#its giving indiana jones

[twirlymarimo]

i finally reached skypeia zoro in my rewatch

[mell0bee]

perhaps i shouldnt say anything bc im not caught up but that imogen design..... hmmmm.

[bleramind]

Tag limit did me dirty lol.

Illuminated presents: THE JAGUAR

This attempt at a pitch was officially REJECTED so I'm posting it here as well!

[silkentine]

All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”

Design Notes and other opining below the cut:

For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.

He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL

If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.

Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL

For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.

I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.

It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the right wrong number

pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6k

summary:

When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.

He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.

dear reader:

this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!

Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!

Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.

Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.

Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.

Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?

[Photo 01.jpg]

Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.

Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.

Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?

Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.

Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.

[Photo 02.jpg]

Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.

You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?

Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.

Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.

Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.

And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.

Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.

Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?

Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.

Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.

Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.

Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?

I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.

Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.

You still being a good girl and following my instructions?

Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?

You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.

Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?

Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.

You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.

I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.

Unknown Number: Like this?

[Photo 03.jpg]

Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.

Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.

Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?

Of course I am, baby.

Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?

Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.

No. He shouldn’t do any of that.

[Photo 04.jpg]

Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.

Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.

Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?

Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.

Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.

Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]

He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.

Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?

Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.

Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.

He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.

He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:

Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx

Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.

It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.

——————

You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.

“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”

You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.

“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.

“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”

“Never say never, babe.”

“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.

“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”

You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.

——————

Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.

Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.

“That’s the coach,” she explains.

Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.

“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.

“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.

You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.

“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.

“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”

Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”

You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”

——————

“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.

He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.

Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.

“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”

“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”

You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”

“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”

“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”

——————

Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.

His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.

“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”

“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.

“Me, too!” Sarah says.

“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.

You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.

Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.

“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.

You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.

A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.

“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.

“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”

The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.

“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.

“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.

“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.

“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.

If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?

——————

As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.

A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.

“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.

“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Bright and early.”

——————

Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.

He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.

Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.

——————

Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.

You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.

One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.

What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.

You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?

You delete the last line again with a groan.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?

You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.

——————

Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?

Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.

She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.

——————

Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.

On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.

“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.

“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“

“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”

“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.

“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.

“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.

“Looking forward to it.”

——————

To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.

“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”

You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”

“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”

A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.

“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”

You blink. “Uh—“

“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.

“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”

You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.

——————

Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.

“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.

“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.

A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.

“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.

“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.

“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”

“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”

“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”

“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”

“Really? You play anything?”

“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”

Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”

The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.

Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”

Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.

“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.

“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”

Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.

“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.

You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.

“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”

“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”

“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”

“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.

“It does,” you confirm.

Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.

“Check, please!”

——————

After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.

He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”

“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”

His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.

“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”

“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”

“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.

“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”

You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.

When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.

“Get in the truck, baby.”

——————

You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.

He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.

You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.

“Bedroom?” He asks.

“End of the hall,” you reply.

Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.

His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.

“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”

“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.

“Teasin��� me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”

Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.

“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”

“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”

“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”

He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.

“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”

“Mhm.”

An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.

“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”

Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”

He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”

You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.

His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.

Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.

“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.

“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”

His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.

Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.

It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.

“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”

“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.

He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.

He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.

“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”

Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You’re staying?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.

——————

1 Year Later

“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.

The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.

“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.

“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.

“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

INDIANA JONES is effortlessly paternal. It’s most apparent when you’re at your worst. Fussy about being hungry means you give him a lot of attitude, but he knows how to get past it almost like he studied your mood swings in school.

“There’s nothing you have that I could possibly want.” you tell him, and he answers your sharp quip with an unconvinced, “Right.” Stepping away to flip a satin cover off a tray. His large hand dwarfs a green apple, taking one simple bite while you hound after him. He eyes you as you wrap your hands around his, guiding the fruit to your mouth as you stand on the tips of your toes to reach. Pliantly, he feeds it to you, watching you mouth on its flesh with pleasured moans of hunger satiated.

Juice drips down your chin as the crisp apple is audibly chewed, and he raises the tray into your view, revealing ripe grapes and a mango. Your eyes sparkle with gratitude, plucking the platter from his grasp and rounding him to retreat to your room. Now that you’re primed, he leisurely follows after you. You’ve got a harsh tongue when you haven’t eaten, so now that that’s quelled, he’s got an ulterior motive to execute.

A thick finger reaches to tap the generous and dazzling chain link of gems around your neck, “Always wear your jewels to bed, princess?” When he’d complimented your outfit earlier, he’d attributed you to royalty, and now he was calling on it again. It makes you smile, laying the tray onto your silk bed. You whirl around, feeling especially coy even though you haven’t caught on to how skillfully he manipulates you.

“Yeah,” You nod. “and nothing else.”

It doesn’t take any clearer an invitation, and Indiana invites himself into your bed. Ankles have a home on his broad shoulders, using those rough hands to pick your hips up, raising them into his bucks. The man’s colossal, slamming into you at reckless pace that you would’ve scolded him for if he were anyone else. You’ve always been treated delicately because you’ll bite the head off of anyone who can’t nurture you the way you insist on, but ol’ Indy’s found a way around it. Or more accurately, his way that plows right through it.

“Where’s the fire now, huh, princess? Miss it when you were feisty.” Smug and husky from effort, that cruel statement shoots lightning up your spine, arching your back off the mattress as you clutch onto the sheets.

“Oh, Indy.” you sigh, sloppy wet sounds filling the room as the biggest cock you’ve ever taken bullies your insides. “Didn’t mean to,” you plead, “I know I can be a lot to… ah! Handle.”

“I’ll say. All that pretty head is concerned with is herself, ain’t that right, honey?”

The twist in your face deepens as he straightens on his knees, taking you with him and his tip hits a new angle. Your legs stick straight up, an arm securing you around the thighs as he fucks your elevated hole. Squeals of pleasure rip from your throat.

“Never met a girl so self-centered. Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re in good hands. Gonna screw that right outta you.”

