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millersdjarin · 1 year

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I Only See Daylight

Chapter Four

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse

Chapter Length: 4.2k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info

notes: im sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others! if it's any consolation, a few of the chapters in this fic are 10k, so there's that. :) i've set a posting schedule of mondays and thursdays, but this week i'm posting on sunday because i'm going to be travelling on monday and i have to stay off tumblr to avoid tlou spoilers until the evening. so, surprise :)

i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

“How do you feel?” Is the first thing you hear when you wake, rolling over on your makeshift bed to find Mando standing at the cave entrance again. He’s leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his hip cocked out, one leg bent casually.

Kriffing hells, how is he so attractive when all you can see of him is his posture and his impossibly shiny armour?

You force the thought from your mind, blaming it on your half-asleep state.

“I don’t know yet,” you answer with a grimace. It’s been two days since your fall. The pain is better, though the rest of your body feels stiff now, muscle soreness finally catching up with you after the tumble. There hasn’t been another storm, at least, so Mando has managed to hunt for every meal so far. He goes out to get water every morning, filling canteens to the brim. He makes you drink so much that sometimes it feels like you’re swimming in it. “Hydration helps with healing,” he says every time, even though you already know; he says it just to counter your playful glaring at him every time he hands you the flask.

“Sun rose not that long ago,” he cranes his neck to gaze up at the sky, “if you’re feeling up to it, we can probably travel today.”

You manage to sit up, but the minute you do, pain shoots down from the wound on your calf and into your ankle. It circles there around the joint and throbs. “Have we got any more ice packs?”

“One more,” Mando answers as he heads right over to his medpack and gets it out.

“We should ration it,” you hold out your hand to stop him activating it. “For when we’re travelling. I’ll probably need it.”

He looks down at the pack, hesitates. Then nods and puts it away. “Do you think you’ll be okay to travel today? If so, we should move soon, make the most of the daylight.”

Shifting a little, you try to get a gage on your body, how it feels. A grimace makes its way onto your face without your consent. Everything hurts. Literally everything. Muscles you didn’t even know you had are strained and stiff.

But you’ve been here for two days. He’s been stranded here for four.

“If the answer is anything but yes,” his voice cuts through your rapidly declining thoughts, “then my answer is no.”

Relieved, you smile. But you protest, “Mando, you’ve stayed with me so long now. I can make my own way back.”

“No,” he says definitively. “We move when you’re ready.”

You relax, settling back against the wall. You’re too sore to argue.

“The kid’s enjoying the vacation, anyway,” Mando says, the lilt of a smile in his voice.

As if summoned, Grogu steps forward from his little bed at the back of the cave. He yawns, his tiny mouth opening as wide as it can go, his eyes screwing shut.

Oh, Maker, he is adorable.

“You take time off a lot?” You ask with a wry smile as Mando scoops the kid up into his arms.

The huff of a laugh comes through his helmet. “Not really.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Mando tickles Grogu’s cheek, earning a little giggle.

You watch them. There’s that warmth again, creeping its way between your ribs, around your heart.

You have to look away.

All three of you are starting to get a little stir crazy by the time the night comes around.

You’re feeling better, though. Mando’s hydration obsession is working to help loosen out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t help, though, that you have to keep getting up every hour to pee. Especially because you have to tell Mando every time nature calls, which is, admittedly, rather humiliating—it shouldn’t be, it’s fucking natural, but he’s Mando and he’s been making you feel a certain way, and you don’t want to have to admit to this terrifying yet comforting man that you have to piss. It’s even worse that he has to help you hobble outside, then walk away while you do your business, and come back and pretend to not notice the puddle sinking into the ground.

It’s demoralising. Your cheeks are tired from flushing red all the time.

But he insists on you drinking enough, even when you protest.

“I don’t mind doing this, you know,” he says as the sun sets, an arm around you as you hobble to the designated Nature Area.

“Yes, you do,” you grumble, kind of just wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“I don’t,” he insists. “It’s fine. Besides, it’s good to move a little.”

“A little? Mando, it’s every hour, on the hour, at this point.”

The unfamiliar sound of a soft laugh comes through his helmet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded fond. But you’ve never heard a laugh like that. So. “It’s good. Just call me back when you’re ready.”

He never comes back until you call, no matter how long it takes you.

It isn’t lost on you, either, that you never would have been able to do this on your own. You’d have had to piss where you sat. Which seems like a worse concept than just ruining your leg, and subsequent mobility, forever by forcing yourself to walk home.

As darkness approaches, Mando takes his flashlight—yours is long dead by now—and puts it in the far end of the cave. He stays over there, rustling in his pack for something. Curious, you watch, wondering what he’s doing; he angles the light strangely, propping it up with a few stray rocks on the ground, and then fishes out a small piece of canvas, pulled from what remained of your tent. He puts it over the flashlight, folds it once.

Then, the light is softer. Diffused around the cave.

Grogu, who is sitting against the wall playing with a little silver ball, looks up at the newly-lit cave walls and laughs in glee.

“You like it, kid?” Mando asks him.

The kid claps his hands together, gazing around. Mando laughs softly and sits back down beside the kid, watching him.

You’re watching Mando. It’s impossible not to, with the soft light reflecting from his armour in a new way, casting new highlights and shadows across every curve and edge. You wonder what places he’s been, how he’d look in all kinds of light. Harsh, bright, sunshine of a bright summer’s day, the dark ashy colour beneath rain clouds.

“Mando?” You find yourself saying.

He looks up at you, one hand holding the kid.

“Tell me about somewhere else you’ve been,” you request. “Please?”

“Where do you want to hear about?”

“Anywhere. First place that comes to mind.”

For a second, he’s quiet, just looking at you. Considering. When he speaks, he doesn’t say what you expected him to, and his voice is softer than it should be. “You really want to travel, don’t you?”

And, okay.

That hits a nerve.

You look away, blinking. It’s clear that you’ve tensed, that something has made you uncomfortable; and you expect him to backtrack, to apologise, but he just waits. So patient, like he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t say anything, or even if you just told him to fuck right off. You wish you could see his face, decipher his expression. Match it to the soft curiosity of his lovely voice.

“Yeah,” you manage on a shaky breath, imagining yourself up there, in the vastness of space, free to explore the Galaxy. “Yeah, I do.”

Quiet again. He’s giving you space.

You take it, let it sink in.

Then, his voice is there again, “So why don’t you?”

And if that isn’t a question and a half. “It’s, uh,” you clear your throat. You’re about to say it’s complicated. But that doesn’t even cover the half of it. Instead, feeling a cold, familiar dread slowly creeping through your veins, you say, “I like it here.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you still, some kind of unexplainable patience coming from his dark visor.

It’s unclear if he can hear the omission of the truth.

You don’t want to lie to him.

You’re sitting here, in a cave that he so beautifully lit as best he can, on top of a bed that he made just for you to be comfortable, after he’s helped you pee about twelve times a day for the last two days. He’s been nothing but kind.

And it’s not that you feel like you owe him answers because of that. Nor, in fact, that you think he feels you owe him answers. His quiet, unassuming patience in the dim intimacy of this cave is proof enough of that.

No, it’s not that.

It’s that you’ve been alone for so long. You’ve never said this to anyone.

And after all this, once you’re back at your hut and you’ve fixed his ship together, he’s going to leave. And you’re never going to see him again, anyway.

So.

“Truthfully,” you say, “as much as I like it here, it’s not where I’d choose to be. If I had another choice.”

Instead of staying still and silent, he starts to nod. His gaze is unwavering, solid and stable, weaving its way into the tension and uncertainty beneath your skin, soothing it.

Grogu gets up and waddles over to you. He climbs clumsily into your lap.

Then, with a quick look to Grogu, Mando says, “I understand.”

And that, those simple words, make something release in your chest.

The weight of your confession doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expected. In fact, it feels like something has lifted in the air between the three of you. Like even the kid understands.

Well.

This is new.

As the third morning in the cave rolls around, you wake up feeling much better.

Once you’ve relieved your always-full bladder, you tell Mando as much, staggering back into the cave and to your bed. “You can stop over-watering me now,” you tease as he lets you back against the wall, gentle. Your hands are on the backs of his arms, and slide all the way down them as he moves away. You wish you could linger there, and the way he moves so slowly, his visor gazing down into your sleepy eyes, makes you think that he wishes that, too.

As your palms brush against his wrists, he seems to catch himself. He pulls away quickly and turns to distract himself with the kid.

“So, you’re ready to travel?” He asks.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, staring at him from behind. He has a nice behind. (And you need to stop. Immediately.)

“You can lean on me. We’ll take it slow, I promise.”

Kriff, say that again… “I’ll be alright. You’ve got enough to carry.”

He looks at you again. “I’m leaving the parts here,” he says, like that should be obvious.

“What?” You frown. “But your ship…”

“Once we find our way back, and you’re safe, I’ll come back for them.”

“Mando, I can manage. Seriously, we should take the parts. You’ve been here long enough.”

The helmet tilts. “You trying to get rid of me?” It would concern you, if the teasing in his tone wasn’t arousingly obvious.

You just about manage to recover from the stirring in your belly, and you laugh, “Totally. Sick of you already.”

The kid, standing beside him, looks at you and makes a sad noise. His ears turn down towards the ground.

Kriff. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” you assure him with a smile. As a peace offering, you reach your hands out to him, and he relaxes in an instant, immediately plodding over to you and climbing into your lap. You hold him, give him a quick hug, then just let him sit there. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually gonna miss you,” you whisper into his ear. He coos happily, tugging at a loose thread on your coat.

When you look up, Mando is, of course, staring at you. This time, you know for sure that it’s at both you and the kid.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing,” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to pack up. Then we can move. You okay to sit with the kid?”

“You know I am,” you smile, and watch as Mando nods and heads outside.

That pang in your chest is back. Well, you’re not sure when it turned from a slow warmth into a pang.

But it’s there. Too obvious to ignore.

For a few miles, you manage pretty well. It took some convincing, but you got Mando to agree to taking the parts along with him in the end. You do lean on him, but only when moving over particularly rough terrain, fallen logs, or exposed tree roots.

“How we doing?” Mando asks at around noon.

“Fine,” you say, feeling a little breathless.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. We can stop soon for a break.”

Another hour passes, your ankle is starting to throb, and you’re really fucking glad that you saved that ice pack for this exact moment.

Mando sits you down on a fallen log, keeping his arm around you until you’re properly seated, lingering just a little too long for you to tame the way it makes your heart beat wildly. To feel the heat of him through his flight suit, your hands and arms pressed to parts of him not covered by armour, just the soft parts; it’s a lot. When you first saw him, this wall of metal, you never thought you’d see any further than that. Kriff, you never even thought he’d get closer to your hut than he was when you had your blaster pointed at him.

Maybe that would have been best. Because if he’d just left, if there was another way for him to get the help he needed, you wouldn’t be thinking about him the way you are right now.

The softness of the crook of his elbow, the curve of his waist and hip. The warmth of his skin that you have yet to see an inch of. All of the weapons strapped to him, so close to you, close enough that if it were anyone else, you’d be scared.

But it’s Mando.

This might be the least scared you’ve been in a lifetime.

He cracks the ice pack to activate it, then kneels down in front of you. Reaching out to grab a smaller log, he places it under your ankle, elevates your leg slightly. Then his gloved fingers tug at the hem of your trousers. “Can I?” He asks.

Kriff. You nod, unable to form words.

The rough-yet-smoothness of the gloves is all you feel at first, brushing delicately against your skin as he lifts your trousers, then unlaces your boots, gently pulling them off, followed by your socks. Your ankle is more swollen than it had been this morning, but you’d expected that.

And, besides, that is not what you’re thinking about right now.

Instead your mind can only focus on the softness of his hold under your foot, the gentle way he places the ice pack on top of it. The heat of his hand starts to come through. You wish it was his bare skin. Wish you knew what his skin is like. Is it calloused, or soft from always protecting them? Does he have scars? Is the hair on his arms dark, light, a thin covering or thicker, perfect to run your fingers through—

His hands are gone before you realise it. It takes your glitching mind a second to catch up.

You chase him with your eyes, silently wishing for him to come back.

But then.

Then.

As he turns away, he reaches for the flask in his satchel. You watch his hands lift to his helmet, take a gentle hold of the base of it. At first you panic, thinking he’s about to remove his helmet, no you don’t have to do that it’s okay—

But he just lifts it the tiniest bit, such a small movement that you only know it has been lifted because he puts the rim of his flask to his lips and takes a sip.

You can’t see his skin, not a hint of it. But you can hear him drinking, hear the water against his lips, the gentle gulps as he swallows.

And the way it entrances you, takes you away from the forest and the pain of your ankle and the fact that this is so not appropriate for you to be thinking—yeah, it’s probably for the best that he can’t ever show his face to you.

You look away before he even lowers the helmet again.

Maybe the worst part about all this is that you’re starting to dread Mando and the kid leaving.

That’s not how this was supposed to go, not how any of this was supposed to play out. You helped him because it was the right thing to do, because it’s exactly what They would tell you not to do, because your life has been the same every single fucking day since you got here.

But that’s been fine. It’s been safe.

“Pass me that wrench?” Mando asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You pass him it, noting the tilt of his helmet in a wordless ‘thanks’ before he turns back to his job. He’s up on a ladder, leaning against the ship’s exterior wall with one of the panels fully off, fixing something to do with the foundation for the body.

His ship is bigger than you’d expected. He tells you that it’s bigger than his old ship, the Razor Crest, but only by a little. “It’s a similar shape,” he’d said, “but it has two bunks and more space. For the kid.” He has a star fighter too, apparently, docked at some other base off-world with a friend of his. It’s funny to imagine him with friends, though you’re not sure why. Especially because, since getting to know him the last few days, you know how generous he is. How kind, helpful. Gentle, despite everything.

