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your-highnessmarvel · 1 year ago

Text

Repairs

Requested by @talesofreading : Would you write something where you're a close friend of Steve and one time as your Bike needs some repair, he tells you to bring it to Bucky as he's good in fixing it. You're hesitant first as you have a bad crush on him but you decide to do it. So when you get there he's wearing a muscle Shirt, is all dirty and Looks pretty hot with his metal arm. So after you watch him fix your bike you can't resist the way he also Looks at you, so it happens that you end up in his shower together with some passionate smut. Later then he asks you for a proper date? 🤭

AN: omg this was sooooo good to write omg

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, piv, oral (f receiving), fingering, language

*gif not mine

MASTERLIST

"Yep, totally busted," Steve said, looking back up at you from where he knelt next to your smoking bike.

You put a hand to your sweaty forehead. Both of you had been at this for the better part of the afternoon, trying to figure out what was wrong with your motorcycle. Steve was in his white wifebeater, stained black from oil and grim, nails coated in dirt. He'd sweated right through his shirt and even his jeans were full of mud and dirt.

You'd sweated your fair share as well, competing with dirt under your nails and sweat right into your hairline. you didn't look any better, but you didn't care; this was your best friend, after all, and you had no reason to try to impress him.

"You know what?" Steve said, putting his tools back into his box. "You should go see Bucky."

You immediately rolled your eyes.

"He's good with bikes, y/n," he commended, seeing the way you shook your head.

"Is this another ploy to set me up with your grumpy best friend?" you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve got to his feet, dirt-stained hands going right into his pockets. "I mean it, y/n," he said, almost scolded. "I'm not as savvy with bikes as he is. He'd do it if you said I sent you."

"Then come with me!" you said. "Every time I'm alone with him, there's this awkward silence and all he does is grunt as a response."

Steve smiled. "I wish I could come, but I've got a date," he answered.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled. You watched him carefully, your best friend and mentor, and something along the edges of his eyes was curious.

He was shy.

"Who is she?" you asked.

He shrugged. "A girl that I saw at the library." He cut that off pretty short, picking up his tools, his towel, and throwing the keys back at you. "Now, get to Bucky's before it's nightfall."

Bucky lived way out of the city, into the utopian suburbs. You found it funny that this was the life that Bucky chose. After everything you'd heard from him, you'd pictured him in a dingy, half-lit, half-crumbling one-bedroom in Manhattan. Not in the outskirts of the city.

Thank God your car could pull a trailer, or else you'd have had to ask Bucky to meet you at your place, and that just wasn't happening. The thousand-year-old soviet asset was known to be a judger of literally everything.

You pulled into Bucky's parking space, the garage to his tiny little house open, like a black mouth ready to swallow you in. By this time, it was nearing four in the afternoon, and the sun was searing, hot and humid, and with just a foot out of your car, you were already sweating.

You closed the door loudly, maybe trying to announce your presence so you didn't have to knock on the door.

"Hey." It was Bucky, coming out of the shadows of his garage. It took you a second to get the hinges in your jaw to work because, damn.

You'd always thought of Bucky as a man who passed as good looking. Well, when you met him, he was still in heavy therapy and on government surveillance. He still had long, matted brown hair and a face dragged down by sorrow.

But now. Now he'd taken to cleanly shave his hair, leaving a few inches of thick, curling locks on top of his hair, not totally covering his ears. And even though he was slimmer than the last time you'd seen him - he hadn't been working out as much - he still looked... better. Real better.

"Hey," you said, awkwardly waving at him. He was carrying a white rag, cleaning his hands from oil or dirt or whatever else he'd been doing. "Steve said I could come to you if I had problems with my bike?"

He pursed his lips. He came closer, out of the shadows and into the mid-afternoon sun, and you got a good glimpse at him. Golden skin, scars matting his hand, his knuckles. He was wearing a muscle shirt, the kind that was maybe a bit too small for him, molding to his muscles, straining across his metal bicep.

You'd never really seen the arm before. Only flickers of his hands or fingers, but never the entire machine.

You licked your lips, something squeezing in your lower belly.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

you shrugged. "Dunno."

He glazed his eyes, rolled them. "Alright, take it down and bring it into the garage."

With a tiny sigh of resentment - he wasn't helping you - you unlatched the ties of your bike and rolled it into the garage. it was darker, a little cooler, inside. As you settled your bike in the dead center of the room, Bucky brought two stools, effortlessly carrying them around.

He sat on his and motioned with a wrench for you to sit beside him. Even though you'd sweated all day in your black t-shirt, and God knows whatever he'd down today, there was something terrific about sitting this close to Bucky.

His tanned fingers worked to open up the bike, his metal hand working the wrench.

"Ah," he said, poking around the engine. "I see what's wrong."

"Is it fixable?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered.

You swallowed the heat climbing up your throat, watching him get to work in silence. Unlike Steve, Bucky didn't tell you what he was doing or why; he just did it.

It took longer than expected. And the more he worked, straining against your bike, the sweatier he got, the more figetting you did.

His flesh arm was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. His hand was veined, strained against the metal piece he was holding aside. His fingers were dirty with grime and dust. Even that God damned muscle shirt was stained with dirt and sweat and grime.

