construction of a new hospital on the bombed-out skeleton of the old one. Garak doesn't know what the right word is. He's still waiting for the catch. So he doesn't complain.

He wants to be selfish with Julian so badly. But Cardassia has always come first. Will always come first. Must always win.

Until the first baby, anyway. Parental leave is sacrosanct on Cardassia, especially on a Cardassia that is desperately trying to re-populate after a billion-plus dead. And then Garak and Julian both run headfirst into their own issues with parenting and fatherhood and family. About what a home is. How a home functions. What they want to do themselves and what to leave to their staff. Cardassian children are expected to come with their parents to work, that duty to Cardassia and duty to the Family are entwined. Which has some uhhhh traumatic implications for Garak, historically, and Julian's father has an interesting career history and very little in regards to a sense of service or duty so that first year of parenthood is just ripping off a long sequence of scabs off a long sequence of poorly-healed wounds.

But eventually, after the fourth child, maybe the fifth, when Garak finally looks up after ten years and realizes that Julian isn't going anywhere, he starts finding new and creative ways to threaten Julian if he doesn't put his dirty clothes in the hamper or may the ancients save him. Sometimes Garak has to threaten to sedate him and kidnap him from the lab when he won't stop trying to fix a problem that won't be fixed in a night. He invites Julian's students to dinner to force Julian to come home.

(Julian's at least pretty good, at least, about making sure he's at least home for dinner and bath time most nights, and makes it to sports games and recitals and performances without fail, because those are also sacrosanct in Cardassian society. Especially after the bombardment.

The kids come to work with him half the time anyway.)

[jackoshadows]

The Arya/Jon post highlighted this bit in the text where Jon assists Bowen Marsh with counts and inventories.

... assisted Maester Aemon with his birds or Bowen Marsh with his counts and inventories - Jon, AGoT

And yet we had a so called asoiaf expert telling me that there was no textual evidence of Jon learning anything about food stores as a steward...

I wouldn’t be so annoyed by things like this if the same person wasn’t also insistently proclaiming Sansa as best at everything because she learned so much by osmosis from any person she spend two seconds with  - despite there actually being nothing in the text that tells us what exactly she learned from Tyrion and the Tyrells and Cersei. Okay, so she mentioned that she would make the people love her instead of fear her. Anything else? Any textual evidence of what kind of administrator she would be? Any deals she she has made with adults to tell us what kind of diplomat she would be? Any laws she has enforced, any justice she has dispersed to tell us whether she will be fair and just or a tyrannical idiot?

Plus, the people she has seen rule as kings are the likes of Robert Baratheon and Joffrey Baratheon. She has seen what not to do. Has she seen what to do? Has she then done it?

Just looking at the characters Jon Snow learned from - Ned Stark, Maester Luwin, Rodrik  Cassel, Maester Aemon, Jeor Mormont, Qhorin Halfhand, Mance Raydar, Donal Noye, Samwell Tarly, Stannis Baratheon - and then thinking that Sansa is more qualified to lead the North? Folks should be honestly embarrassed pretending to be unbiased analysts.

Maester Aemon - The oldest and wisest character in the books - said this of Jon Snow:

“Maester Luwin taught you well Jon Snow. Your mind is as deft as your blade it would seem”

Stannis Baratheon, said this of Jon Snow:

“You haggle like a crone with a codfish”

In book, in story, we have older, experienced characters praising and acknowledging Jon’s intelligence and negotiating skills. Yet, these are so often ignored or discounted.

As an aside, it’s pretty hilarious how much many of these Sansa stans hate Tyrion and disparage his intelligence and yet take his praise of Sansa’s ability to charm as gospel and an indication that she will be The Diplomat ™ 😂. Apparently there are no so called ‘POV traps’ there. POV traps only exist when characters praise Dany or Arya or Jon or when Jon and Arya say something negative about Sansa. 

ASoIaF fandom logic:

Character says something negative about Sansa - Biased and false POV trap. Character says something positive about Sansa - indisputable, absolute truth.

Character says something positive about Dany/Arya/Jon - biased/wrong/POV trap. Character says something negative about Dany/Arya/Jon, usually slavers, Septa Mordane or bigots like Bowen Marsh - it’s the absolute, gospel, indisputable truth about these characters.

Again, the issue is not and never been about what Sansa herself can possibly do in the future and her own skillsets of being charming and well mannered and following the patriarchal status quo rules to the tee and ordering the servants in the Vale to make the bed and clean the rooms and getting SweetRobin to eat his dinner and slowly being able to connect the dots when LF explains his plans to her.

The issue is when people pretend to be these unbiased analysts and then tear down characters like Jon Snow as being an ‘ignorant, privileged rich kid who doesn’t know anything about food stores’ - their own words, and when one then looks at their Sansa essays, it’s nothing but high praise of her exceptional skillsets.

I find pretentious hypocrites to be highly obnoxious. Considering the many posts I have made on this now, folks can guess how annoying I find this  😂. I will stop here... until the next time 😂