[evillesbianvillain]

The thing with Veilguard, is that a lot of people who didn't like the videogame put all the blame on EA becuase the development was rushed and messy and some idiot had the idea to make it a multiplayer MOBA game or whatever the fuck it was going on and that can excuse some of the stuff going on in Veilguard:

everybody calling you Rook, a nickname a dwarf youve known for a month gave you, instead of your surname, especially ridicolous if you are a Grey Warden, you know, a member of a paramilitary order, and your boss calls you that. How certain factions, especially the Lords of Fortune but also the Mourn Watchers and Veil Jumpers are underdeveloped (but according to John Epler they decided to make less sidequests to focus better on a few of them and they ended up just being fetch quests or "kill these guys" for the most). Why you can't directly talk to your companions and ask them questions but have to stalk them through the lighthouse and hope they reveal something of themselves to your other companions (again, John Epler said this was a purpose choice they made and its a stupid one but I want to break a spear and say that it was probably because they didn't have the time to code or write every direct dialogue with Rook but I don't really know how these things work). Not being able to visit Minrathous.

But so much of it is an issue that started in the writing and developer room.

You cannot roleplay in the role playing game. Scratch the "there are not serious consequences of your action" part, we can file that under rushed development if we want to be nice. But you can only play as a nice, well meaning, always slightly sarcastic heroic Rook and that was a deliberate choice. You're basically only playing as purple Hawke. I don't want to play as purple Hawke. For an instance, I chose - obviously - the Grey Warden backstory (which I hated, all the backstories are the same, heroic Rook winning against a foe but disobeying orders and being punished by the mean higher ups) and when you do the mirror scene I chose the dialogue option that said "I have been impulsive when I saved that village and could've made things worse", but then when I'm talking to the first Warden and he reprimends me I can ONLY defend my actions and not agree with him or apologize for them. I wanted to play as a stern warden, respectful of the order and its authority, but the game doesn't let me do that.

The whitewashing of the narrative. Every faction (except the Grey Wardens) is super duper nice, they are all freedom fighters with XXI century politics. All the leaders of every faction believe you at face values about Super Evil Elven Gods and are willing to give you their help to slay them (except the Grey Wardens). All the factions are stripped of any nuance or of the infamous Bioware's grey morality (except the Grey Wardens, as the game, at any step, wants to reming you how stupidly secretive, kinda cultist-y and fucked up they are and how that is not a Good Thing). Especially annoying with the Crows, the local assassin's group of Antiva that is renowned for buying desinfranchised kids and torture them to make them the perfect assassins, and the Lords of Fortune, who are now the anti Indiana Jones of Thedas (but still tomb jackasses).

The whitewashing, or purposeful ignoring, of social conflict in Thedas. This game is set up partly in Tevinter and specifically in a district of Minrathous, but we not once encounter the slavery that the Imperium is built on, or racism against elves and qunari. And don't tell me "there are no slaves because Dock Town is a poor district of Minrathous", that is not how empires built on slave labour work, especially considering that Tevinter has always been based on the Roman Empire. Who do you think loads and unloads the cargo ships that dock there? You think slaves are only kept in the house and occasionally used for blood magic rituals? Not to mention that the faction for Dock Town is the Shadow Dragons, whos main work is freeing slaves, but not once we do a quest that revolves around that. And it's funny that they abandoned the entire issue with the mages and the Chantry "because we are in North Thedas" when the Chantry is a egemonical religion in Thedas. Zevran tells us that templars in Antiva guard mages like "jealous husbands", the Circle of Mages of Rivain was destroyed because they accused women there or summoning demons and the Anderfells are known for having the most pious followers of the Chantry in Thedas. I understand not making the mage issue a focus like it has been for the past three games, but to just dropt it like that is ridicolous. They didn't even do anything with the Tevinter Chantry and the Black Divine, something, I think, everybody was curious about. Ah but don't worry! We have the main dalish companion apologize 3000 times because the elves are at fault for everything going on in the world.

The characters are all shallow. There are very little important NPCs in this game and you can't directly talk to any of them if not during specific cutscenes during the story. John Epler (it's always him or Weekes lmao) said they wanted to avoid meaningless cameos but then they threw in the game characters from other games like Morrigan, Dorian, Isabela, Maevaris who was actually not from a game, but a comic, so I would've liked to know more about her, and doesn't let you interact in any way with them. Varric, for the love of god, there is no way for someone who is playing Dragon Age for the first time to give a shit about this guy. Who are these people. What do they want. Who are the leaders of these factions. The companions as well. You cannot talk to them but have to hope they will say something about themselves during random party banters in the Lighthouse and then they will have crafted cutscenes for the stupidest shit like Lucanis making Harding drink coffee. You know how some people dislike Varric, Garrus and Liara because the games want you to like them? This is what it feels with all the companions, and the forced found family is so on the nose it becomes unbearing. The romances are underwhelming, or so I am told by everyone. Davrin, who is in my opinion the best character in this game, has most of his character and quest revolving around a fucking rat with wings and all the stuff about his relationship with the dalish or wardens comes up in random party banters, again, instead of him telling me directly about it. The only relationship between companions that I found slightly compelling is between Davrin and Lucanis because they are the ONLY characters with an actual conflict going on, every other conflict is resolved immediately either by Rook stepping up and going "stop fightiiiiing why are you fightiiiiiing" or by the constrast being actually a misunderstanding, hey isn't it nice how every one of our companions are super duper nice guys who can do no wrong (like Bellara and Taash). Do you miss Mordin Solus? I know I do.

Connected to the characters issue, why the hell is the approval/disapproval system even a thing? It's impossible to lose approval from characters in this game, while they'll approve literally you standing in their vicinity. I've never worked SO HARD to try and lose approval with my companions, and it's impossible. Just, throw it away at this point, you have already implemented another system (the bond one) and are trying to work on a mass effect model, so atp just do that.