Why wouldn’t he have friends?

Beneath him, you sit on a crate and lean against the ship, waiting for him to give you more instructions. The engine has been mostly fixed now, as much as it’s ever going to be out here in the middle of nowhere using scrounged-up parts. He’s just getting the last of the body work done, enough to make sure it’s aerodynamically sound.

It’s interesting, watching him work. You ask a lot of questions, and every time you do, you expect a frustrated sigh or an exasperated response. But he answers every question thoroughly, and it doesn’t even distract him from his work.

The sun is warm against your face. The afternoon of Mando’s fifth day on this planet is drawing to a close, fading into the evening. As the sky turns to duller shades of blue, tinted with oranges and pinks, you can’t help but admire the way he looks beneath the light. His armour is always the same, always so distinctive, yet it reflects different lights in different ways. Sometimes it makes the beskar appear darker, like a gun metal grey. Other times it’s a bright silver. Then there are times like this, when it goes with the colour of the sky, reflects the beauty of everything surrounding him.

You think back to the light in the cave, how that looked different still. The urge to see the Galaxy comes over you again, though this time it’s not staring at his ship and dreaming about taking off in it that does it; this time, it’s wondering what he looks like in even more places, more environments. Does the metal get hot in the sunshine? Or is it always as cool as it’s been when you’ve had the chance to feel it before?

The kid is sitting on the ground in front of you. There’s a beetle scuttling around in the mud, and Grogu is toying with it, blocking it off when it runs one way, then doing the same when it runs the other. You wonder if he’s going to eat it, or if he’s just having fun by being cruel to the little six-legged creature.

“Don’t play with your food,” Mando says to him, answering your silent question.

Grogu looks up at him. His ears turn downwards, sulking. Mando ignores his obvious pleas to change his mind, turning back to his work. When Grogu looks back at the beetle, he only just catches it before it runs off, and instead of toying with it anymore, he just shoves it in his mouth with a loud crunch.

You find yourself smiling at him. He smiles back, ears lifting again.

“Alright,” Mando starts to step down from the ladder. You reach out and hold one of the ladder’s legs, knowing he probably doesn’t need you to, but still not wanting to risk it. Ladders make you nervous. “Think that’s the best we’re going to get.”

You look up to the ship. He’s fixed the panel back on again. Now all that remains is the burnt metal from his “interesting landing”, with some bends in it, exposing little sections of the framework beneath. It’s definitely a patchwork job. But it looks better than it did when you got here this morning. So.

“How’s your leg?” He asks as he folds up the ladder.

“Good,” you answer. It’s stretched out in front of you, propped on another crate. “Ship looks good.”

With a resigned sigh, he puts his hand on his hips, and tilts his helmet to look up at his handiwork. “No, she doesn’t. But she’ll do.” Then he looks back to you, “I couldn’t have fixed it without your help. Thank you.”

You shift under his gaze, unable to help it. Every time he looks at you it feels like his eyes can see right through you, and the part that makes you uncomfortable is that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Self-conscious and disgustingly aware of your own inappropriate, lustful thoughts? Yes. Uncomfortable? No. You don’t think it ever could.

“Of course,” you say eventually. “And, hey, I’ve got a scar to remember our little adventure by, huh?”

He laughs softly. You see the shake of his chest as the chuckle comes through his modulator. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Hm, no. But there’s no gift shop around here. So.”

He shakes his head, and you imagine, hope, that he’s smiling under all that beskar. He certainly looks casual, a hand on one hip, one leg relaxed while his weight rests on the other.

“Do you always stare so much?” You find yourself asking with a teasing, daring quirk of your brow.

“Yes.”

“At everyone, or just me?”

He pauses. Your heart rate spikes briefly as you wait for his response to your terrible excuse for flirting. “At everyone,” he answers eventually, and disappointment starts to set in before he says, “But it’s harder to look away from you.”

Oh.

The disappointment quickly shifts to nervousness, heart beating fast again as you clench your hands in your lap. He just stands there, staring despite the awkward and loaded silence between you, and stares. As if he’s making his point by offering an example.

You look away. Suddenly, your cheeks are hot. “You hungry?” You find yourself asking.

He pauses again, then nods. “Yes.”

“I’ll make us some dinner. You just come back to the hut whenever you’re ready.” It’s only as you stand to hobble back home that you realise he might not want that. You swivel back around to face him, backtrack, “I mean, unless you want to eat out here. Your ship’s fixed now, I guess you can—you can stay in that? You don’t have to come back with me. I’ll be okay.”

Again, getting more and more infuriating with each silence he lets stretch out, he just stares. Kriffing hells, does he ever stop!?

“Would you let me cook for you?” He asks, finally.

You weren’t expecting that.

Shifting weight to your good leg, you raise your eyebrows. “You want to cook me dinner?”

He nods once. “Yes. To thank you for all your help. And as a farewell.”

You’ve been trying your hardest not to think about that part. It sits in your stomach, cold and dreadful and confusing, too far down for you to swallow it. “Alright,” you agree with a soft smile. “I can’t promise I’ve got any decent ingredients, though. You might have to perform a miracle.”

“I’m up to the challenge,” he says, hooking his thumb over the belt around his hips. You’re distracted by it, finding your eyes sliding down to his middle before you catch yourself and look back up. The tilt of his helmet suggests he might have seen your gaze shift. “I’ll walk back with you. Just give me a minute.”

You can’t find a reason to refuse.

♡ updates posted Mondays and Thursdays ♡

notes: thank you for reading! all interactions are appreciated as always, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️ as always, the title and lyrics at the start are from taylor swift's "daylight"

taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @iwantjoelmillertoultraviolenceme

if you wanna be on the taglist, let me know! (pls specify if just the taglist for this fic, or the list for all my future fics ❤️)

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars fanfiction #my post #my fic: mando #i only see daylight

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cha-melodius · 1 month

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Fic Pride Weekend

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

@kiwiana-writes tagged me for "Fic Pride Friday" but let's face it, no one is actually doing this on a Friday anymore and Fic Pride should go the whole weekend.

So I decided to try to give some superlatives—my favorite action sequence, my favorite kiss, my favorite love confession, my favorite comedy moment, etc etc. But the problem was I came up with a LOT of superlatives! Oh well. A few up top, and the rest below the cut. Oh, and there are some spoilers below, so be warned!

Favorite Shouted Love Confession: Love is a Losing Game

“Then what, Illya?” Napoleon demands sharply, frustration heating his face. “What exactly was the problem?” “I love you, Napoleon!” Illya nearly shouts, the words ringing loudly in quiet of the club, and the silence that follows is only broken by Illya’s ragged breaths as Napoleon stares at him in shock. Illya closes his eyes, as if trying to steady himself, and when he opens them again the raw vulnerability in them is startling. “I love you,” he says again, with something like resignation in his voice, “and when they told me you quit I thought I would never see you again, and— and that was not something I could bear.”

Favorite Action Sequence (Duo): This Hell of a Season

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the headlamp rapidly approaching. He’s not sure if it will be fast enough. Henry watches as the dark shape of the man, little more than a shadow under the meagre moonlight, shifts slightly out from behind the hedges again. A few more shots, fired near where the shadow lurks, buys Henry some time, but Alex’s approach feels impossibly slow, as if he were travelling through treacle. One heartbeat passes. Two. Three. Four. The motorbike gets close enough to bathe Henry in a wash of yellow-tinted light; he’s now far too tempting a target, and the man shifts out from behind his cover again. Alex nearly puts the bike on its side as he skids into a stop, cutting the lamp at the last minute and plunging them into darkness. “Here!” he yells, and Henry flings himself in his direction, nearly blind after the brightness of the headlamp.

Favorite Action Sequence (Solo): A Good Man is Hard to Find

Pulling a rope off his belt, Mobius ties it securely around the empty window frame then measures out what he guesses is the right length before attaching the other end to his belt again. On the other side of the table, the guards have stopped firing, but he has no doubt they’ll be advancing on him now that they’ve realized that he’s not shooting back. He’ll need to stand up to be able to jump out far enough, which unfortunately means making an easy target of himself for at least a few seconds. He peeks around the table and sends a couple of bullets toward their feet, which succeeds in making them scatter and retreat backwards. Then, holding onto the window frame for support, Mobius takes a deep, steadying breath and rises to his feet. In the second before he jumps, the guards start shooting at him again and a bullet tears through the outside of his upper arm, but he barely feels it past the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He launches himself out as far as he can until he feels the rope snap tight at his belt, punching the breath out of his body. The line starts swinging him in an arc down toward the window, and he twists wildly as he tries desperately to orient himself in the air. Just before he smashes into the huge sheet of plate glass, he manages to fire twice into it and, in a rain of glass, crashes back into the building two floors down. The shouts of the guards are audible from above, as is the sound of running feet; no doubt they’re already heading back down the stairs. Mobius scrambles up and over toward the delivery entrance where he and Sylvie first came in, smearing the blood that’s dripping down his arm along the floor and doorway in a trail. Satisfied at the feint, he takes off toward the utility room and gets through the door, closing it carefully behind him.

Favorite Car Chase: The Hardest Cut (continues from here, hard to put the whole thing in!)

They turn again, away from the courthouse, and Mobius can unmistakably feel the horrible cocktail of adrenaline and dread that floods into his veins. Loki doesn’t answer his question, but his hands tighten on the steering wheel as he stares fixedly out the windshield, knuckles going painfully white. “You’re starting to worry me, you know,” Mobius says with a nervous chuckle, like it’s a joke. “Little heads up on what we’re doing would be great right about now.” Finally, Loki glances sideways at him—once, twice, then a third, lingering look—then he takes a deep, shuddery breath like he’s coming to a decision. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears emphatically, then jerks the wheel hard to the right, sending them fishtailing into a wild skid and down an alley that looks entirely too narrow. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

Favorite Moment of Slapstick Comedy: The Makings of a Perfect Christmastime

Waverly, on the other hand, looks surprisingly unperturbed. “Oh, I know,” he says, incredibly. “Because what it looks like is that my war hero is playing home-wrecker to my star author’s marriage.” He looks pointedly at Illya, who’s mouth opens wordlessly as he flushes a deep scarlet, before his gaze slide back to Napoleon. “But that’s not actually what’s happening here, is it?” Napoleon’s mind is whirring as he tries desperately to figure out what the hell is going on, but before he can think of anything that might offer some kind of reasonable explanation, the door to the kitchen opens again. “I’m hoping that the fact that you didn’t come back to the room means you were getting laid and not in here cooking all night,” Gaby says as she comes in, so focused on the coffee that she doesn’t even see Waverly standing off to the side. For a moment, no one moves, until she turns with a mug of coffee in her hand, spots Waverly, and proceeds to drop it on the floor.

Favorite Wrestling Scene: Double Dutch with a Hand Grenade

Two can play, and all that, and he is not having this conversation on his back. Not when Illya has been seemingly holding all the cards to this point. He cants his hips under Illya—slowly, deliberately—and is gratified when his partner’s eyes go wide. More importantly, the distraction makes his grip on Napoleon’s wrists loosen. Napoleon yanks his hands down, out of Illya’s hold, then slams the heel of his palm hard into his sternum. Illya grunts in pain and surprise, shoulders curling inward, which gives Napoleon enough of an opening to grab the front of his t-shirt and roll them both sideways until Illya’s back thunks hard against the mat. It’s Illya’s turn to glare up at him, still grimacing. Napoleon has effectively reversed their positions, pinning Illya’s wrists to the mat over his head, though he hasn’t managed to secure his lower body. Instead, Illya’s legs are wrapped around his waist, preventing him from maneuvering or getting any better leverage for a subsequent attack. Of course, that also means Illya’s legs are wrapped around his waist, which is something he’d been valiantly trying not to imagine ever since that encounter at the café. So much for that. Neither of them is completely in control of this situation, and it’s rapidly starting to seem like that’s true in more ways than one.

Favorite Emotional "Confession": Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood

“Yeah, I mean, it hurts,” he says with a nonchalant shrug he’s pretty sure doesn’t land. He wants to ask, ‘what makes me different? why are you friends with everyone but me?’, but that would give up the game for sure. Instead, he aims for something close. “Sometimes it feels like you’re more distant with me than with other people at the office.” “You’re right,” Henry replies with shocking matter-of-factness. “Casual friends are easy, Alex. There’s no risk when you don’t want anything more from someone than the ability to hold a five minute conversation over coffee in the break room. It’s different when it’s… someone you might truly care about. You’re different.” Alex doesn’t really know what to do with that. It’s quickly becoming difficult to tell where the lies end and the truth begins. “Oh,” he says, floundering a little. “I guess I can see that.”

Favorite Flirty Email: Class(room) Warfare

To: Alexander Claremont-Diaz <[email protected]> From: Henry Fox-Mountchristen <[email protected]> Subject: Re: your shirts Dr. Acerbic Cocky-Disaster I am quite certain you’ve never given anyone a break in your life. Regretfully, Henry Assistant Professor of What Did I Do To Deserve This

Favorite Seductive Spoon-licking (yes, I have more than one): All the Old Showstoppers

Locating a clean tasting spoon, he scoops a bit of the buttercream out of his mixer and holds it out to Alex across the top of his station. Their fingers brush when Alex reaches out to take it, and an image of Alex holding a very similar spoon up to his lips flashes through Henry’s mind. His mouth goes slightly dry at the memory, and that’s before Alex proceeds to stick the spoon deep into his mouth and draw it slowly out between his lips. Alex’s low hum, which skirts dangerously close to a moan, is somehow audible over the buzz of activity in the tent, and his eyelids flutter slightly as his pink tongue slips out to lick the back of the spoon in a manner that is far too seductive for their current setting. Who could have guessed that giving Alex a spoon would be such a massive mistake? Because Henry can see a camera currently filming them out of the corner of his eye, but he still can’t seem to force his own bloody mouth closed, nor can he hope to control the flush that is no doubt painting his cheeks a rather lurid pink, if he knows himself. The best he can hope for is that he just looks stunned rather than incredibly turned on by the display before him. “Ok, yeah, that’s good,” Alex says, snapping him out of the daze he finds himself in. He grins, and the mischief sparkling in his eyes is enough to make Henry believe he did that on purpose. “Guess you’re gonna make things hard for me, huh Wales?”

