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#JOE :D JOE
stillinracooncity · 8 months
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that feminine urge to read something that makes you cry, get angry, scream, laugh like a hormonal teenager, turn up the heat, feel like the most unique and beautiful human being on earth. *sighs*
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kanamesengoku · 8 months
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DECADES IN ANIME: 1980s
あしたのジョー2 · さよなら銀河鉄道999 · 超時空要塞マクロス · ゴルゴ13 · 北斗の拳 · 吸血鬼ハンターD · ドラゴンボール · デビルマン 誕生編 · AKIRA · らんま1/2
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freckledjoes · 2 months
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JOE KEERY @ The BRIT Awards, announcing the winner of Best New Artist
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myrathefarmer · 2 months
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Old comic page of one of my favorite fics out there - “The Ogre”, the second part of an amazing au by @sixteenth-days and their cowriter Zeph!
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sentientstump · 1 year
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hermit card pictures from beefs tcg
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more of them
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salemoleander · 8 months
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Delighted to report that the TCG cards are, in fact, real! Feat. a Joe of the Hills
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mellozheist · 7 months
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Match one
<< The Evil team win >>
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kbondoxxxxav · 21 days
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1M followers!!!! thank you so much for all the supports!!!
either you came since the digimon survive era or when i started having my one piece phase back (really unfortunate event, i hate one piece btw/j) i’m really grateful for all the likes and supports i’ve received!! thank you once again :)))
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blizzardsuplex · 4 months
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Don't do that, Hook—DON'T DO THAT, HOOK!
Hook makes a tactical error from Samoa Joe versus Hook, AEW Dynamite 01/17/2024
[Dedicated to the Joe squad Bee @wheeleryutas and Meeks @punks-baybay + Hook appreciator @rosabellebelieve <3]
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freckledjoes · 16 days
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Happy Birthday Joe :)
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kirbart90 · 3 months
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krbay episode 21
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Joe Hills was a day one Homestuck reader!
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salemoleander · 10 months
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Hermitcraft Stream Weekend this weekend!!! Which overlaps very well with the intended Joe Hills weekend
Everyone prepare your wallets for tipping and fingers for supportive comments!! 💚
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v-o-i-d-p-u-n-k · 7 months
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Echoes of yourself
[@hermithorrorweek - day 5: season 1/2 / echoes]
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bloodstainedsaint · 5 months
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Hey, I'm not sure if you take requests, but if you do, I have an idea:) Could you write something about a young woman who was in the Air Force disguised as a man and her plane was hit by the Germans while under attack, forcing her to jump out, leaving her stranded with her plane down and easy company witnessed the whole thing and tries to look for the pilot?
maybe with some romance or whatever with my mans lieb or doc roe if that’s possible hihi
when worlds collide (joseph liebgott x air force! reader)
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word count: 1000+
warnings: blood & injury, but nothing really graphic
notes: sorry for the wait on this one 😭 i've been busy BUT i promise to be posting more during my break
You didn't remember much after your plane was hit by German flak while passing over some Dutch forest you couldn't recall the name of. What you could remember was everything rapidly blinking and on fire around you, dials going this way and that, your hands flying around the control board and trying desperately to pull up with the yoke as you cursed violently beneath your breath.
Following your fruitless struggle against gravity, you remembered preparing to parachute out of your plane and into the woods beneath you.
You were pretty sure you blacked out for a while after that.
-
The sight of a fighter plane nosediving into the ground and its booming resulting crash interrupted an otherwise uneventful five-man patrol through the woods.
“Jesus Christ! Did you see that?” Babe exclaimed, gawking up at where the plane had been in the sky mere seconds ago.
“Looks like it landed near us,” Pat observed.
Don looked wide-eyed. “It was one of ours. The pilot might need our help if he ejected in time!”
Lip shushed them. “There's AA guns nearby. Someone ought to go back and tell Battalion they’re positioned somewhere to our left near that dike we passed. Christenson, you go.”
As Pat nodded and left the way they came, Lip said, “We can't take too long looking for a pilot we don't know is alive or not." He checked his watch and sighed. "Alright, meet back here at 1700. Stay alert. Don't go too far on your own.”