The villains oh my fucking god. This ties with the whitewashing of every good faction I have to ally with, as all the villains are super evil "bullies" with nothing else going on behind them. Maybe the only villain with something different going on is Isseiya, but all the others are faceless, corrupted evil hordes to be mowed down with Super Duper Evil leaders that have nothing going on if not a desire for Power and Conquest? Do you remember when Gereon Alexius was a desperate father who would've done everything to save his son from the Blight? Do you remember when Calpernia was an ex slave with a dream of revitalizing the Imperium by uplifting the slaves as citizens? Do you remember Meredith and the Arishok? Do you remember Loghain?? And like every side or personal quest villain/antagonist, the Evanuris are ONLY driven by power and power and power and they are so evil because they want power more power still power.

The missing/ignored plot threads. They hinted at us for years about the upcoming Tevinter/Qunari war and that went nowhere. What about the mentioned crisis/internal war/split between the Grey Wardens? Nothing. Where are Fen'hare's agents? Apparently they left Solas' side because he was a meanie and we know that because of a reddit AMA. The awakened darkspawns? Darkspawns now are officially a mindless horde and [insert GRRM piece on orc genocide] so don't worry about it.

They want a new slate in case they ever get to work on another Dragon Age in the future, and that's so obvious from certain narrative choice they made in the game, all happening far far away from us and that we know throw some fucking letters the Inquisitor sends to us and the most glaring one is the complete destruction of Southern Thedas, especially Ferelden.

The combat is... polarizing for me. On one hand, it is a mildly enjoyable action combat, and when you get over the heartbreak of never being able to build a mage like in Origins and having some tactic going on, it is fine, it is flashy enough to be enjoyable at least. But the enemy variety is terrible, the bosses are reused to hell and back and on top of that they are for the most normal enemies that are given a boss health bar (if i think about it, im pretty sure there is only one unique boss ive met so far, the archdemon, and it's such a pathetic boss fight)

The art direction. While I love, and I mean LOVE, the character design for your companions and whenever I look at them I get mad because such good design... wasted for these characters and this game. I do not like the art direction. I hate how everything has been scifi-ed, the eluvians now have rgb lights and they look like twitch streamers PCs or prothean artifacts, Bellara's magical gloves are fucking nanomachines and she literally works her magic like a mechanic. Not to mention the architecture and the neon signs in Dock Town. Most of the armors are ugly as hell and I want to talk with whoever designed the Lords of Fortune armors.

This scifi-cation carries out in the soundtrack as well, with a subpar score from Hans Zimmer.

I understand that it's not possible to work around every single choice made in the past three games, but some stuff is too important to just, leave it alone. Northern Thedas is still in Thedas and it's politically connected to it. Who the Divine is should be important, if my warden has died should matter, if Morrigan had a child should matter. They don't even make her mention the hero of ferelden EVER, whenever people talk about her they say she was a witch of the wilds and then worked with the Inquisition. ISN'T THERE A BIG GAP IN YOUR RESUME, MORRIGAN? Shouldn't a Grey Warden Blackwall be at Weisshaupt/Hossberg? But then, even the choices they have you make at the start regarding your Inquisitor are red herrings, the only thing the game cares about is wether your Lavellan romances Solas or not.

This game thinks we're stupid. I am constantly explained, over and over again what is going on. I am playing this game. I just saw the scene that has been recapped by Varric and then recapped by a text and then recapped by the characters chilling around a table commenting the scene. Not to mention all the time Rook and the companions say "We need to be in our best mind place to win this fight, we need to focus on ourselves, we need to think about ourselves first and then we can focus on the Evil Elven Gods" which is a little less on the nose way to say "do our personal quests". Insanely PG13 game.

Therapy speak.

And I think I'm done, at least for now. I have a lot of other issues but most of them are nitpicky and it's just me being annoying.

[junipers-archive]

spence x clingy!reader where reader just loses it and kisses him then it gets a little ✨spicy✨ and some sort of makeout scene but no smut if that makes sense tysm bae <33

ah ofc ofc, thanks for the request, and yw bae <3

Today is Saturday's are for Spencer :) request an au!

Spencer couldn't deny that he adored how clingy you were, always beside him offering food, cuddles, kisses, anything he could ever possibly need. He like being doted on, and he tried to return the favor when he could.

You were currently seated on his lap, legs parted on each side of his hips as he read his book over your shoulder. It was often you ended up in this position, due to your constant need for physical touch.

"Spencer." you pout your pink lips as you withdraw your head off his shoulder. He hums, still absorbed in the novel he's reading. "Spencer." you were getting impatient having already tried to get his attention multiple times before.

Most likely sensing this agitation he finally puts his book down, marking his page by bending the corner. "Yes, baby?"

You smile at the nickname, "Tell me 'bout your book." You needed a distraction, and he was the best at giving you something to be distracted by, whether that was his adorable face or his eloquent words.

He smiles delightfully, beginning to explain his reading material while simultaneously drawing soothing circles at your waist.

"Well its a pretty interesting story really, its about this archeologists who go out to Egypt and find these hieroglyphics within one of the ancient pyramids. Its based on a true story, though told through a more animated version, giving a resemblance of an Indiana Jones movie. But not the new re-makes, I'm talking the originals- "

You press your lips to his, hard and full of passion, sliding your tongue into his mouth as he gasps in surprise. But you can't help it, something happens to you when he goes on his rambles. Somehow, you don't know how its possible but he becomes even more handsome when he talks.

"Mmhp." he moans into your mouth as you slide your fingers through his messy hair, taking pleasure as he returns your eager kiss.

You come up for air every once and a while, as he explains in between the plot of his book, and you similarly ask more follow up questions.

Happily, you stay like that, enjoying each others small gasps and whines as you essentially make out like lovesick teenagers while continuously carrying out a conversation. When you finally imprint your lipgloss onto his lips, you're satisfied, pulling back to take a look at your work.

Once he catches his breath fully he speaks, "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"f'being you." you answer without hesitation, moving in to peck his swollen lips once more. Sinking into his arms you lose track of time as the afternoon passes you by. Spencer however resumes his reading with a huff of exasperation at your antics, shaking his head and hugging you tighter.