Favorite Movie Adaptation Moment: False Dichotomy

“Sometimes I wonder,” Alex says, staring up at the leaves fluttering in the breeze over the sidewalk. “If you hadn’t been Mountchristen, and I hadn’t been Under the Rainbow Books…” “Alex,” Henry breathes, a little unsteadily. Alex keeps going because he is, as previously established, an idiot. He can’t quite bring himself to look at Henry, though. “Maybe I’d have gotten up the courage to ask for your number.” “I’d have asked for yours,” Henry says firmly, surprising him. That does make Alex turn back toward him again. “That first day in the shop. Wouldn’t have been able to wait even twenty-four hours before asking you out to dinner.” “We’d never have been at war,” Alex continues. “The only thing we’d fight about is what to watch on Saturday night.” “Only because you have terrible taste in Star Wars movies,” Henry teases.

Favorite Angsty Kiss: So Close to Something Better Left Unknown

Alex hesitates a moment too long for it not to be an answer. Henry’s eyes are dark and wild with primal desire and something else, something more terrifying than even that, and Alex murmurs, “It doesn’t matter.” “Alex—” Alex turns in his arms and drags him into a kiss that catches like dry tinder, lighting such an inferno under his skin that Alex feels like he’s the one who’s been drugged. This is a fucking mistake, he thinks desperately, then his mind goes blissfully blank as Henry’s tongue slides into his mouth. It’s rough, demanding, as much as sparring match as a kiss, particularly when Henry sinks a hand into his hair and tugs hard, then bites down on Alex’s lower lip when he gasps as stars burst in his vision. Alex gives as good as he gets, though, finally getting his teeth on those sinful fucking lips and swallowing Henry’s answering moans.

Favorite Almost Kiss: White Knuckles

When he comes out of his last spin, Napoleon joins him for the final movements, an expansive trip across the ice that usually ends with Illya hunched over, almost on one knee, as if clutching an apparently dead Juliet. Now, though, there is an actual body in his grasp: Napoleon is underneath him, back bent into a graceful arc, being held off the ice only by Illya’s grip on his hip and his palm splayed between his shoulder blades. As the music comes to its grand conclusion he meets Napoleon’s eyes, and suddenly Napoleon doesn’t seem so unaffected anymore. He’s certainly breathless, all right, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted, and it would be so easy for Illya to flex his arms and draw him upward until their lips meet. Illya considers it a true testament to his self control that he doesn’t do it. “Wow,” Napoleon breathes, after a long moment in which he has made no move to disentangle himself from Illya. Then one corner of his mouth quirks upward into a smirk. “Now that’s more like it.” It is also a testament to Illya’s self control that he doesn’t drop him on the ice.

Favorite Cliffhanger: Nova, Baby

A couple of officers with red crosses on their helmets hurry forward as Raf grabs Alex’s arm and tries to pull him to the side. Somewhere deep inside, Alex knows that he has to let go, that Henry’s only hope is the medical team. The panic choking him has fully taken over now, though, and he only clutches Henry more tightly to his chest. “N-no, Raf, please,” he pleads. “You have to let go of him, kid.” “No, no, I can’t, I can’t—“ “Alex! Look at me!” Raf commands sharply. The order catches Alex full in the chest and he responds instinctively, his gaze snapping up to meet dark, worried eyes. A face much like his own, but lined and careworn after years at the agency. A face that has seen more than its share of hopeless situations. A face that is telling Alex, now, to trust him. “You have to,” Raf says again, his voice gentle but firm. Alex lets go.

Favorite First Meeting: Cold Light

“That doesn’t sound good,” the man replies as he straightens up again. Whatever he was doing he seems to be done with, even though he hasn’t touched a thing. He stares up at the sky for a moment, as if lost in thought; in the silence that follows, Mobius watches ribbons of what’s shaping up to be a rather spectacular display of the aurora borealis begin winding their way across the night’s sky behind him. “So? What do you think?” “Hm?” “About the engine.” “Oh, I don’t actually know anything about engines.” Mobius stares at him for a beat in disbelief. “Then why’d you want to see it?” The man shrugs, a vaguely amused expression playing on his features. “Seemed like a thing one does when your vehicle breaks down.”

Favorite Outsider Perspective: That's What Other People Do

“You know me so well, Peril,” Solo says to him before taking a huge bite. He briefly looks, somewhat bizarrely, like a chipmunk. “I know you are somehow always hungry,” Kuryakin returns. “And you get as excited about greasy diner food as gourmet restaurant.” Solo swallows and grins broadly. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than greasy diner food. If I’m gonna have to go to Jersey for this mission, I might as well indulge. Gimme some of your milkshake, would you?” Kuryakin lets out a put-upon sigh, but his mouth is unmistakably tugging up at the corners as he slides the half empty glass over toward his partner. Robin chews slowly as she watches them continue to banter about the food as if she wasn’t there at all. Kuryakin stretches an arm out along the back of the booth behind Solo’s shoulders, and when Solo finally polishes off the burger he settles back against it, almost but not quite tucked against Kuryakin’s side, looking immensely satisfied.

Favorite Angsty Confrontation: Little by Little

“How many have there been?” Napoleon whispers. Suddenly his proximity is unbearable. Close enough that Illya could lean in and kiss him in an instant, and wouldn’t that just be the perfect cap on all of this misery? He can almost imagine the slide of his lips and the heat of his mouth for a moment before the fantasy threatens to choke him. Illya drops his arm and turns away, striding across the room as he scrubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know,” he says into his palms, and it’s nearly inaudible to even him so he knows Napoleon did not hear the answer. “How many, Peril? I mean are we talking a one or two, or a handful, or—” “I don’t know!” Illya bellows, wheeling back toward him.

Tagging @orchidscript, @historicallysam, @leaves-of-laurelin, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @three-drink-amy

@loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @nicijones, @justabigoldnerd, @magicandarchery, @14carrotghoul

@mirilyawrites, @eusuntgratie, @cactusdragon517, @violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @magicandarchery

@myheartalivewrites

So that's the number of snippets I posted, but PLEASE if you see this and want to do it, jump in!! Be proud of your fics!

#fic pride friday #fic pride weekend #rwrb #firstprince #napollya #tmfu #lokius

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munsonownsmyass · 1 year

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Not now, not yet

Joel miller x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood. I choose to leave out the rest, so I don't spoil.

Notes: I don't know what this is. Barely a drabble, but I had a thought and had to write it.

No spoilers for the show, promise.

Breathing hard, you look around as you try to gather your senses. Everything turned to chaos in a split second when that horde surprised you, coming from every side. Somewhere during your escape, you lost track of the others, but most importantly you lost track of Joel and Ellie.

Frantically you look around, disorientated by everything around you. Guttural growls that should only be in nightmares fill the air, followed by screams of pain and gunshots. Please don’t let it be Joel. It’s selfish to wish another person dead, but they could take anyone, just not Joel.

Leaning against a wall, you slowly pull up your shirt, the worm fabric already painted red. Shit. Not like this. Not now, not yet.You had to find Joel and Ellie.

Whump

The sound is almost soft, but it’s followed seconds later by a blast, the energy enough to knock you over. Fumbling to your knees, you see the cloud in the distance. You try to see through the dust, in the direction of the explosion, praying Joel didn’t go that way.

“Oh God.” Your fingers tremble as they reach for the walkie. “Joel?” The line remains silent and you breathe out slowly, trying to hold back the tears. “Joel? Come in, please…”

There’s still no answer, only the white static filling the air, the sound taunting you. Trying one more time, you know how desperate it must sound, but you don’t care. “Joel!”

Perhaps… They weren’t even near the blast. Perhaps they’re still somewhere behind you, battling the infected. Perhaps they’re fine somewhere, nothing but a few bruises. They’re fine. They have to be fine.

With one final look around, you make sure the coast is clear before you move forward. One word keeps circling you mind as you move forward, searching for your group.

Please

The pain shoots through you, making it harder to breathe. The t-shirt is clinging to your skin, hot and sticky. You had to stop the bleeding, you knew that, but you wanted to find them. Had to find them.

It gets harder to walk, each step feeling like dragging your feet through sand. Blinking a few times, you try to focus, vision already getting blurry. Behind you the sound of an infected is drawing near. You have to fight it, its you or it, but you don’t have the energy. Body is getting heavy, but you have to go on. Have to find them. Have to…

“Sweetheart.”

His voice pulls you back, his beard tickling against the sensitive skin of your neck. Opening your eyes, you see the ugly wallpaper of your bedroom, the color so faded you barely can make out the print. An arm tightens around you. His arm.

Turning around, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent. He’s real, he’s there. Shaking, you move closer, impossibly close and Joel just holds you, one hand drawing soft circles on your back. “I… I thought you and Ellie were dead.” You sniffle, moving your head to his chest, the sweet sound of his heartbeat grounding you.

“Yeah, figured as much.” He drawls, his voice thick with sleep, as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. After the last run where you had a close call, you’ve had nightmares almost every night. But every time Joel was there to make it all better again. “We’re okay.” He whispers softly into your hair, holding you close.

“I know.” But still, you wrap yourself impossibly tight to him. You hate to be this vulnerable with him, but you can’t help it. He’s the one thing keeping you sane in this fucked up world. You can’t lose him. Looking up, you see how the moonshine falls on his face, making him even more beautiful. He looks to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. No words are needed, his eyes say it all. He can’t lose you either. And hopefully, he never will.

Tagging: @mindidjarin @misspearly1 @boliv-jenta @itwasthereaminuteago @scorpio-marionette @pedrito-friskito @iamskyereads @lucy-sky @marvelous-world-of-fiction @littlemisspascal @e-dubbc11 @thisishellfire @idrinkcoffeeandobsess

Soft tag (feel free to ignore): @absurdthirst @frannyzooey

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction

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bringthekaos · 7 months

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Gunna take a break from Arcane for a moment to talk about Our Flag Means Death, because I am extremely disappointed and I have to put these thoughts somewhere. Putting it under a cut, because I myself forgot to filter the OFMD tag while I was working and got it spoiled for me. So ye be warned, OFMD SPOILERS AHEAD.

That ending was genuinely one of the worst I’ve seen in a long time. The only other time I can recall being this sickened and angry about a show’s ending was Game of Thrones. And it’s not because I’m sad or mad or confused by Izzy’s death, yes that’s partly it, but because a character who was experiencing massive change and character growth was ONCE AGAIN rewarded with death. I am so goddamn sick of rooting for people to do better, to be better, and then FINALLY get that catharsis only to have it thrown away for shock value.

What did this add to the story? Narratively, I mean. If this is indeed the end of OFMD, and it doesn’t get renewed, what the absolute FUCK kind of message does that send? Izzy was postured as some kind of obstacle between Ed and Stede in Season 1, but in S2, he was allowed to grow outside of that weird and fucked up love triangle (term used incredibly loosely, because his love was pretty much one-sided, and most of the time it was selfish and toxic). In S2, he went on an incredible journey of coming to terms with the fact that Ed would never be his again, not in the way he wanted. Even if it was never romantic or sexual (I do not see it), he wanted Ed to himself, and he had to accept that it would never happen. And he fucking DID, that’s the pisser. He learned to see the value in Ed’s transformation, the good that Stede was for him. And he learned to appreciate it and even start playing with it and teasing the two of them. And the worst/best part was that he embraced the crew, put them into that hole in his heart that Ed left. His speech to the Prince about them being family, and that you give up your wants and dreams for them, because being a pirate is bigger than any one person alone. GOD, his fucking character growth was incredible and heart-wrenching all at once.

And then to just throw all of that away, for what? To remove him as an obstacle between Ed and Stede? He already did that himself. To make the title of the show mean something (that the flag truly means Death?). That is just so fucking cheap and backhanded. Oh, Our Flag Means Death, but no one has died yet, better kill somebody; quick shoot Izzy Hands. How about you just make the word ‘death’ a symbol for change? The death of who you once were, the death of old biases, the death of toxicity and selfishness.

Because what would have been the problem with making Izzy the new captain of the Revenge, and letting Ed and Stede go off and do their thing? In the grand scheme of the narrative, why did two characters’ happy ending have to come at the cost of another’s?! It cheapens that happy ending, puts an asterisk on it. Especially when Izzy had JUST come to the realization that that crew, those people (no matter how ridiculous and soft they were) were his motherfucking family and he would do anything to protect them. He should have gotten to, and I just… I cannot forgive that. I’m not saying you can’t kill off characters, we shouldn’t expect anyone to have plot armor. But for god’s sake, at least make it make sense, give it a reason beyond shock value.

If OFMD gets a third season, I may or may not watch. It’s more than likely I won’t. And not because I don’t love the Stede/Ed story, or any of the other beautiful ones on that ship, I do. But because I’ve lost faith in the story.