The squad spread out in search of the hopefully-alive pilot. Joe walked with his rifle at the ready for about 20 minutes before stumbling upon large chunks of debris from the plane. Not far from that was a severed parachute, and then a blood trail.
He followed it until he noticed a pilot sitting on the ground next to some brush with his back turned to him, his clothes torn up enough to where large parts of skin littered with cuts were visible. Joe slowly approached, mindful not to scare him and wind up with a bullet in his head.
“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, buddy.”
The pilot turned around, and Joe noticed that “he” was not a he at all.
Your hand shot to the pistol on your belt, leveling it at him while vainly covering up your top half. You’d been trying to treat your wounds with the first-aid kit strapped to your waist; you'd gotten several steadily bleeding scratches from falling through trees and one or two broken ribs from your hasty landing. You ended up taking off your corset to relieve pressure on your ribcage, leaving you with your ripped up uniform and coveralls.
Regardless of your relief that an American soldier had found you rather than a German one, you kept your hand fixed on your sidearm.
“Woah, lady, put down the gun. I'm not a Kraut.” Lowering his own gun, his narrowed eyes flashed to your chest and widened at the sight of the reddish purple bruises that blemished it. "Goddamn..."
“It’s not what it looks like,” you managed out, though talking (or breathing, for that matter) was difficult.
“I don’t care what it looks like,” he said, the edge to his tone softening as he carefully walked toward you. “You need help.”
You painfully exhaled and set the gun down next to you. You turned around again to focus on treating your injuries, wincing with the movement. “I'm fine.”
“You don't look it.” He crouched down next to you. You flinched away slightly — you'd been disguised as a man for a while now, and this was the first time anyone was seeing you so vulnerable since your enlistment — before letting him inspect your wounds, albeit with you concealing your chest with your arms and what remained of your jacket.
“What’s your name?” he asked, gingerly applying sulfa powder to the gashes on your body.
You slightly hissed at the stinging sensation. “(Y/N), Senior Airman, 4th Fighter Group.”
“Joseph D. Liebgott, Technician 5th Grade, 101st Airborne.”
There was a temporary silence, punctuated only by you sucking in air through your teeth. As he bandaged one of the cuts, he said, “We need to get you some help. I was out here on patrol with my squad; we have a medic back at—”
“What?” You looked at him with a bewildered expression. “No, I don't need any medic. I just need help informing my superiors I got lost going through dense fog and got shot down here.”
“Why not? ‘Cause he'll see you're a girl?”
You gave him a pointed look. “Why else? If you haven't noticed, there aren't very many women serving on the front lines.” You paused and took a deep breath in through your nose. “If you bring your squad over here, someone's gonna report me and get me kicked out of the Air Force…Hell, I don't even know if I trust you to not report me. I just met you, for Chrissakes.”
In truth, you didn’t even know why you were letting him tend to you anyways — you were capable of doing it yourself, your biggest secret was currently exposed, and he was a stranger. But there was something about his change in demeanor and a sudden tenderness in his voice once he saw your injuries that made you want to trust him.
“Your secret’s safe, (Y/N),” he said firmly, a set expression on his face. “I got no reason to rat you out; I just met you too.”
You scanned his face for any signs of deceit, sighed when you found none, and nodded. “I’m still not letting your medic take a look at me.”
“Fine, but that’s not gonna stop me from helping you. I’ll be quick; the guys are gonna be expecting me back soon. We’ll go talk to them together.”
He resumed his aid, and after a few minutes, you could tell that he had started getting curious; he didn't seem like a man who knew how to shut up.
“How’d you disguise yourself as a man this long?”
With a shaky inhale, you closed your eyes as his hands brushed over your rib cage. Involuntarily, a small smile made its way onto your face as the countless predicaments you’d found yourself in flooded your memory. “It’s a long story.”
Liebgott cracked a crooked smile. “I can make some time.”
Laughing despite the pain that flared in your rib cage from the action, you couldn't help but feel that this chanced occasion wouldn't be the last time you would speak to Liebgott. And for some reason foreign to you at that moment, you hoped that your intuition was correct.
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taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101
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angelsarrm · 5 months
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could u try drawing maybe pete, joe, and patrick when they were blond but like all together
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it smells like bleach n chemicals when all three hang out together
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