[too-many-blorbos]

Remember my "turn your blorbo into a mythical being" poll? Get ready for the sequel:

Clarifications below:

-"Involuntary Beast Form" means 1) turning into an animal under certain conditions, and 2) losing human cognition. Examples include were-creatures and the curse from Ladyhawke

"Monstrous Appearance" could include turning into animals IF they retain human intelligence. Examples include Brother Bear, Frog Princess, and Beast from "Beauty and the Beast"

-"Speech Constraints" means limits on what you can say. Examples include "can only speak the truth," "can only speak in rhyme," and even "cannot speak aloud at all" like in Little Mermaid.

-"Gradual Degradation" is something that spreads across the body over time and will eventually be lethal, or as good as lethal. Examples include mummy rot or slow zombification

-"Confined/Exiled" is like, "you can never enter you home again," or "you can never leave this glade again." It is distinct from being trapped in an object, because you're still able to interact with the regular world, just in a smaller space. "Indiana Jones Grail Knight" as opposed to "Genie in a Lamp"

-"Cursed Loved Ones" can be any curse, but it has to happen to the blorbo's loved ones instead of to them specifically. Assume, for the purposes of this poll, that your blorbo has at least one person this curse applies too. Same for killing a loved one.

-Yes, vampirism counts as its own curse

[evil-peanut-butter-addict-sam]

@shelbygraces

shut your bubble gum dumb dumb skin tone chicken bone google chrome no homo flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full blown monochrome student loan indiana jones over grown flint stone X and Y Chromosome friend zome sylvester stalone sierra leone auto zone friend zone professionally seen silver patrone big headed ASS UP You and your splotchy hair dye you can't ever choose what color you want, like make up your mind, lovejoys music is better then what you will ever make because you have made NOTHING against them you have been on YouTube for what over 10 years and almost 20 years? And your just now getting 100,00? Sad that just shows that your own 'supporters' aren't even supporting you and just sending absolute shit on us. For God's sakeI had a BLOODY TAMPON tell me to kms all because I had a Wilbur Soot costume you need to learn to control your subs everyone else can why can't you? With how far apart your eyes are I would be way to long to get from one eye to the other I would have to get a pit stop on your nose before anything, your fashion style is practically equivalent to a 7 year old girls closet. The only reason why they replace William with you in QSMP is because you would have never made it when everyone else got a invite, I'm surprised you even got the amount of support you have gotten because you weren't even known even after the relationship with Wilbur you only started getting your fame is because your a selfish little bitch that doesn't know when to stfu. On the selfishness side of you why didn't you give your fans the merch you absolutely promised them? Was it because you where too small of a creator even then to collaborate with someone? "I'd settle for a gun-" Yeah Wilbur we all would settle for the gun them having to hear her loud annoying voice, Shelby you wanted to say it's weird to be friends with minors because Wilbur was friends with tubbo and Tom when they were kids still but your in your early 30S AND FRIENDS WITH AIMSEY WHEN SHE WAS A MINOR you hypocrite "He had a ant infestation" Oh? Now did he? I would like proof on that. Or if I'm gonna be honest you probably don't even have proof like EVERYTHING ELSE and if you did have proof you would have showed it in the first stream. Wil said that he has many different pieces of proof showing you consented but he's not showing them for YOUR OWN PRIVACY AND SAFETY. " hello! My name is Shubble and welcome bsck to my channel" YOU SOUND LIKE STITCH IN YOUR INTROS WTF?? AND YOUR INTRO VOICE LITERALLY HASNT CHANGED IN THE PAST SIX DAMN YEARS? GET CREATIVE MAKE SOMETHING NEW. "I have alot of opinions about sounds in minecraft, what are the best sounds, what are the worst sounds" 1. Damn right you have opinions i think its obvious with the amount of time you have come out with almost every single popular ex of yours and there's suddenly something that went wrong in every damn one. 2 you are the worst sound not just on minecraft but in mankind. 3 William gold has the most iconic and funny ass minecraft sounds. "Just another thrift hall!" Why? Because you can't afford full priced clothing? "I will not be dying mu hair anymore" Then why the hell is your hair orange rn? Me and MULTIPLE people thought you weren't gonna say anything about ILGWIS because the song it literally directed towards how shitty you are/had been but NO you had the clout Shelby, you had to piss people off like me. "Stream my stream instead" Yeah that's all we can do because one again you have no music to stream. Fuck you Shelby, you clout chasing bitch.

VICTIM MORTALITY AND FREEDOM OF SPEECH

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: september 2024

I'm turning in the reading roundup a little later than usual, but booooy not for lack of enthusiasm! September was such an interesting month for books, not least of all because you'll notice that things take a spooky turn towards the end of the month. in the name of whimsy I decided that October would be the perfect time to go on a themed reading kick and read through everything vaguely spooky, scary, or horror-related on my TBR, and then I thought, hey, why wait? Halloween is a state of mind, and I want to get spooked.

(have I been spooked yet? well... eh. but there's still time!)

my point being, if you want some creepy recs, hang tight because the October reading roundup is going to be great for you. in the meantime, here's what I read in September:

My Nemesis (Charmaine Craig, 2023) - cannot recommend this brief novel enough if you like very stylized prose about very insufferable people. Craig's protagonist is a memoirist who narrates her tale of woe exactly like she's writing a personal essay that's going to do numbers on twitter, intimate from a detached and analytical distance and giving the strong impression of a person who's made a living being intensely self-obsessed and can't quite manage to turn it off. it's a fascinating approach to a story about an emotionally overwhelming friendship destroying two marriages and ending in a woman's death, all without any actual adultery ever occurring. the narrator is consciously self-conscious, unreliable in the subtle and shifty way of someone trying to take exactly enough culpability to avoid being assigned more. it's a heavily interior novel, but Craig managed to keep me gasping with surprise here and there - the stomach-twisting reveal of why the narrator is actually telling her story, for one, as well as the revelation of the work within the novel that shares its name. if you like a tightly crafted character exercise, you're going to eat this up.