#please don’t jump down my throat on this though #it’s just my opinion #you’re allowed to think differently #this is just how I feel #our flag means death #OFMD #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 spoilers #Izzy hands #stede bonnet #ed teach #Blackbeard

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thatonespriteobsessedbitch · 3 months

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TBB S3 Episodes 4+5 thoughts

ngl I had a good bit spoiled for me bc I forgot to block the spoilers tag 🤦🏻‍♀️

A Different Approach

genuinely so happy that my man is back

his voice is a little weird tho ngl

yk when the ship is sparking like that on the inside, I don't think you should be flying it

I love batcher so much

they are 100% going to be going back for the other prisoners by the end of the season, I'm calling it

not sure if I feel bad for Nala se or not

fuck hemlock fr

yeah what's up with Omega's blood sample

creepy ass city

crosshair is seriously wondering what he's gotten himself into lmaoooo

his voice is back to normal thank god lol

so fucking funny watching this 10yo try and barter with the spaceport person

FIFTEEN THOUSAND?!?!?!

PER TICKET?!?!

omg crosshair is hilarious, he's missed all of Omega's normal hijinks and he's so fucking confused

is that Bossk???

def not bossk

not the troopers

oh fuck

crosshair is freaking out back there

crosshair called Meg's dad count: 1

this captain has me stressing

fuck you

love that crosshair was about to fight a man for her

fuck not batcher

oh just punch the kid already

dad crosshair is so hot oml

babes freeing all the animals will get you caught so fast

just shoot the captain already

that "finally" did things to me 😶‍🌫️

oh omega you badass

IS THAT A FUCKING SARLACC????

I mean that's one way to deal with the captain but damn

where are they???

WRECKER!!!!!

and hunter.

I really don't like hunter tbh

"never stopped searching" but you were so willing to leave crosshair

ugh the camera angles 😫

The Return

she has Lula!!!

omg pabu is so pretty

genuinely why does crosshair, a clone of a man played by a Māori actor, whiter than I am

OH SHUT THE FUCK UP HUNTER HE HAS TRAUMA, HES HEALING, LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE

ECHO!!!

omg AZI you don't tell him his accuracy was 53% 🤣🤣🤣

does crosshair know tech is gone??

nvm he's gotta know with that reaction after echo mentions him

all of them look so pretty in the sunset

wrecker gave him his armour back 😭😭😭

HE BROUGHT THEM TO THE OUTPOST?!?!

the sound I made at crosshair in his old armour is ungodly

lay off him hunter

did batcher just find maydays body???

batchers efficient I'll give her that

not the helmets 😭😭😭😭

watch as those sensors actually did something other than warn about the raiders

I actually hate hunter

call him out babe

WHAT THE JESUS CHRIST WAS THAT

echo is eldest daughter-ing rn

BATCHER NO STAY INSIDE

can't believe the sensors actually worked

"and I don't even see any blood this time!" true sibling behavior

also the look on Omega's face as he says that 🤣🤣

I love the ice vulture symbolism with crosshair so much

#tbb spoilers #sw tbb spoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #sw tbb #the bad batch spoilers

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absurdthirst · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022: October 23rd

Day 23: Gags // Fucking Machine // Erotic Dancing

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Masterbation, mechanical sex machines, offers of payment, voyeurism, mentions of rimming, clitorial stimulation, vaginal penetration

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“What is this?” You frown when the driver actually manhandles the large box through your front door and into the house. You hadn’t ordered anything and no one ever delivered into the house anymore. Not unless a new appliance had been purchased and was set to be installed, and even then you knew about it.

The truck was nondescript, no logo on the side but you were looking over a very official freight invoice. The dolly’s wheels squeaked and the driver huffs, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “I just deliver and set them up.” He grumbles. “Instructions say to put it in the golden room.” His slightly annoyed eyes seem to hold some kind of judgment as he looks over to you. “Where’s that?”

Jesus….Dieter must have ordered something. It makes sense now and you can feel the way that your cheeks flame up and your entire body shrinks slightly under the weight of the man’s gaze. “Oh - uh, it’s-” Your hand flaps, vaguely motioning down the hall and you wonder what the fuck he had decided to buy. “I- I need to get the key.”

“Don’t they all?” He mutters it under his breath but you catch it non the less. Embarrassment burns into your entire being and you want to melt into the floor. Living in Dieter Bravo’s house while he is out of the country shooting a movie should come with emotional hazard pay on top of your generous salary and very nice living arrangements.

“I don’t- I don’t live here.” You stammer slightly as you go to the kitchen and open the drawer, pulling out the key with the large obnoxious tag on it. Etched into the metal ‘Golden Showers’ is emblazoned in Dieter’s attempt at humor. You didn’t find it all that funny.

“Just open the room.” You’re sure he doesn’t care. Has probably heard it all, but you are going to fucking kill Dieter when he gets off set and answers your phone calls. If he answers and if he’s sober enough to care. Which isn’t likely.

It takes you a moment, never opening this door since you’ve been shown the damn room. You know the maid that comes by once a week goes in to dust but you have steered away from the room that Dieter had designed himself.

Cursing under your breath at the way you fumble with the lock, the handle finally turns and you can’t even look at the man as it swings open, jumping out of the way. “I- I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need anything.” You mumble, fleeing so you don’t have to witness the man’s reaction to the fucking sex room your boss had behind the very average looking door.

****

Of course he didn’t answer your texts. Although, to be fair, it was around the time that he would be getting done shooting for the day. If they weren’t having to reshoot scene after scene again. He’s called a few times and complained about the script, the dumbass director, the cast, the weird rules they have in place. All while high, so you think it might just be Dieter whining.

Whatever that delivery man is doing, it’s taking a long time. Still, you don’t want to see the array of toys Dieter has on display, smirking when he told you it was his answer to the 50 Shades of Grey Red Room. Golden paint walls and black display cabinets housing toys of every shape and size, some of them ridiculous and even creature based. Apparently Dieter bought anything and everything that caught his interest.

You huff to yourself, trying to ignore the sounds of something being unboxed and set up. Whatever it was, it was big, heavy from the grunts and muffled curses you pretend not to hear. Focusing on making a very normal dinner for yourself, or at least get it started to simmer. You had learned that Dieter’s pots and pans - while top quality - were mainly for show. He didn’t cook and you were enjoying using them.

“I’m done.” You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear the man speak, turning to find him in the doorway holding a clipboard with the dolly next to him. You hadn’t even heard him approach while you were cooking down the peppers and onions. “Do you want a demonstration?”

Even if you were curious, there is no way you would survive having someone explain whatever contraption Dieter ordered so you quickly shake your head. “No, um, I’ll just- I’ll let the owner figure it out when he comes back.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you, but you’re relieved that he just shrugs and hands you the clipboard to sign off on the order. Quickly scrawling your signature on the highlighted line, you don’t even look at the description - it’s not your business.

“Uh, thanks.” You murmur, starting to walk him towards the front of the house and trying to ignore the way you feel like he’s judging you. It’s not your - whatever it is - and you shouldn’t feel ashamed of that.

He grunts and when the door is opened and the dolly is outside, he turns to give you a small smirk. “Enjoy.”

God, you’re going to fucking kill Dieter Bravo.

****

“It’s there?” You wince, the phone yanked away from your ear at the over enthusiastic burst of noise that comes from the speaker instead of a normal greeting.

“Hello to you too.” You grumble, cautiously bringing the phone closer. “Yes, it’s here. Even though I don’t know what it is.”

Dieter tuts and within five seconds there is a beeping on your phone making you look at the screen. He’s FaceTiming you. You roll your eyes but accept it, knowing he will whine and complain if you don’t and you see the excitement in his eyes as he grins at the screen. “Hey sexy, show me.” He demands.

He’s called you sexy from the first time he met you, actually propositioning you even though you were there for a fucking job interview. Although it hasn't affected you getting the job, obviously. He had taken your rejection in stride and didn’t hold it over you like some would, but the nickname stuck.

You let him see your rolled eyes this time, huffing dramatically even though you are already heading to the drawer to pull out the key again, making him snicker as you turn your camera around and he sees the keychain. He can be so immature sometimes but you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“So did they show you how it works, I mean, I’ve seen the videos, but they left the instruction manual right? It’s pretty easy, the easiest one.” He rambles, making you wonder what the fuck he had bought.

When the door swings open, it’s a contest to see who gasps louder, you or Dieter. You think that surprise might push you over the edge but his excitement is clear through the speaker of your phone.

It’s a fucking machine. You’ve seen one in pornos before, browsing through them and landing on a video that sent you down a rabbit hole of filth. Intimidating looking with differing arms and attachments that are all displayed, your face burns in complete embarrassment at the thought of that man giving you a demonstration of the toy. No wonder he had smirked at you, not believing that this was not yours.

“Why - Dieter, I don’t-” You don’t finish the statement, completely confused as to why he would buy a fucking machine.

“Sometimes you just need a tongue in your ass.” Dieter chirps, almost giggly as you keep the phone steady and he looks at the top of the line machine he had purchased when he was high off his ass and tired of jerking off. This thing would do everything he could ever dream of, including sucking his cock - so it had been worth the pricetag.

That’s a mental image. Especially with the revolving tongues that are on a belt, obviously meant to provide continuous licking against whatever body part you strap on the bench in front of it. The fact that there were still more arms for toys shouldn’t make your cunt bottom out on itself but it does. Making you squeeze your thighs together at the thought. You could never afford something like this, but it makes your wand look pitifully inadequate.

“-will you?” You shake your head, not hearing a word Dieter was saying while you were absorbing all the possibilities of a machine like this.

“What?”

“Demonstrate.” He huffs out, obviously repeating himself. “So I know it works? How good it is?”

“What? Absolutely not.”

****

Five thousand dollars. Apparently that was your price to demonstrate the toy. Stripped down and biting your lip as you set up the phone on a tripod, you want to change your mind but you don’t. He had offered you five thousand dollars on top of what he normally paid you. All to try out a fucking machine and tell him how it is while he watches.

“Are you going to use the tongue thing? Use the tongue thing. And a toy. Whatever one you want. They are all clean.” You listen to Dieter babble through the phone, still pointed away from you while you gather the nerve to set out in front of it and let him see you.

“Fuck.” You don’t know if that breathy sound is from him seeing you naked or something on his end and you don’t really want to know. Instead you pick up the bottle of lube and the attachments that had come with the device so you can get them slicked up. Knowing that you are going to need a little bit of extra lube because of how nervous you are. Even if you feel like you are dripping wet. Performance anxiety was a bitch and this is letting Dieter fucking Bravo be a voyeur while you get fucked by his machine.

“I’m going to use this one.” You hold it up and glance at your phone just to see Dieter’s head bobble like one of those toys as he agrees. Turning back to get it put on the arm and slicked up before you take a deep breath and lay down on the bench.

Fuck, this thing has restraints, another two arms to hold a wand, practially anything that you can think of - it’s got. Your stomach clenches at the idea of using this with a partner. Even Dieter, although you quickly close your eyes and try to think about anyone other than your boss. This was just a demonstration.

For the mechanical parts, the machine is silent, turning on with a soft whirl and you hold the remote up to press the buttons. “Shit.” You accidentally press the wrong one and a wrong arm starts pushing forward. “Okay, uh, here we go.”

You feel the cool silicone on your clit while you are on your stomach, suspended over the rotating tongues before you press the button. Making you moan as it starts to move, the rotating belt slapping the slick tongues against your clit slowly before you edge the speed up.

You hear Dieter groan, the words low and muffled by the sound of your own body. Ears filled with the white noise of pleasure already, body jerking from the way that the pressure is almost constant. No one could replicate this, not at the steady pace of a machine.

Instantly you keen when the next button is pressed, the toy that was butted up against your cunt pushing deep, making your upper body lift up at the sensation of being filled so easily. Experimenting with the speed by taking it up one level past your comfort zone and then bringing it back down with a panted curse.

Forgetting everything but the way that your body feels, you don’t hear Dieter telling you to open your eyes. Don’t acknowledge the way he is praising you, telling that it looks fucking hot or that he’s going to jerk off watching you. The idea that this is a demonstration fades away until it is just about chasing your pleasure while the steady rotation of the arms and pistons of the machine continue to whirl.

You don’t look at him, the phone, don’t hear the bitten off curse as he pulls his cock out and spits into his hand. Your moans drown out his own, nearly whining while the machine constantly bombards you with pleasure until it’s nearly painful.

Hours pass, or maybe it’s minutes. You can’t tell as your entire body rides on the edge of an orgasm so long that you think your legs are going to shake off. The plunging of the dildo into your pussy in perfect synchronization with the tongues and you feel tears leak out of the side of your eyes as you cry out.

It’s devastating when you cum. Blinding and overwhelming to the point where your blood roars in your ears and you heave as you try to move away from the machine, quickly pushed to overstimulation and fumbling for the remote so you can shut it off. Unaware that Dieter had just cried out your name while spilling ropes of cum over his hand and thighs.

Panting after everything goes still and your body continues to shake. The fucking machine was worth every damn penny Dieter had paid for it.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo the bubble

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hueofvesta · 2 years

Text

tags - [nsfw] female-bodied reader (feminine tones), food play / kink? (whipped cream on boobs), making out, minor dry humping, + pervy?itto being goofy

notes - a “spur-of-the-moment” writing with lowercase capitalization intended, pov tones shifting randomly, & not proofread. i don’t have consistent writing, one part could be simple and the next would be a poor shakespeare-wannabe segment <: there's a part two to this.

– itto x fem!reader

“this day couldn’t get any hotter.” itto complained. you gave a tired nod in return as you sat back onto the canopy beach chair, your third ice cream of the day in-hand. the sun was beating down on the beach like there was no tomorrow, you and your boyfriend felt like sausages on a skillet.

“i told you we should’ve went to a ski resort instead,”

“and i remember tellin’ you that i don’t know how to ski babe.”

“you could’ve learned while we were there.” you grumbled, shooting itto a look. he only shrugged in return, debating to himself if he should continue swimming in the waters or stay put on his chair… staring at the way you consumed the dessert you bought.

he has been discreetly fixated on you for a while, ever since you bought your first ice cream today actually. itto would be lying if he said that he wasn’t turned on by you innocently swirling your tongue around the delectable treat. his girlfriend, you, was just there enjoying something to push off the day’s heat.

and here is itto, thinking about how good you’d feel around his cock. oh how much of a perv he was,

that skillful mouth muscle that has danced on his tip so many times, more than he can count; he would give anything just to have you suck the soul out of him. the way you’d look up at him with those pretty doey eyes, the way your warm mouth slowly went back and forth on him, the way your velvety lips took him in so easily and worked their magic in bringing him to absolute euphoria.

“babe...hey…” “earth to arataki itto..” “ITTO!”

“sWHAT- HUH–!” itto jumped up from his chair, alarmed yet in a daze as his head frantically swerves from left to right. you hold on to his shoulders which places his attention on you.

“baby, you’ve been drooling for a while and you seemed so out of it, are you okay?” you ask, worry laced on your face and itto taking that queue to wipe off the spit that has gathered on the corner of his lips. itto’s hazy expression transitioned into his usual (but somewhat awkward) flamboyant smile, placing a hand around your waist, the other scratching his head as he lets out a sheepish laugh.

“i-i’m fine darlin’, it’s just the heat gettin’ to me ya’ know…” itto was praying to the archons above for you not to feel the dent that was beginning to stain his trunks (and spoilers: you did).

his eyes kept darting back and forth on your lips that had some specks of the vanilla ice cream you consumed and to your boobs smooshed against his abdomen. “let’s return to our room then, it’s starting to annoy me too,” you agreed with itto, pulling out from his embrace.

the both of you scrambled to gather your things, hurrying through the hotel entrance and finally crashing within the confines of your room. itto settled himself on the couch, arms laid on the back pillows, and a damp towel placed over his face that would hopefully calm him down for the time being.

you told him you would be going to the bathroom to freshen up but little did he know…

itto then felt something settling on his lap, that something being you with your legs stradling his hips. you could feel him and he could feel you, and he was HARD.

“b-babe what are you–?!”

“you really think i wouldn’t notice? for shame itto, for shame,” you teased him, taking hold of his arms and circling them around your waist. you felt him freeze for a moment as you took off the cloth from his face, unveiling a severely flushed arataki itto who was probably one kiss away from losing it.

you giggled, cupping his cheeks tenderly as you gave him a peck on the lips. itto lets out a groan, freeing himself from your hands and lowering his head towards your chest and laying down on it. “the things you do to me, you are evil baby.”

“i love you.” you cooed, gazing down on him with a smile. he looks up at you, pushing himself upwards towards your face. “i love you too.”

those were his last words before the both of you locked lips in what seemed to be an endearing kiss-turned-makeout session within the first few seconds. the pace was quick and the tension was high, he was gliding against your body in fervor, never being the one to initiate a breather. his tongue slid over your upper lip in which you took as a que to open your mouth for him to enter. itto pulled against your tongue, your salivas churning in together as you shivered at the feeling of drool sliding down your chin.

as this went on, your body subtly began bouncing on him with your clothed entrance being painted with slick from the gathered pre-cum on his trunks, causing you to shudder and grip onto him tight. itto was rocking into you in return as you rode him, his hands settling on your ass, occasionally groping ang giving one of the cheeks a slap or two. he was just holding back the urge to rip off your panties then and there and take you on the spot.

the continued kissing was fierce and long, one that caused your lips to be swollen yet left wanting for more. you pulled away, breathless and overwhelmed in the moment. just as itto was about to initiate another kiss, you place a hand on his shoulder and tightened your grip.

he backed away, turning your face towards him, all red and panting endlessly.

“ ’m sorry baby, are you okay? let’s stop?” he asked, somewhat in the same state as you but he was far from satisfied. he was willing to end this right now if you felt uncomfortable but you shook your head, closing your eyes as you took hold of his hand and guided it to your left breast. he gave it a squeeze and you let out a whimper.

“oh– ‘m sorry, your lips were just so delicious,” he chuckled hoarsely “forgot to give attention to the rest of’ ya.” he was now palming your breast, internally marvelling at the way the pliant flesh molded against his hand.

itto’s mouth latched onto your jaw, peppering it with chaste kisses while making his way towards your neck. it had remnants of previous lovebites from your last lovemaking session and your boyfriend was excited to leave new ones. he was going to make sure everybody in the world knows who you belong to.

–

you were a mewling mess above him, fingers pulling and curling against his hair. each hickey done made you tug on your boyfriend harder and itto was heavily enjoying the fact that HE was the one making you like this. of course, he wasn’t unreciprocated as you continued to bounce and grind against him, itto bucking up against you in between kisses which causes you to suddenly let out gasps of pleasure. he’d groan how good you feel against him and mumble against your skin, the vibrations doubling the goodness you felt from his ministrations.

“ ‘to so good, s-so good.. so close..” you squeaked out. it wasn’t even the main course yet you were already close to your release.

“not yet,” itto muttered, having untied your bikini top from its place and letting the article of clothing fall to the floor as your perky nipples stood hard under his gaze. from there, he continued massaging your left breast with one hand, the other holding onto your waist firmly to stop you from grinding against his hard-on.

“ ‘tooooo, please,” you whined, tugging hardly on his hair while attempting to return to your bouncing. you were close, so, so close, but itto didn’t want to let you come now. no, not yet.

he gave your nipple a single lick, looking up at you for a second before beginning to suck on it. his tongue swirled around your bud so expertly, just as he does whenever you fucked; itto knew you loved feeling your breasts being stretched and pulled at. having him treat them like they’re gum or stressballs, yeah you loved that.

“g’na fuck a baby into you and make these tits spit out milk, yeah?”

you could only bite back a loud moan in response as itto pulled your nipple with a particularly long stretch. your other breast didn’t go unnoticed as he squeezed the knocker tenderly while his fingers flicked and rolled your sensitive bud.

under his touch, you couldn’t do anything but just melt.

then, itto gets an idea.

he pulls away which earns him whimper from you at the lost of contact and that tugs at his heart, prompting him to give you a quick kiss on the lips before slowly shifting you to lay on the couch with your legs still laced around his waist, attempting to grind on him.

“baby?” you ask in a daze with spit-slicked lips and eyes of intense arousal. itto swears you looked like a goddess sprawled out below him, just waiting to be taken and broken to the core. he gives you a sly smile, one arm going over the table right beside the couch to reach for the whipped cream he bought the night prior.

“ ‘yer g’na feel good.” was what he simply said before taking off the aerosol’s cap, shaking it for a few seconds before positioning the valve a few inches away from your right boob’s nipple. that’s when you finally understood what he was going to do and you weren’t quite sure if you were going to like it. itto pushes down the nozzle to dispense the whipped cream, the sweet paste coming into contact with your skin which made you shiver at the feeling.

once the cream was situated on your boob like an ice cream of the sorts did he stop and place away the bottle. he was licking his lips and congratulating himself for this one-of-a-kind idea, a short chuckle reverating from his body which has you questioningly looking at him and he catches your gaze, throwing you a proud smile.

itto starts off his present assault by leaving kisses surrounding your cream-covered tit, slowly progressing upwards and following the swirl’s direction with shallow licks, teasing. each push of the paste stimulated your sensitive bud, earning him gasps from your lips at the unfamiliar feeling of this sticky pleasure. you were squirming endlessly below him and he found that so adorable. he pulls away from your breast with cream all over his lips and specks on his cheeks, like a fed toddler did he look like. itto’s licking distorted the cream’s outer appearance but there was still a good amount of it left.

and that’s when he dove in, mouth wide open as he took in the entire portion of cream in one go which mooshes it onto your nipple like a sort of lube — the friction caused by the paste around the bud as itto sucked on it caused you to jolt upwards to him, hands gripping tightly on his shoulders, feeling a new type of pleasure, something you’ve never felt before. you were squirming, rubbing your thighs together to have some simulation on your pussy while itto worked on your breast.

“ ‘to, itto… fuck—! oh…” he feasted on the fruit of his idea as if he didn’t consume four milkshakes in the prior hour. itto’s tongue pulls on your nipple as he consumes the cream from the crevices, occasionally chewing down and biting on the bud with the melted paste flowing onto his tongue as if you were giving him milk.

yes, this was itto’s glorious idea. and he was right about you feeling good because this just…

“co–coming..! ooh-” you squealed out, feeling the tightening knot of your stomach coming undone and snapping in a second. your juices dampened your already-wet bottom even more, some of the slick sticking onto your boyfriend’s abdomen which was laying right above your pulsing cunt. you were panting from your release and itto’s endless suckling on your nipple, he raised his head and only clicked his tongue in response to your orgasm as he brooded over the fact that he wasn’t able to drink up your essence. what a waste. but whatever makes you feel good.

once there was little to no visible whipped cream left on your boob, itto looms up towards your face, all sweaty and flushed, and archons, he thought you looked so heavenly. your lips collide once again in a feverish kiss with one arm lazily wrapped around his head, weakly tugging at his hair.

“baby pleasee…” you whined as soon as itto pulls away from your lips with a droopy string of saliva. he gives you a hazy smile before trailing sloppy kisses down your abdomen, stopping right above the ribbon of your bikini panty. he gave the surface an agonizing lick, your legs shivering from the pleasure his gesture made you feel. itto himself was jolted by the way your juices exquisitely danced on his tongue, nothing could compare to how you taste to him.

“yummy, as always. but ya’ won’t be needing this anymore” itto exclaims as he pulls down your last article of clothing with his teeth. you were now bare in front of your boyfriend, something not really new to either of you but itto always finds himself ogling at your figure. he wonders how he was able to bag himself a creature like you, so perfect, so dreamy, so heavenly. you could feel his gaze heavy on you and it gave your pussy tingles.

“beautiful.” he breathes out, eyes skipping down to your glistening kitty.

you won’t be leaving the bed until tomorrow.

#୧ *·˚ 🌷#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #smut #genshin x you #itto x reader #itto smut #arataki itto #arataki itto x reader #itto #itto thirst #genshin impact x reader

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myreia · 4 months

Text

wip wednesday

tagged by @lilas! 💖 tagging @galadae, @coldshrugs, @roguelioness, @tsunael, @hylfystt, @birues, @bearlytolerant, @a-shakespearean-in-paris and anyone else who would like to share a thing they're working on!

slamming down a part of chapter 2 from the thing consuming me, bye.

Shadowbringers, 5.3. and Eden spoilers below the cut:

“How is she?” Thancred asks quietly. He tilts his head, his nose brushing her hair as he kisses the top of her head. Above the grey-purple clouds surge, growing darker by the second. She can taste rain on the air. A shiver of anticipation rolls down her spine; it won’t be long before the storm comes.

Aureia tightens her grip on him, her fingers toying with the fabric of his smock. A long, plain thing, more robe than shirt—the kind Krile insisted they wear during recovery. It’s loose, hanging off his atrophied body like a tent. He must be freezing beneath it. “You’re worried,” she remarks.

“Should I not be? Is that no longer allowed now that I am on the Source?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“…I know.”

She pauses, chewing her lower lip. She has gone back to the Crystarium once since the soul transfer and only for a night. She returned this morning, keen not to leave Thancred on his own for too long. Though she can’t bring herself to voice it—it feels wrong to complain, considering the Scions’ deteriorating states and the desperate lengths G’raha took to ensure safe passage—her heart aches at how her family is separated by parallel dimensions. Ryne on one side, Thancred and Urianger on the other. They had something precious on the First, if only for a few moons. It was never meant to last.

She will hold those memories close to her heart forever.

“She’s well,” Aureia says finally. “Preoccupied with Eden’s restoration. Throwing herself into her work as a distraction—not unlike someone I know.”

His lips twitch. “Please, Aur, must you? I am already wounded.”

“All the more reason to take the shot.” She glances at him and finds him glaring at her. It’s not a real glare—behind the dark look and mock exasperation is a knowing smile. “She’s taken full reign of the apartment. Mess everywhere. Looks like a tempest went through the place.”

“Far too easy to imagine that.”

“I don’t know where she gets it from.”

“Oh, I know for certain. That's the influence of your bad habits, not mine—”

“I—listen here, you ass—”

“Oh, an ass, am I? Bit early to deteriorate to name calling, no?”

She flushes and grimaces, annoyed at the way he turned it around on her. He shoots her a grin and rests his head against hers, an affectionate hum rumbling in the back of his throat.

“Gaia’s with her,” she continues. “Staying at the apartment in our old room. She’s got quite the mouth on her. Complains night and day, but I think it’s a front. She’s enjoying herself more than she lets on.”

He pauses, his brows drawing together. “Hm. Odd girl, that one.”

“I don’t think she’s odd at all.”

“No?”

“I think she’s scared. When you’re accustomed to solitude, the alternative can be terrifying. There is fear in realizing that—for the first time in your life—you are no longer alone.” She catches his eye. “Particularly when a stubborn someone insists on being your friend no matter how many times you tell them no.”

He smiles, a faint flush on his cheeks. “Ryne’s horizons shouldn’t be confined to us gnarly old fools. Nor should Gaia’s, for that matter. It is good they are friends, no?”

“I suspect there may be more to it than that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he says quietly. “Well, then. All this in a single moon?”