Raiders of the Lost Heart (Jo Segura, 2023) - this was the romance novel picked out via poll over on my patreon for September, and if I may be honest I was NOT excited! to my mind it was the dud of the group, the one amongst the four possibilities that I was most dreading. the garish cover, improbable plot summary, and blatant Indiana Jones of it all (the male love interest is literally named Ford) was a tremendous turn off, and you know what? I was wrong for that. Raiders ended up being one of the better romance novels I've read this year, and not JUST because I've been reading an endless parade of stinkers. the characters are largely free of manufactured drama and are instead believably and sympathetically rendered, with the female lead Corrie being a particular knockout; I would love to be her friend. the plot isn't nearly as cartoonish as the synopsis on the back of the book would have you believe, or at least most of it isn't; the silliness doesn't arrive until almost the very end, when Segura decides she needs some action movie stakes in here ASAP. and while the prose wasn't totally free of the genre's worst bullshit (stop reminding me that Ford's eyes are emerald, I beg), it was for the most part refreshingly no-nonsense. I wasn't even a chapter into this book when I found myself realizing I might really like it, and as of right now it's looking to claim the title of my favorite romance of 2024 in a landslide victory. having said that someone should be in thought crime prison for titling the sequel "Temple of Swoon."

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 11 (Ryoko Kui, trans. Taylor Engel, 2022) - man you guys Dungeon Meshi is so fucking good. what the fuck. what the hell. it's so genuinely insane that Kui is still able to weave in elements of humor that feel so organic and natural to the characters at this absolutely dire point of the game, when all of my faves are actively in so much danger - largely FROM EACH OTHER - that I'm eating my fingers. christ. some of my students who are in an LGBT book club did Legends and Lattes last month and I just kept wanting to ask if anyone had read Dungeon Meshi for, you know, a very D&D-flavored story that's actually intensely interested in dissecting the tropes of the genre alongside race and class and xenophobia and the social rules of an adventurer heavy world but god. I couldn't. because it's not gay. like Senshi I just want to nourish the youngsters but I can't because it's not gay. please everyone for the love of god just read Dungeon Meshi.

The Most (Jessica Anthony, 2024) - I'm a simple man, and I added this tiny novel to my TBR based on a blurb that really gave me nothing but "a 60s housewife gets in the apartment complex's pool and refuses to get out and it freaks her husband right out." god forbid women do anything, right? anyway, at risk of showing my whole ass I think this is exactly the kind of "disaffected adultery and divorce" book that a lot of tumblr users claim to hate, and I fucking loved it. Anthony is a brilliantly sharp writer who paces her microcosmic drama perfectly, revealing everything at just the right moment like a practiced tour guide showing us around the shadowy corners of an aggressively ordinary marriage. I love adultery and I think this book in particular should be taught in writing courses. sue me.

Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir (Akwaeke Emezi, 2021) - I think this year I've reread more books than I have any other year of my adult life, and I'm so glad that I took time to revisit Emezi's memoir. it's genuinely like nothing else I've ever read, one of the boldest and bravest things I've ever read. Emezi's account of godhood, of coming to understand themself as a deity trapped in flesh, is absolutely unwavering, completely grounded in their certainty of their truth and proceeding from there without ever worrying about persuading others to believe them. Emezi is a storyteller's storyteller, and their story doesn't need anyone's approval. but while it can be challenging, I wouldn't call the book confrontational. quite the opposite; in many places it's achingly vulnerable, as Emezi guides you through an unabashed tour of the very worst of their heartbreak, trauma, and alienation, and the times they've nearly succeeded in taking their own life. but god, please don't think this memoir is unrelenting misery. Emezi also speaks so, SO powerfully of opulence, of love, of the dedication to their artistry ad unabashed acknowledgement that they are a peerless talent. Emezi talks about magic of writing in a way that makes me feel like I'm being engulfed in golden-white flames; they make me want to transform myself into the artist I want to be. once again: I am an Emezi stan first and a person second forever.

The Beginning and End of Rape: Confronting Sexual Violence in Native America (Sarah Deer, 2015) - listen, I'll be straight up with you: unless you're exorbitantly interested in rape law, alternatives to carceral "justice," and legalese, this is going to be a very dry read, and there are not enough narrative segments to make up for that. for my money, Deer provides a thorough overview of the difficulties faced by American tribal nations in exercising legal power to prosecute and punish cases of sexual violence, despite the staggering levels of violence experienced by women in many Native communities. I really admired the intensely tempered view that Deer (a member of the Mvskokoe nation) brings to her work, discussing the history of Native approaches to sexual violence without pretending precolonial North America was a feminist utopia and offering thoughtful criticism of proposed substitutions to imprisonment. while the rape laws of any one of the 574 federally recognized tribes in the occupied lands of the United States could be a book on its own and Deer is constrained by the need to cover as much territory as she can in the broadest strokes possible, this is a solid primer to an ongoing social, spiritual, and legal issue that too rarely receives attention outside of Native communities.

Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke and Other Misfortunes (Erica LaRocca, 2022) - straight up I was only trying to read Things Have Gotten worse, LaRocca's somewhat infamous story of a lesbian relationship that goes extremely wrong extremely fast, but the only copy available through my library system came with two more of his short stories (the aforementioned Other Misfortunes). I'm going to save time on the two extra stories: one is an incomprehensible exercise in religious trauma and I did not like it, and the other one was silly because I, personally, simply would not get so trapped in a sense of social obligation that I let my neighbor do stupid riddles to be until I was in a guillotine. rip to that guy but I'm different. anyway, back to the star of the show. I made the mistake of browsing some other people's thoughts on Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke and encountered a truly dizzying number of people whose takeaway seems to be that it's bad not for any stylistic reason but because it depicts two lesbians being in a relationship that's deranged and unhealthy, to which I say you should probably go watch Stephen Universe or something instead of looking for #goodrep in the horror short stories. christ. for my money, Things Have Gotten Worse is messy in the most delicious way, absolutely bonkers from start to finish. escalates pretty much instantly and refuses to let up for truly even a second. cannot believe the predatory mommy dom turns out to be the reasonable one in this dynamic, that one threw me for a loop. it's not incredible but god was I entertained.