She swallows hard. “Thancred… It’s been three for her.”

His face pales, his laughter vanishes. The corners of his mouth tighten and he looks away, running a hand over the rough scruff on his chin. “I… see,” he murmurs.

The weary acceptance in his voice makes her heart pang. Once he would have contested the facts, defiantly pursuing hypotheses and theories until another option was found. He has never been one to accept the truth at face value; there is always something underneath, always another secret. But now those tendencies are changing. He is changing. Perhaps it’s his age, perhaps it’s fatherhood, perhaps it’s his experiences on the First, but where once he would deny the truth, now he accepts and moves on, no matter how much it hurts.

And the painful truth is that time is displaced between the Source and the First. Though they mirror each other like partners in a dance, they are never fully in step. Ryne could live the next stages of her life in the blink of an eye. He knew this when he said his goodbyes to her—that it was unlikely they would ever seen each other again, and if they did a decade or more could pass in the interim. She would never again be the daughter he knew.

He has accepted this. He has to. He gains nothing from looking back. It is the bittersweet truth of their lives—parenthood happened so quickly, they had only come to understand what it meant as soon as it was time to lose it.

Aureia does not dare trouble him with her thoughts on the subject, not while he is recovering. Perhaps one day he can return, but for now travel between shards remains an impossibility for anyone besides herself. Though she and Y’shtola are fervent in their decision to research it, they cannot give him false hope. Even if they found the key, there is still the matter of the time displacement. Her first night back, she dreamed it had grown so severe that Ryne was several years their senior by the time Thancred returned. It was an odd dream, the kind formed from unfounded anxieties and fears. But she is not certain it is an impossibility.

She will have to ask G’raha about it.

“I’m sorry,” Thancred says after a moment. “I didn’t intend to be so… well. Morose, one could say.” He sighs deeply, gazing upwards at the clouded sky. “They say fresh air does the invalid some good, but I suspect someone must be lying. I hardly feel improved after that hells of a climb.”

“It’s all right. Rushing yourself will do no good. Take your time.”

“That is the problem, no? I have no time to take, not compared to...” He stops himself, but she hears it on his tongue. The others. He glances at her, his jaw clenching. His frustration is palpable. “There were nights in Norvrandt when I dreamed of nothing but returning to my body. When your being is formed of your soul alone, it changes you. The differences are subtle—I suspect the mind plays a role, filtering out the inconsistencies as a coping mechanism—but they are present. I felt intangible at first. Like a fabrication.”

She presses her lips together, hesitant to interrupt. He needs to tell her this.

“But now, reformed as I am, as I should be… It feels wrong, Aur. There’s a heftiness to my step, an ache in my bones. It is not simply this godsdamned weariness, it is everything that has come along with it. The air is too heavy. The light too bright. The world too unnatural. This time it is the Source that does not feel real. I thought I would feel like myself once again upon our return, but instead I find myself hollow.”

He inhales a shaky breath and closes his eyes. “It is not simply the people I miss, but the land. The cities. The settlements. The flow of the rivers and the breath of the wind. Seven hells, I even miss the taste of the food. It was more vibrant, more…” He trails off. “Well. Such is the way of things. Always yearning for what you can no longer have. I will adjust in due course. I’m certain Raulf and Anzu have cooked up an incomparable feast. Soup, you said it was?”

She rests her head on his shoulder. “Soup, yes.”

Thancred chuckles. “Listen to me. Complaining in my old age. I should be… content, should I not? We accomplished what we set out to do. We said our goodbyes and that is that.”

Aureia shakes her head. “You’re not complaining.”

“I—”

“You’re not. It’s been six years. Any well-adjusted person would grieve what they left behind after that long.”

“Well-adjusted?” He kisses the top of her head again. “And what about those for whom adjustment is on shaky ground on any given day?”

“You’re allowed to grieve. It’s not a bad thing. It’s called homesickness.”

He pauses. “…aye. Yes. I suppose that is what it is, isn’t it?”

#ffxiv #ffxiv fic #aureia malathar #writing tag #shadowbringers spoilers

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chemistryread · 2 years

Text

e.m.

she's not you.

disclaimers/tags: female reader. angsty. no triangle, just jealousy. no spoilers.

i want to make a sequel to this, conclude the story, lmk your thoughts pretty please <3

“you broke her heart. you know that, right?”

“well, she told me she didn’t have one. so, it’s hardly my faul-“

“get serious, eddie. you really want me to believe you don’t care?”

“i don’t.”

“okay. she does. she would never say it, but i know.”

“how would you know, henderson?”

“well she’s been hanging out with a steve a lot, and when - not like that - when i talk about you, steve rolls his eyes but she gets stiff, and she sighs. her eyes get cold and she wrings her fingers together like your name is a curse she’s still under. which i think speaks louder than steve’s reaction.”

————————/-/-

later, when the day is over, dustin rejects eddie’s offer for a ride.

“don’t need one, thanks though.”

and he runs off to that same old car.

he sees you on the passenger seat, playing with the radio.

who could imagine you, out of everyone he used to know, would get the privilege to dictate the music playing in steve harrington’s ride. does he like your picks? do you change your taste for him if he doesn’t? does he change his for you?

a smile shines on your face, directed at both boys, before you speed off and he finally climbs inside the van.

—————/-/——

friday, wheeler and henderson manage to get under his skin before he’s even sat down to eat.

“i’m just saying we should it give it a chance, one party doesn’t change who we are deep down, essentially.”

dustin emphasizes the last word, connecting his index and thumb’s fingertips for theatrics.

“a party?”

mike’s obnoxious helmet he calls hair shakes when he jumps at eddie’s sudden appearance at the lunch table. dustin keeps his head down, apprehensive.

he ponders if he ever really gave them reason to be this intimidated outside of D&D afternoons.

“uhm, yeah, well.” he stutters, spit it wheeler. “y/n invited us to this party.”

“more of a get together, she said” the other kid tries to smooth things over, kicking his pale friend in the shin.

“alcohol?” a lot of it, and not for us, steve’s words. “harrington’s gonna be there?” i mean, it’s for former seniors. robin’s going too.

his head is spinning with possibilities. mostly the grotesque visual of you dancing with steve to some brainless pop-y song.

mike is rambling about how he told nancy she can’t go, she’s been to enough of them and to think of jonathan. he got slapped in the arm for that.

“fine, i’ll chaperone.” he’s used to it, but many pairs of eyes shoot up at him, surprised. “if your sister’s not going, someone has to make sure you two don’t steal a can of miller lite to share and end up puking warm beer for the whole night.”

“one can? put a little faith- okay, got it. so you’re driving us?”

shit, he regrets it already.

———————-/-/——

with a swift move, eddie closes the van’s door after the two boys jump out. he’s trying to build up false confidence (no hope for the real thing), even though he can taste the bile in his throat.

he’s been to a party or two before, crashing into some punk kids’ houses, following the crowd after a small local concert.

this is different. these people know him, if they remember him.

walking up to the open door, a couple of kids smoking outside are already pointing at him.

he throws them a look. he’s not violent, but they don’t know that.

turning around, walking backwards and talking to the strangely relaxed boys, he grabs them by the shoulders.

“i’m gonna circle, if anyone bothers you, find me.” they seem very uninterested, not concerned. puffing his chest out, eddie continues. “oh, and this does not make you men. not yet. monday, you’re still gonna be the insufferable little idiots who keep tripping on their own shoelaces. remember that.”

god, he hopes no one inside saw him do the finger guns.

stepping in, more people give him a side eye, but most look away and pay him no mind.

without his shadows following suit, he feels a little clumsy. definitely out of his element.

sniffling and tugging his leather jacket closer, he walks to the kitchen to find something to drink.

the bodies filling up the small space don’t lend him way, and he’s not scared to push, earning some glares. he shrugs, mumbling an apology.

at the end of the room, there’s finally some space to breathe.

eddie snaps a beer can out of the package, hesitating to open it, noticing it’s definitely been sitting there for a while.

pouting, his eyes look around to see if anyone else is drinking these.

instead, he immediately finds you.

you’re hanging out with steve and robin buckley, leaning on a wall.

the former’s got one arm next to your head, gesturing.

a year ago, that same move would’ve nauseated you and angered eddie. half of that is not the same anymore.

there’s some other people surrounding you in a circle, but you seem more interested in what the boy-who-used-to-be-king is saying, laughing so hard the red cup leaves the grip from your teeth and you bend down.

a whole body laugh. you look goofy, genuinely enjoying yourself.

if dustin was here, eddie would talk about not missing when he was the one getting giggles out of you. the way you would be looking just at him. smile spreading through your entire face, reaching your eyes, which were crinkled and he’d kiss the lines sweetly.

oh, no, he doesn’t miss any of that.

he stared for too long and got caught, the short haired freckle-faced girl nudging you and singling him out in the kitchen.

your eyes meet, and he drops the can on the floor, spraying beer everywhere. he just might be everyone’s favorite person in this party!

when he comes back up to set the dented aluminium back on the counter, you’re there.

smiling.

“what are you doing here?”

your tone is friendly, but in a ‘good cop’ type of way. it’s inquisitive.

“hello to you too, darling. i was invited.”

“by mike and dustin?” you challenge. god, your eyes are so sexy when you know he’s lying. “here, don’t drink that.”

your fingers brush with his, taking the can off his hands.

like you’ve been here before, you stretch up to grab two red cups from the file on the top shelf. spinning, he can’t see what you pour into them.

turning back, you’re already sipping from yours and handing the other one to him.

you’re watching.

eyes locked, he gulps down the liquid without checking its color first. the burning is refreshing to his accustomed throat, chuckling at your pick.

to his delight, you laugh along with him.

“it’s steve’s dad’s bourbon. nice, huh?”

now he coughs. “this is harrington’s place?”

you step into his personal space.

(he’s glad to be wearing perfume. something old he bought a long time ago at the mall.)

whispering in his ear, “and you just deliberately walked in.”

pulling back, you’re grinning in his face. he rolls his eyes but follows when you nod for him to anyways.

going through a sliding door, eddie glances back at his two former classmates, curiously observing. robin’s arms are crossed, but she’s half smiling, knowingly. steve’s arm is still leaning against the wall, but his lips are pursed and his stare is cold. he doesn’t seem too happy.

————-/-/——

out in the backyard, the two of you sit on the rusty swings.

“you don’t feel weird inviting two freshmen to your adult party?”

“don’t you feel weird being friends with two freshmen when you’re nearing twenty?”

touché.

“they’ve never been to one. it’s best if their first is where we can keep an eye on them. it’s steve’s house and we’re all here. no one’s getting shitfaced. it’s easy.” eddie never thought he’d hear you call a house party with these people easy. “plus, i told dustin i’d share my shotgun and radio privileges in the car if mike and him don’t touch any alcohol or drugs. it’s under control. i don’t think they’re gonna like this too much either way, so-”

“sorry, but to hear you talk about him so casually is very trippy.”

eddie laughs, but it’s not as natural as he intended. it’s petty.

he’s not looking, but he can tell your face is contorting into something akin to disappointment.

why ruin the mood, munson?

well, because it’s what he does.

“why are you really here?”

a long swig of bourbon, and he answers truthfully.

“to check up on you. make sure you’re not making any mistakes.”

bitterness scapes your lips. “and what would that look like? a mistake.”

“let’s see, he’s got needlessly tall hair and eagle-like eyebrows-”

“jesus, eddie.”

of course he’s embarrassed to be this childish in front of you, but he’ll consider it atonement.

“i just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

your scoff is impetuous, gasping in disbelief.

it takes a second, but you come back strong, voice unwavering.

“a little too late, don’t you think? unless, you mean that type of thing is reserved for you. in which case, showing up here to guarantee it was the right move.”

his chest tightens, fingers balling into fists and breathing deep.

“i said sorry.”

“and i’m trying to be your friend." you sound so sick of him, it crushes him. “but it’s hard when you’re acting like this.”

“jesus christ, i don’t want to be your friend, isn’t that obvious?” he’s up now, pacing in front of you, ignoring your hurt stare. “i- i- i miss you. the way things were. i fucked up, i know but-”

“you said her name, eddie.”

his heart sinks remembering the moment. rings scratch his eyelids when he rubs them, trying to fight the memory off.

“it was just an accident, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“you said her name. it means something. that you were thinking about her, wishing it was her. it means ‘you’re not good enough’.”

no, no, it’s not at all like that.

it was so stupid.

maybe then, he couldn’t see what he had right in front of him. too obsessed with a crush on the cute cheerleader who was living her own life without remembering they ever met.

but he’s learned from it. chrissy is not who he wants, she’s not even a thought. she is but a fond memory of purer naive days. he was a kid.

you have always been better than what he deserved.

the words choke in his throat, and he can’t let them out.

so you get up, walking past him.

“you should go. mike and dustin will be fine.”

just like that, you disappear back inside.

he chugs the rest of his drink, getting in his van and slapping the steering wheel repeatedly.

now he had to go to home alone, having made a fool out of himself again, and try not to think about steve harrington being the shoulder you’d cry on.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #mike wheeler

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sharkneto · 1 year

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I just browsed through your anti-mcu tag and now am filled with fury (at disney ofc, not you)👍🏼

god it's so disappointing. i genuinely loved the mcu movies and all of that back in their heyday - captain america until... hmmm, antman? maybe? i was a big fan. yeah there were some clunkers in there, but overall they felt fun and i liked the characters.

and then they just ran it into the fucking ground. i feel like them introducing spiderman was the real turning point for me (tom holland is a great peter parker, i just don't like how they've written him/what they've done with the character and that's not his fault. why is he a tiny tony stark why did they do that put him back in his natural habitat of broke normal teen). i'm all for different interpretations of characters, but it felt like that was the point where i realized "oh, they don't care, do they". and then it was a long slide from there, with the final straw being goddamn Endgame (fuck that movie, it's so bad, i'm still angry about it).

the most frustrating thing is how avoidable the slide was. they got too greedy, reached to fast, were more worried about setting up their next movie than making the movie you're currently watching good. on top of that, their insane rate of release and how unplanned all their shit is exasperates how shit they treat their animators, plus their ridiculous fear of spoilers so they treat their actors like shit. if your movie is going to fall apart because of One Single Spoiler, maybe write a better movie???? just a suggestion

it's absolutely insane. marvel really should have been the cashcow that kept on giving forever, but they milked it too hard and still haven't stopped and we're all begging them to either give the cow a break or shoot the damn cow and put it out of its misery, but here we are getting a new marvel movie every month and people are still going to them and making them shitloads of money. it's exhausting

i'm willing to watch bad movies, i don't mind bad movies (Venom, my fucking beloved), but i'm not going to enjoy bad movies that don't have any passion to them and actively make people's lives worse. if you're exploiting people to this degree and you're still turning out shit, what's the fucking point

#i miss being excited for superhero movies #i really do #i love the characters!#i still use the avengers as backup immediate characters and plot device when i'm daydreaming stories in my head #to fill time and i'm not working on plotting actual fic #those early days of superhero movies were so much fun #x-men and the original spideys #maybe one day animators will get a union and they can strike and then it will make marvel take a step back #and they will slow down and actually give their actors entire scripts and let them act together on actual sets instead of greenscreen #and we'll get a good movie again #before anyone comes at me i know a few have been good #i hear black panther 2 was very good #but we all know the overall trajectory and what's been put out has been Not Good #stop trying to tie everythign together and just let a self contained story happen! i'm begging!#anti mcu #ask response

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roostersmustache · 2 years

Text

The Hard Deck III (Sneak Peek)

Pairing: Rooster x Bisexual Female O.C.

Author's Note: Honestly I'm blown away over the love I have received for this fic. When I posted my first fic on the other blog I have, it didn't receive nearly as much attention, and I almost gave up. but here we are, a year later, and I'm soooo grateful! I hope this next chapter can live up to the other parts, so please give me feedback! I adore it! Thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy. This is not the first or last part of this series! Make sure you read parts one and two before this one!!

Synopsis: In which Charley is still dreaming about her previous night with a certain aviator, but this certain aviator is having issues with her father.

Warnings: Mentions of an age gap, swearing, sexual tension, slight sexual themes (nothing too crazy yet), mentions of an abusive relationship, possible TGM spoilers, and as per usual, some sexy aviators. Bradley is 35 and O.C. is 25.

Word Count: 3.7k

This is just the sneak peek, no tag list on this one!

Part One Part Two

As the movie was coming to an end, she heard the lock in the front door, her eyes going wide and shooting off of the couch. "Shit shit shit shit," she said, pacing back and forth.

"What?" Bradley asked, sitting up and giving her a concerned look.

"Penny's home. And my dad brought her home."

At this revelation, Bradley's face paled, and he shot up as well. The two of them knew they were probably going to get busted, and Charley was ready to put up a fight with her dad. She knew her dad wouldn't like her blooming relationship with the aviator, but at the same time, they were both adults. And she honestly thinks that Bradley might be the most respectful man she's ever met, so really, her dad should approve of him more than others. But in full honesty, she wasn't ready for her dad to find out about her and Bradley.

The two of them held their breath as they heard the door open, the both of them standing there awkwardly. Once the door closed, she heard footsteps leading into the living room, but she didn't see her dad. All she saw was Penny.

"God you two," she says. "Don't look so scared. It's just me."

Both of them released a breath, feeling very relieved that they hadn't been caught. Yet.

"Don't worry Char, your dad isn't here," Charley put her hand over her chest, feeling very relieved. "However, Bradley, he did see your truck." Bradley's eyes went wide.

"What did he say?" He asked.

"I told him you had stopped by because you left your aviators at the bar and I told you to come over. I said I assumed you were early and Charley had let you in."

"Did he buy it?" Charley asked.

"He did," she smiled. Again, the two sighed in relief.

"Speaking of your aviators," Charley says, walking off into the kitchen. "Here they are," she says, walking back into the living room with his aviators in her hand.

"Keep them," Bradley says, surprising Charley. "They suit you better than me."

"Oh..are you sure?" She asks.

"Very sure. I have plenty of pairs."

"But aren't these your favorites?"

"Yes, which is why I want you to have them. I'll love them more when I see them on you."

"Thank you," Charley said, blushing profusely. "I will wear them all the time."

"Good," he said, shooting her a wink.

The Hard Deck III, coming Friday, July 8th 2022 at 12:00pm EST

#rooster bradshaw fic #rooster #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #the hard deck #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster fanfic #top gun maverick #rooster headcanon #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n

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munchflix · 10 months

Text

MUNCHFLIX - INDIANA JONES & THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL

IMDB BLURB: In 1957, Indiana Jones becomes entangled in a Soviet plot to uncover the secret behind mysterious artifacts known as the Crystal Skulls.

WARNINGS: Adventure violence and scary imagery

RATING: One Shia LaBeouf orange juice commercial

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: All reviews are done solely for humor and should not be taken seriously ever. If you cannot handle cursing, crude humor and probably some offensive things, pls do not read this.

Munch: Okay here we are, gonna watch Indiana Jones and the crystal skulls. The fourth and arguably the worst of the series, but I actually like it. I don't think its any worse or campier than the other movies.

Biscuits: Dib is joining us. We saw this in the theater! I actually remember this one better than the other ones, which we've been rewatching, but we wanted to review this one because it’s bad. We might’ve reviewed the new new one but it’s only in theaters right now. Also, my tumbler makes very nice asmr sounds :)

Dib: I don't remember anything but Shia LeBeouf and aliens.

B: I forgot Harrison Ford was like, hot in the old Indiana Jones movies. ‘Adventure violence and scary imagery’, I love that for us. Harrison Ford is in this as an old man.

M: He still kicks ass as an old man so... We open on a rousing car chase.

B: This movie happens in the 50's, they have to make sure we know that by having Elvis music and these kids in their very obvious 50′s getup.

M: The kids are trying to get the Nazi dudes to race them and they do for some reason.

B: No those are U.S. dudes.

M: My bad, they're racing our dudes right to a nuclear test site! No, those are definitely Nazi guys.

D: Does this movie just look this crusty?

B: I don't know why they went through all the trouble of disguising themselves as Americans when they just straight-up shoot the army guys. They’ve got a guy in their trunk, it's Indiana Jones. And some other guy.

M: They're actually Russians apparently. I can't keep track of all these bad guys.

B: Cate Blanchett is in this movie too! She's the main bad guy. These guys have really great Russian accents.

M: They need Indy to go into the really special American warehouse where they keep all the really important artifacts and find the alien.

D: Cate's hair is giving serious Edna Mode vibes.

B: You right, you right.

No capes!

M: Her accent is...awful. She thinks she's psychic or something. Or wants to be.

D: This IS area 51. In a big warehouse in Nevada.

B: Where they put the ark of the covenant in the first movie!

M: I didn't think area 51 existed then but okay. (we googled it and yes it did, it just wasn’t really known as like the ‘alien place’ back then)

B: He doesn't remember anything! He's 85! Also, the ark of the fucking covenant is in here! You could take literally anything else and it would probably be a pretty effective superweapon! Why do you need the alien???

M: Indy needs gunpowder to find the alien so he throws it in the air and it floats straight to the alien and doesn't need to obey gravity or anything.

B: The lamps or guns or swords aren't affected though.

D: Maybe it's stainless steel.

B: Who makes a fucking sword out of non-ferrous metal???

M: The magnetic field is very picky. They found the box tho and suddenly the crowbars are affected but not guns or anything.

D: Non-ferrous guns. Or pins or buttons or anything.

B: But now her sword is magnetic, and their dog tags, and their guns...

D: They're gonna put that in a car? Engines and magnets don't really get along.

M: So they get it open and it's an alien, no spoilers though. Irina (cate blanchett) is really excited. Indy tries to take out the Russians but his sidekick guy Mac turns on him and is apparently working for the Russians because money.

B: Why is she sometimes British?? Oh it’s because Cate Blanchett is British. Indy manages to drop the gun so perfectly that it shoots a guy in the foot and creates instant panic. The Soviets kinda suck at their jobs.

D: They did suck at their jobs!

B: They're just gonna drive around destroying all these priceless artifacts! All those boxes were empty apparently. I'm gonna have to go on a aliens rant at some point. I remember seeing this as a child and thinking...that's dumb.

D: That's the ark of the covenant!

B: To quote Griffin McElroy - I don't get a dinosaur. I know they found like crazy shit like the holy grail but that's at least grounded in some sort of real-world mythology or theology but aliens??

D: I think the Dial of Destiny is just something they made up. The second movie took a pretty hard left turn too with the stones.

B: But to connect all this to crystal skulls?

M: I don't think that's that weird tbh. They've always been a source of weirdo mysticism.

B: But they're not...real. I mean like, they’re real things that exist, but they’re not actual Mesoamerican artifacts. Whatever, Ancient Aliens type vibe.

M: Anyway....Indiana Jones got thrown through a window, and he landed on some nuclear control panel with a giant Russian guy.

D: He's mostly getting his ass beat.

M: He does that a lot.

B: One thing you gotta give Indy, he can take a beating!

M: Indy and the Russian get sent on a rocket test thinger and now they're all dizzy and trying to kick each other's asses still.

D: That was a lot of g force, to be fair.

B: And Indy hides behind a dune and the Russian guys just can't find him. Indiana is very sweaty already. The sweatiest man alive.

M: Indy is hiding out in a nuclear test site which he thinks is a real town initially until he realizes everyone is mannequins. Oh that's bad.

D: I don't think people knew what these were back in the day - but they did know what an air raid siren was.

M: Indy at least knows it's not good! The Russians do too though and they are outski.

B: And he survives by a hiding in a fridge.

M: They were lead lined back then!

D: There goes the entire budget. Also Indiana Jones is dead as shit. If he survived the blast he would not have survived the radiation.

B: Don't run towards the mushroom cloud! Didn't you ever watch Duck and Cover?? Wasn’t that like mandatory viewing back in the day??

Damn the intro to Fallout 4 looking different than I remember.

M: They do treat him for radiation, he's getting a good scrub down in an American....place... where he's being interrogated about his two timing buddy Mac.

B: Aliens, nuclear warfare, it does fit the vibe of the 1950's.

M: Indy somehow, despite having been there (at fucking Roswell btw) doesn't know what was in the box.

B: This is my favorite episode of X files.

M: The FBI or CIA or whatever think Indy is a spy, because we need more drama. Indy is back at college teaching his classes which he's been doing for 800 years.

B: This is exactly that scene from the first movie.

M: Except he's about to get fired, but Jim Broadbent is gonna try and talk him down though. Charlie is his name in the movie. I don't see how him resigning is gonna help Indy tho. Indy is gonna go to somewhere and get another job. Charlie bemoans the state of society.

D: What's happening?

B: His dad was Sean Connery, was he dead by the time this came out?

M: Yes. (Editor’s note: No he wasn’t. He died in 2020. Please don’t ever listen to anything Munch says.)

B: Oh yeah Shia LeBeouf is in this movie - an even bigger leap than aliens. Also he looks like James Dean. Dib is right about the lighting, it makes the movie look so cheap. This whole scene looks like a goddamn orange juice commercial.

M: Mutt (Shia) runs down Indy and is like HEY DO YOU KNOW ABOUT OXLEY HE HAD A CRYSTAL SKULL AND HE'S MISSING. And Indy is like, oh shit Akator?

B: The Mitchell-Hedges skull is fake af but I guess we didn't know that in the 50's.

D: This movie is boring.

B: I think Indy is making things up at this point. Akator, city of gold, all this nonsense. He doesn’t believe in any of it but come on man, you found the ark of the covenant!!! Shia LaBeouf is...not a very good actor.

M: Mutt seems kinda put down that Indy is just a teacher because he needs someone to rescue his Mom but now there's KGB agents coming for them. They want the letter with all the important stuff on it that Mutt gave Indy because somehow they know about all this already. Mutt and Indy start a fight.

When in doubt, punch a guy!

B: That's his solution to everything, start a fight.

M: To be fair, it seems to work every time.

B: We gotta have another rousing vehicle chase, these movies love a car chase.

M: Bring me a sugar cookie.

D: Indy just got dragged like hell into the backseat there. Nobody calls the police, I guess they didn't have cell phones and shit but nobody alerts the authorities?

M: I don't know, they're busy. Indy and Mutt drive through an anti-communist rally and the KGB dudes run into a statue. Now they're gonna drive through a library because it looks cool and so Indy can deliver a one liner. Are you drinking more margarita?

B: I don't want it to go to waste! The amount of sugar in it is probably worse for me than the alcohol.

M: Indy is now deciphering the letter which is written in Koihoma, because Indy knows like 8000 languages. Indy says it's a riddle from Oxley.

B: The lines in the earth only gods can read would be the Nazca lines.

M: You get an A.

D: Only gods can read. Or planes. I guess the KGB guys left them alone so they could get to Peru.

B: I like how they stopped over in Cuba.

M: They land over in Peru I guess, and find out Oxley was there but they thought he was bonkers so they locked him up. Indy apparently rode with Pancho Villa.

B: Mutt's mom thinks he's a goof! Sorry ma, I goofed up!