Fledgling (Octavia E. Butler, 2005) - another reread, revisiting some of my favorite little freak vampires for the spooky season! although, honestly, the most spooky scary thing about Butler's vampires is probably that vampires look like an Aryan cult and some of them are turbo racist while the other ones insist that it's totally 100% impossible for vampires to be racist and the fact that this gets quite a lot of people killed, something that I'm sure is just a weird coincidence and not any kind of commentary that Butler was making on anything at all. what else is there to say? this is one of Butler's most elaborate explorations of inverted power dynamics, dropping codependent symbiotic sexy vampire polycule cults smack in the middle of the 21st century United States instead of on an alien planet or an apocalyptic wasteland just to really drive home how crazy this shit it. and it's delicious! I love it! what a deliciously different interpretation of vampirism. imagine the utopia we'd be living in if this was the vampire novel that had gotten big in 2005 instead of Twilight.

The Low, Low Woods (Carmen Maria Machado, Dani, and Tamra Bonvillain, 2020) - first I remembered that there are horror comics that I can include in my Octoberish reading, and then I remembered that creepy queen Carmen Maria Machado has published one with DC Comics' Black Label. The Low, Low Woods follows dirtbag teen lesbians Octavia and El in the burnt out coal mining town of Shudder to Think, a town where everyone knows that something's not quite right but no one can seem to leave. the story begins with El and Octavia waking up in a movie theater with no memory of a movie, realizing that they've lost time. the ensuing investigation takes them deep into the town's troubled history, and forces them to realize it's not just the supernatural preying on the town. I love creepy Appalachia and would definitely recommend this for any Old Gods of Appalachia fans, and I will say that so far this is the only one of the spooky reads to really get under my skin and give me a full-body shiver due to the sheer overwhelming awfulness of the implications Machado raises with the revelations in her story. I'm not usually one for trigger warnings in my little roundups, but I cannot emphasize enough that if you have a hard time reading about sexual violence, you'll probably want to skip this one.

The Icarus Girl (Helen Oyeyemi, 2005) - I've been meaning to get into Oyeyemi's large body of work (in part because Akwaeke Emezi speaks quite highly of her) and where better to start than with her debut novel? and why not now, since it was tagged as horror? ultimately I'd concede that the book is creepy but don't know if I'd quite consider myself horrified, and that's completely fine since it's an astonishing piece of prose regardless. writing a believable eight year old narrator of an adult novel is a tricky thing, but Oyeyemi pulls it off beautifully with protagonist Jessamy, effortlessly selling her as an insightful, anxious, and intelligent girl who's still utterly believable as a child. the Icarus Girl revels in the same kind of "powerless child" horror as Gaiman's Ocean at the End of the Lane, following the lonely Jessamy as she initially is befriended and then tormented by a mysterious and powerful little girl that she meets while visiting her mother's family in Nigeria. as her new friends gets increasingly malevolent and out of control, Jess struggles to account for the damage and to be taken seriously by her parents when she tries to explain what's wrong. Oyeyemi apparently wrote this book when she was only a teenager, and if she's been leveling up her craft with each subsequent novel then I have a lot of look forward to.

[r3medialch8os]

since it is clear to all my favorite episode is my namesake i'm going to outline some of my favorite things about remedial chaos theory.

everything leading up to the Darkest Timeline scenario. before we get to the darkest timeline, several time bombs are planted. we as an audience gradually learn about these but the characters' knowledge of them resets with every new timeline. for one, annie's gun is only adressed in the first timeline. then, in the second timeline when shirley storms out, we become aware of the fact that when the door is slammed hard enough, the rolling boulder model is triggered. further, we learn about britta smoking, pierce bringing alcohol, and the troll doll and its effect on troy. all of these things come to a head in the darkest timeline. troy leaves hastily because he doesn't want to miss anything therefore slamming the door, which triggers the indiana jones model. then the rest follows. it's genius because the chaos was unpredictable but as the audience we recognize all the elements that make it that way.

in every timeline, pierce makes a joke involving eartha kitt. the comedy of it is that every time, the segway he employs is more outlandish. it seems like a gag until jeff's timeline comes up. when jeff leaves to get the pizza, pierce in fact does not make the joke, showing us he was doing it to impress jeff the whole time, offering character insight.

jeff hits his head on the ceiling fan in every timeline. again, it seems random, until at the end annie deems it as 'karma'. we realize then, that jeff hitting his head throughout all the timelines was a karmic punishment this whole time, because he was being unfaithful in his pizza-getter divising system which governed the timelines in the first place.

there is a lot to be said about the implications about what happens when a certain group member leaves. troy's leaving causing the darkest timeline has been thoroughly discussed. what i find most interesting about this particular fact is that the timelines are not real, or so they are denoted. it is emphasized over and over again that abed is the one making up the timelines. therefore we can assume his subjective opinion influences the outcomes of the timelines. we could even assume that the whole episode takes place in his brain. it gives a lot of weight to the significance of troy leaving. in any case, it's not just that particular timeline that's interesting on this front.

when abed leaves to get the pizza, every pairing in the study group has some form of a heart-to-heart and then a disastrous outcome of that very moment resulting into a fight. they go through emotional rollercoasters, maybe more so than they have all episode. it is interesting to note that abed's departure allows the study group to access their emotions more freely, whether they be positive or more negative. it's intriguing how abed assuages these intense emotions, and how these kinds of emotional confrontations would have never happened with his being there.

the timeline where jeff leaves is also fasinating as it clearly illustrates how the group will still have fun without jeff, maybe even more so when he's gone. this is also shown in s03ep01 but becomes even clearer here. the group becomes more carefree, cheery. 

the prime timeline, the one where jeff gets the pizza, is when abed catches the die. this scene is hilarious because none of the study group members have experienced the timeline scenarios as we the audience have because they are in fact living their lives in the timeline as is considered normal. this is what makes it extra funny that they indulge abed in his lengthy verbose speech. they really like each other a lot. it's cool.

anyways, this episode is my very favorite ever and i could talk about it forever. 

[noforkingclue]

Heyyy, I really hope I'm not being a bother. If it's okay may I please request an Indiana Jones x reader where he and the reader are working together to get an artifact before the bad guys but while they're exploring the location of the artifact the reader gets possessed by an entity protecting the item and tests him to see if he is worthy of the item and in doing so release the reader. I hope you have a great day

You're never a bother! I've recently re-watched the Indiana Jones films and I forgot just how much I love them!

So thank you so much for requesting this :D

Title: The Truth

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites spngingerbread21,  @layazul,  @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

Indy had seen a lot of strange shit in his time but this, well, this was definitely something completely different. The being in front of him stretched and cracked its neck. The sound of crunching bones followed and it rolled its shoulders back and stood up straight.

“It’s been too long since I inhabited a body.”

It looked like you.

It sounded like you.

But it wasn’t you.

“Let y/n go.” Indy said through clenched teeth

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why not.”

The being walked round the room, trailing a finger along the wall. ‘You’ looked down at your finger and grimaced.

“I see they forgot about me,” it sighed, “so much for eternal devotion.”

“Y/n believed in you. Why do you think we’re here.”

“Who?”

“Y/n L/n. The person whose body you’re inhabiting.”

“Oh,” ‘you’ looked down at your body, “it is a nice body. It’ll do me-”

“Give it back to its owner.”

“- for now,” ‘you’ finished sharply, “I don’t like being interrupted. Surely this… y/n would’ve told you that. After all, she is the expert in my legend.”

‘You’ sighed and spun around on your heels. The being looked down in disgust and picked at your skirt.

“I don’t think much of the clothes though,” it said, “I’ve clearly been away for far too long.”

“Look, just give y/n back and we’ll be on our way.”

‘You’ looked over with a raised eyebrow. You could never do that yourself and seeing you do that made Indy feel slightly uneasy.

“Alright, I’ll give her back-”

“Fantastic.”

“What did I tell you about interrupting? Not going to say anything? Good. I’ll give her back if you pass my test.”

“Your test? What is this test?”

“We already started it.”

The being giggled and clapped your hands. Indy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was probably best not to piss off a temperamental and clearly childish almost God-like being. Best to play along.

“So,” you hopped up the altar and kicked your legs, “why do you want her back.”

“Because she’s my friend.”

“Just a friend?”

“Yes.”

“She doesn’t think so.”

Indy, who had taken to pacing, paused. He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You’ had crossed your legs and was smirking at him. He didn’t like seeing that look on your face.

“What do you mean?” he asked

“I can see all her thoughts,” it said, “her history. Everything she worked towards and you right at the centre. Do you want to know what she thinks about you? How she really feels about you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Indy had been working with you for so long and that was the one question he couldn’t find the answer for. Usually he wouldn’t hesitate in going after someone but with you it was different. In the past he could always tell if someone reciprocated his feelings but with you he couldn’t tell. He didn’t want to ruin things with someone he worked so closely with. Working with you in the museum would be awkward if you did reject him.

Yes, he wanted to know. He wanted to know your feelings. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said,

“No.”

“No?”

The being was surprised.

“That isn’t for you to tell.”

“Hmm,” the being hopped off and walked slowly towards him, “you surprise me Doctor Jones. Very well, you can have your y/n back. I look forward to seeing your progress.”

The being gave him one last smile before your body shuddered. Your eyelids fluttered and you frowned.

“Jones?” you asked, “What- woah!”

You stumbled forward and Indy caught you just before you hit the floor. His grip on you tightened and he pressed his lips against the top of your head.

“Rest,” he said softly, “just rest.”

“But the-”

“Shh, try not to think about that right now.”

He sunk to the floor and half pulled you into his lap. You rested your head against his chest as Indy stroked the back of your head.

“Y/n.” he said eventually

“Yeah.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

[that-one-xachster]

Megumi x Childhood Bestie!Reader Hcs part two

ok I'm continuing this lmfao

so lets get to the part after go/joe kidnaps itadori

and you're just chilling with megumi in his room questioning all life choices

and he's questioning life itself

"crabs probably think fish can fly"

"...what did you eat today"

"tuna mayo"

"istg if you pull the Inumaki crap-"

"bean bags are boneless sofas"

"wHaT"

"...I want a beanbag."

*audibly sighs*

so yeah very fun

and you have a sleepover with him bc like

why not

and drama

so let's say todays that very special once in a lifetime day that you fall asleep INSTANTLY

and like just boom "I'm tired" you're knocked out

and megumi's just there like "gurl??"

my bro is absolutely done cause you're like taking up most of his bed

and personal space

give the man a break 😔✋

so he tries shoving you a lil to the side

keyword: tries

but you're a stubborn person so you don't budge

also you're gripping the bed for dear life in your sLEEP-

you haven't grown out of it lmao

megumi pulls his iconic face and is just

absolutely done at this point

so-

he's known you since childhood anyway right

and you're asleep right

right

so you won't mind if he just plops on top of you and cuddle-spoons you while your sleeping to create space right 😊

just to create space

you don't mind even when you're awake but megumi doesn't know that-

so yes he lies on top of you- wraps an arm around your waist- and spoons you while he falls asleep-

im giggling squealing kicking my feet writing this don't mind me

so yes he's still spooning you while you're asleep-

and in the morning he wakes up first ehe-

bc sleep = none or sleep = all

"all's well thats well for me"

iykyk

but you're still sleeping

and its like 7:30 am

its too early for this shit

so he just stays in bed cuddling you

and boom half an hour later you wake up

but you pretend to be sleeping heh

why

plot

so you two are technically cuddling rn and then my bro realizes that your awake-

and hes like

"oh good morning"

yeah we're totally gonna gaslight

"good morning to you too"

we're gonna keep up the gaslighting

so you turn around and you're facing megumi and you're like what time is it he's like 8:30 am or sum

so you both get up bleh the boring stuff

AND THIS IS THE MOMENT WHERE ITADORI IS GETTING SHOWN HIS ROOM SO-

YOU SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING

so then megumi walks out of the room but you're still inside cause why not

and then itadori and megumi have some bro talk and you just pop up behind megumi-

itadori sHRIEKS

gojos like 'did u two have a sleepover 😼'

and megumi ofc is like 'why do you care'

and itadori goes-

GASPPP ARE YOU TWO DATING???