D: There's a bad guy, you can tell he's bad because he's smoking

M: They go visit Oxley's uh... cell in the sanitarium and find a lot of scrawl about abliens and Akator and Mutt is sad

D; Why does Shia look like he's gonna cry?

M: He's sad! Ox was like his dad.

B: He just looks like he got maced.

M: Indy does a quick sweepy and finds a map on the floor that Ox left leading to the cradle of Orellana where he died, or whatever...?

B: They really are throwing in any sort of myth or weird thing they can think of related to Mesoamerica or South America. Not a lot of action so far, mostly like solving puzzles.

D; You can infer all of that from some scrawl? I guess so because here we are at this Dark Souls location all of the sudden.

M: Indy and Mutt transition to the death place of the conquistador that nobody has ever found except apparently Oxley.

B: There's some spooky guys in Party City skeleton masks, and Shia falls down a ladder.

D: I need a gif of that in my life. Here comes the screaming skeleton dude, he knows kung fu apparently. They have magic holes they can crawl through apparently.

B: Indy reverse blow darts a guy, brutal.

D: You're a teacher? Not anymore! He just got fired!

M: I guess they're all gone now so on with the looting.

D: Crit success on the perception check for Indy.

B: These movies are basically Dnd campaigns anyway. Oh no, scorpions!

D: Here I am.....

B: *laughs* Rock you like a hurricane!

M: Indy and Mutt find some elongated head skulls and Indy is like well they did head binding which is true. Indy makes another amazing perception check and lucks into a secret passage that leads directly to the perfectly preserved conquistadors.

D: What class is Indiana jones?

M: Rogue

D: Can rogues use whips?

B: I think so?

M: Indy tears open a wrapping and finds a perfectly preserved dude who immediately disintegrates, but then Mutt finds one that's open already and omfg its got THE CRYSTAL SKULL which looks like it's full of saran wrap. I love how random the magnetic effect of the skull is. It just works whenever it wants on whatever it wants to work on.

D: Indy drops the skull and it shatters into a million pieces, movie over. Thanks for the exposition, Mutt

So nice of the crystal show to finally show up in its own movie.

M: Indy thinks this must be the skull from Akator that Ox found and then brought back but he doesn't know WHY he brought it back.

B: Ox was like, oh shit crystal skulls are fake, back to the hole!

M: As per usual, the second Indy finds something, someone is there to take it from him. In this case, Mac and his Russian friends who take Indy and mutt back to their Russian torture camp and tie Indy to a chair to mess with his brains.

B: The conkwisstadors found a city of gold that Mac wants to find because he just wants money.

M: Cate Blanchett and her accent have returned

D: And just as quickly, it leaves!

B: Oppenheimer didn't make up that line, he quoted it - but Indy knows that! Because he's smart and cool

D: Stop assaulting Indiana jones here man, she's like groping him

Please send all your hot Indiana Jones x Irina Spalko fanfics to munchflower.tumblr.com ( please do, I’m really bored. - Munch )

B: Even Indiana Jones doesn't believe this alien bullshit, he's like oh come on. The aliens have crystal skeletons.

D: What makes them think if they find the alien city that the aliens are gonna be like - hey it's cool, you want a prize?

M: But here's Oxley played by John Hurt but he's not okay in the head. Just a little bananas. The Russians blame the skull for Ox's condition and want to use it on Indy so he can interpret Ox's madness. No really.

B: This is...a lot. I know the other movies were a lot but just being like, anyways aliens and psychic channels and it opens up an undeveloped part of the human mind and fucking WHAT? Am I actually watching Ancient Aliens right now?

D: There's been no action, this is dragging on forever.

B: This is also taking itself waaaay too seriously.

D: This was 2008, they weren't allowed to be campy anymore.

M: True, sadly. Anyway, here's some alien brainwashing with Indiana Jones.

B: The Russians want alien bones to control people's minds. I guess it's not that much weirder than Nazis wanting the ark of the covenant to take over the world. That's a fucking polygraph machine!

Tbf all a polygraph machine does is monitor your heart rate and shit

D: You ARE the father!

M: Cate gives a rousing speech about taking over the world.

D; Guided meditation with Cate Blanchett and an alien skull.

B: What direction did they give Harrison ford?? “Look like you’re being controlled by aliens and just kinda jiggle around for a while?” This movie is...worse than I remember.

M: Mutt tries to step in and Indy is like, go ahead and kill him idgaf - but now here’s Marion from the first movie!

B: Half this movie is just references to the first movie!

M: Indy is like, this is your fucking kid?? But Marion still kicks ass and she's not having it. Indy then goes and sits with Oxley and he's like, oh hey he's doing automatic writing which is obvious to literally nobody but Indy.

B: Ox is literally speaking in riddles. This movie is 90 percent solving riddles

M: Indy of course can magically decipher these automatic writing pictographs because he's just that smart.

B: Mutt has an "emotional" moment with Ox but it's not very good. Acting.

M: Indy is too excited about solving the riddles to realize he's helping the enemy. But Mutt has a plan, and it’s the classic indiana jones plan: start a fight.

B: He's learning. Also setting things on fire, they do that a lot in these movies too.

M: Indy and Marion and Ox all run away but quicksand.

B: Oh dude, oh fuck, quicksand! I don't know why I'm so excited about that. Actually it’s not quicksand, it's dry sand. Indy tells Ox to get help. From who, the Russians??

M: that's literally what Ox does tho. Marion tells Indy Mutt is his kid while they're slowly sinking into a sand pit and Mutt comes back with a giant snake instead of like...a vine or something and Indy is like uh...no I'll die.

B: Snakes aren’t slimy. That poor snake :(

D: It's not a real snake.

B: I know but....

What do you need alien skulls for? Just annihilate all your enemies with this fucking thing!

M: Ox shows back up with the Russians! And now they're driving through the fucking jungle in a car with a cowcatcher with blades on the front. Mutt and Marion have a bit of a fallout over the dad thing.

B: But Marion and Indy are gonna spend this whole time arguing which is honestly pretty in character.

M: Indy starts another fight because why not, and again it works and he and Mutt somehow get free to go start kicking Russian ass

B: That's a damn sharp switchblade Mutt has, cuts right through everything.

D: *laughs* The car is just jiggling while Indy beats people up

M: This car chase goes on forever.

D: That didn't destroy the engine?

M: They're Russian cars, they're built different. Indy doesn't ever get shot despite guns going off one foot away from him.

D; Cate might be psychic but she has terrible aim

M: Mutt finds one of Cate's swords so he can fence.

D: Indiana can take down a whole cavalcade of cars but then he can't punch out one guy?

M: Mac tries to tell Indy that he's actually a double or triple agent and he’s on Indy's side now but come on, why would you trust this guy?

B: They had that whole conversation about how Mutt used to fence, that's like a, y’know, Cosgrove's fish. Chekov's gun!

M: Biscuits is a little tipsy. Mutt is holding his own against Cate somehow while his mom gives him pointers. The skull makes a hollow ‘boing’ noise when it hits someone. People have changed cars like 30 times at this point.

B: A little goofy.

M: We haven't even gotten to the ants yet. Shia gets caught in some vines and then he literally Tarzans this shit back to the convoy. No really.

Shia LaBeouf has returned to monke

D: You can't kill them! The Russians need Oxley or they can't find the thing!! They need him!

B: Doctor Joanes. That was straight up British.

D: Monkeys! Get em monkeys! Monkeys are ruthless.

M: Now the ants. Giant killer ants, like you have in wherever they are in South America.

B: That's a really big ant.

M: I did say giant. Now Russian and American alike are about to be devoured by ants.

B: Ants are doggedly pursuing them, a literal fucking wave of ants. But then they get tackled as they’re fleeing the ants.

D: It's the part where Indy has to fight a huge guy and nearly lose but then not.

M: It's a staple.

B: But apparently the skulls psychic powers work on...ants....so ox is gonna keep them away.

D: PROTECTIVE SHIELD!

Activate alarm! Cannot approach!

M: The giant Russian is down! And it's ant time for him as they file into his face hole and carry him into their giant ant hill. and they're all gone now and no longer interested in anyone else. Back to the car chase!

D: So they're gonna rappel down the cliff

B: Marion is gonna drive off the cliff.

M: She does tho and lands perfectly on a branch that allows them to drive into the river and the branch snaps back up and kills like four Russians, because movie.

D: Good thing those vehicles are amphibious. I wanna go on this Disneyland ride.

M: They go over a waterfall but there's actually three fucking waterfalls and somehow they keep landing in the boat and not losing the skull or their lives.

D: How many licks does it take to get to the center of Akator??

B: Good thing the water they landed in is also shallow enough for them to stand up in.

M: Indy is like, I'll take the skull the rest of the way because the skull told me to but I guess you guys can come too. Now they're inside the fucking stone skull cave at the bottom of the waterfalls and there's a giant temple full of weird paintings.

B: For real, Ancient Aliens type beat. The aliens taught them irrigation and farming and shit.

M: I understand Ox...someone came. *no comment*

B: All of the aliens will...come

M: Why do they assume those are aliens?? They found skeletons with elongated skulls earlier that were human so why are these definitely not human?

B: Because they're in the alien place?

D: Wait, where did these people come from??? How did they get there??? HOW?

B: they were just hanging out, waiting for people to come so they could attack them and it would look cool for the movie.

M: The random natives are kicking everyone's ass but then Ox does the skull thing he did to the ants and they all are like oh shit and they leave.

B: The Russians are like - a tracking bug! We should go to the conspicuously skull shaped cave in the waterfall!

D: How does Cate even find these tracking devices? She doesn’t have a tracker, she’s just finding them on the ground?

M: How does Ox know how to get into the obelisk, he didn't do this part before.

B: The skull told him I guess. Saaaaaand.

M: They start breaking the faces off the obelisk and letting the sand out so it will go down and open the secret passage to the aliens?

B: This whole movie is a mcguffin. I know the other movies were all about mcguffins but this one is getting ridiculous.

D: Good thing they're all clean and dry still.

M: Why did the aliens put a spike trap inside the obelisk that leads to the aliens?

B: The people who worshipped them built it I guess, in case someone was trying to steal their artifacts, but they're actually trying to return one so....

M: Mac starts immediately stealing stuff because he's never been in an Indiana Jones movie before and doesn't realize that's BAD. Also mac is leaving more tracking devices because he's a quadruple agent.

D: He's a double triple quarter pound agent. The Russians just shot the natives.

B: There are artifacts from every early culture in here because the ALIENS WERE ARCHEOLOGISTS!

M: The skull starts humming, like you do, and Indy is like, I gotta press it into this hole and whammo the door will open.

B: The aliens just bonk their noggin into it to open it.

M: And now the alien room with the alien skeletons.

B: We built this city...they built it so they could sit around and just look cool in this room forever or fuck I don't know. They're aliens, god knows what they're doing. They're not dead, they're just like dormant.

Return the slab or suffer my curse...

M: But here's Cate and her accent again and she’s like, they're a hive mind!

B: How does she know this?

M: Who knows. She's gonna take the skull though and stick it back on the alien skeleton and it just shwoomps back on because magnets.

B: Look, Indy has seen things you have not seen, he's seen people get melted by artifacts, he's not gonna gamble with the aliens.

M: But Cate is! She demands to know everything the aliens know and well...she's gonna. The eye sockets of the skeletons start....smoking a little.

B: Oh yeah by the way...the temple is like...a fucking SPACESHIP or something, Oh my god.

M: Mac is still stealing stuff while the temple crumbles and the c-gen aliens start forming into a singular hive mind alien thinger.

B: ‘Inter-dimensional beings’, yeah whatever, they’re fucking aliens.

M: And there's a portal to another dimension

B: Back to their fucking home dimension or whatever, because we couldn't suspend our disbelief for SPACE aliens but if they’re just from another dimension it all makes sense.

M: Indy and the gang all get out and run away while Cate sees the universe through the eyes of the aliens until her head explodes. Indy tries to save Mac but alas...his greed kills him.

D: You asked for it, Cate

B: The alien looks kinda angy.

*dib and biscuits laugh*

B: And she disintegrates! Not in a cool gory way, her eyes just burn and she turns into dust. Get knowledged.

M: Indy and the gang somehow get propelled out of the temple by rising water and into the jungle.

D: God this movie looks so bad! The lighting and the c-gen looks so bad. and now the aliens are just gonna fuck off, I guess. Adios!

B: I must go, my planet needs me. Back to alien town. Indy just watches. Ox says some cryptic shit, ‘to the space between spaces’, what the fuck does that mean?? Their treasure wasn't gold, it was KNOWLEDGE!

M: Shia and Indy are like, WHY DIDN'T YOU LOVE ME DAD? Ox has also apparently been cured of his indefinite madness now.

B: I guess everything turned out alright in the end!

D: And he's fine and he's cleared with the CIA! Indy got his job back! I melted the KGB with science so it's all good.

M: Indy and Marion get married because of course they do,

B: Things didn't work out so well the first time but why not.

D: Lookit this happy little family.

M: They set it up like Shia is gonna take over the mantle but he doesn't. I'm tired of typing.This movie is stinky but I still like it. It’s very silly.

B:I forgor that this movie came out at a time when 3D movies were EVERYWHERE, like literally every movie was in 3D even if it didn’t need to be, and sometimes they tried so hard to shoehorn 'cool 3D moments’ into a movie so hard it was to the detriment of the movie. And so many of those exact scenes are in this movie, and they haven’t aged well.

D: Movie bad.

M: You don’t get much more concise than that. Munch and Biscuits (and sometimes Dib out, yo)

#indiana jones #indiana jones and the kingdom of the crystal skull #harrison ford #shia labeouf #cate blanchett #movie review #munchflix

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