the way your faces heat up so fast

FACES

WITH AN S

PLURAL

MEGUMI'S BLUSHING TOO

and hes like 'what the f no i'm not dating this idiot here'

you're like 'i wish 😔'

tHE WAY HE BLUSHES HARDER

no this does not go unnoticed by gojo and he whips out his phone faster than lightning mcqueen and bombards him with pictures

'smile for the camera megumi~'

'boy if you don't shut your skin tone chicken bone google chrome no home flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full blown monochrome student loan Indiana jones overgrown flintstone x and Y chromosome hormone friend zone Sylvester Stallone Sierra loan autozone professionally seen silver patrone head ass up-'

yes I had to

anyway y'all gotta go pick up the other first year aka nobara

and you're like

"OOH OOH GOJO SENSEI BOY OR GIRL"

"hehe you'll see"

so you make all of them speed to wherever the hell yer picking her up

idt I mentioned you slept in the car and your head was on megumis shoulder eheh

itadori kept teasing him and won't let him live it down fr

so yk nobara and her iconic scene

you have no shame

and you drink your respect women juice

im trying to make this gender neutral 😭

you see the uniform and you're cheering her on so much like

"WOO YEAHHH- PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE YOU GO GIRL-"

and shes like tf is this crazy bish doing

but you're just really excited to have another person in the group cause being around the same uh 7-8 people can get boring

so you meet her and you're pretty excited

"be glad boys, you're getting another girl in the group."

now that drops your opinion

so you have a smol idea

to uh

you whisper something in her ear and the wAY HER EXPRESSION DROPS

guess what you said <3 bc ik ofc I wanna see what y'all think

anyhoo so then shes like WHAT THE HELL and drops it

and boom you pull your feminine/masculine/nonbinary wiles and she's now your bestie

and gojo says we're going sOmEwHeRe

and nobara and itadori get so excited

yk the EJWRHTKWJEHTAUIETHR and the hugging gojo

you're standing next to megumi though cause you know whats coming

the way their face drops when y'all go to that messed up school- was it a school?

anyway yuji and nobara go in and you're outside with megumi and gojo

y'all are sitting down nearby

you're tired af with this shit so you just plop your head down in megumi's lap and no questions he just lets you

<3

and hes running his fingers through your HAIRRRRR

*screaming*

so you have some lovey-dovey time and gojo sneaks a picture cause he low-key ships you two

and after the two come out y'all just walk back very nice day

okay moving on from the boring stuff he goes back to his dorm

is developing a crush ehe

so hes just lying in bed thinking like

WHY TF AM I FEELING THIS WAY OVER THAT IDIOT RAHHHH

poor guys conflicted

but good for you hehe

sigh I'm tired ill write a part 3 later lmao

[arcanechariot]

watching for poe (spoilers) - rise of skywalker

the things i will do for this man jesus christ....

playing yugioh with the homies

put that arm around my neck and those fingers in my mouth huh?

hes so cunty i love him

he keeps getting more and more dilfy and its ruining me

the fit is giving indiana jones and im so here for it

yoooooo we got the dream team baybeeeeee

not the leather gloves too....

also he is absolutely packing down there jfc

okay but real quick look at his tummy

look at his tummy

this is such a hot look for him tho????

love me a man who tinkers

uh oh forehead vein pop

thinking about the two apples post rn....

cmonnnnn let poe hear the goss finnnnnnn

honey can do loopdeloops and warp skip like a mad man but hes boutta yartz over some bones oml i love him

i love my triggerhappy arsonist flyboy space husband 🥰🥰

BRO STOP

hes so like rugged in this movie i love it

👀

he would be so surprised if you called him daddy but hed also be so into it

EXCUSE ME WHATS THIS

YOU PUT THAT FAT ASS AND THAT SOFT TUMMY AWAY RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD

i love when he says 😐😐 right at the camera

god i want him and his dadbod and his elder maxon coat so bad

dude im not even halfway through and im like my mouth is watering

pls i wanna kiss him so baddddddd

im gonna need to do a part 2 ffs

[moviehealthcommunity]

Alien: Romulus (2024)

This is a Movie Health Community evaluation. It is intended to inform people of potential health hazards in movies and does not reflect the quality of the film itself. The information presented here has not been reviewed by any medical professionals.

Alien: Romulus has strobe effects throughout almost the entire film. While most of them are moderate, the fact that they are such a constant presence compels us to give a bad score for flashing lights. Causes of the strobe effects include flickering lights, rapid-firing firearms, lightning, glitching screens, and strobe lights placed on the outside of wheeled vehicles and spacecraft.

There are a few brief uses of mild shaking camera work. There are two sequences taking place in zero-gravity environments that may be highly disorienting.

Flashing Lights: 10/10. Motion Sickness: 7/10.

TRIGGER WARNING: The normal horror elements of jump scares and gore are frequently used in this film. People with trauma around childbirth will want to exercise heavy caution around this film. There is an on-screen vomiting episode, preceded by several seconds of body language warning that it's about to happen. Multiple scenes depict people convulsing.

ADMIN BRANDON'S REVIEW: Far and away one of the best entries in its franchise, Alien: Romulus is a master class in how to utilize the best ideas from previous franchise entries. The familiar formula the movie uses is just as successful as Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. The practical effect work on display, especially with the set design, deserves the highest levels of recognition. One computer-generated element of this film may be a little off-putting, but I can't think of better alternatives to accomplish what this element accomplished. The characters may not be as charismatic as those in the original Alien film, but the lead protagonists are relatable enough to keep the audience engaged. Overall, it feels like the film Ridley Scott himself would have made with a budget like this if he had directed a direct sequel to Alien. Grade: A.

Image ID: A promotional poster for Alien: Romulus