By the time he was done, a light sheet of rain was coating the ground outside. It was pitter-pattering against the cement, a slow drone of rain against the tin roof. Almost comforting.

"You can't take your bike out in the rain," he said, putting everything back in its place, stowing his tools and his rags.

You gulped. "Yeah, I'm sure the rain will let off soon." You dragged your sweaty palms onto your jeans nervously. It caught Bucky's eye.

He stood, dragging your eyes up to his figure. He was so tall, so wide at the shoulders, sweating in his shirt, hair a mess.

"I've got beer inside," he said, throwing the rag in the corner of the garage, placing his tools on his self-made wooden desk. Then he turned to you and gestured to the front door. "Come on."

You followed him out into the rain, walking quickly up the steps and into his home, which smelled of him, something woodsy, and air freshener.

You were humid, rain dotting your skin as you took off your sneakers and followed him into the kitchen. The air conditioning was making you cold.

his home was cozy but so boyish. No decorations but a huge TV. A grey couch with not pillows or blankets. Empty liquor bottles as props over the refrigerator, which droned on and on. There was only one magnet on his fridge, and it read "I love NY!" Which was ironic because Bucky didn't love anything.

"Here," he said, offering you an ice cold beer, but it did nothing to warm you up. You leaned back against his kitchen counter, sipping on your beer, watching him poke around the inside of his fridge. The yellow light cast on his face like a glow, and he hummed when he found what he wanted.

By the time he took out the rolled up cheese, he saw you shivering by the sink.

"I'm sorry," you said, settling the beer down. "I'm just a bit cold from the rain."

He hummed, slamming the cheese rolls on the kitchen table.

"We ought to warm you up," he said, diving back into the fridge to get a beer, which he opened and took a five good gulps before he wiped his wet mouth.

"Yeah," you chuckled, pressing your hands against your arms, searching for heat.

The super soldier, immune to any heat or cold or anything really, stood before you with his sticky muscle shirt molding to every nook in his muscles. His arms, his chest, down to his abs. Water had made it almost see-through, and you felt like a perv watching as he breathed, watching his muscles contract beneath the fabric.

"You should take a shower, y/n," he said, tone low.

You startled, eyes dragging from his abs to his face in a split second. Did you smell? Was that why he'd said that?

"You're shivering, poor thing," he said, clucking his tongue, taking another wild swing of his beer. And you noticed that he was eyeing you took, at your jeans sticking to your thighs, your hips. At your wet shirt glueing to the curve of your waist and breasts.

He set his beer down and offered his hand. "Come."

On some instinct you'd never registered before, you took his hand, flesh fingers warm and calloused.

He led you into a small bathroom with no windows. where various male paraphernalia was strewn across the sink. He pulled the shower curtian back and started the shower and you just stood there like a fish out of water; mouth slightly agape, your hand still loosely holding on to his.

"Bucky?"

He hummed.

"I don't get it," you said.

He returned his gaze to yours, satisfied with the steam rising from the shower. He gave you a small, tight smile. "Get undressed," he said, gesturing his chin at you, dropping your hand.

You stood there like a statue, examining him; from the hard jawline, the seriousness in his eyes, the way his skin pulled back when he moved his mouth.

Then, harder this time, "Get undressed or freeze, sweetheart."

The nickname, the pet name, sent a wave of fresh heat right into your face.

He watched, then slowly, he smiled. Like a rpedator trying to win its prey without having to sink teeth into flesh.

He took a tiny step towards you, watching your breath hitch, and he slid metal fingers under your shirt, pulling it up until it came right off your head. Your hair flopped back down over your shoulders, covering your bra.

He bit his lip. You watched, entranced as he moved to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. He was agile because he took your panties off with it.

He came back to his full towering height, and he brushed your hair behidn your shoulders, exposing your chest, your full flesh to him.

He snaked an arm around your waist, and you gulped, the feel of his hands, burning metal fingers, was like a lightning bolt had erupted under your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, close to your ear, his breath in your hair. "So fucking gorgeous." He slid his metal hand up and then your bra was sliding off your arms.

"Let me touch you, y/n," he whispered in your ear. You gulped, nodded. "Use your words, sweetheart," and his voice was rugged, wretched, as both his hands slid careful fingertips up on your ribcage.

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered.

He huffed against you. And then his metal hand engulfed your breast, knead it the way he wanted, and his lips found your neck. You whimpered, taken by surprise by his sudden act of devotion. His tender fingers pulling your nipple, drumming against your ribs, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses up your jugular.

When he kissed you, his mouth was warm and wet, and he molded his lips to yours carefully, like he didn't want to scare you off.

You kissed him back just as carefully, confused and distraught, unaware that for years, Bucky had been yearning for this opportunity. For this moment where he finally had you alone.

Quickly, the kiss became rougher. Your hands pulled at the soft, thick strands of his hair and he pulled you aainst his with his metal arm around your waist. He nipped at you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, groaning as his flesh finger felt you.

He skimmed along your navel, until he could cup you in his palm. You squeaked, taken by surprise. "Easy there, princess," he whispered against your mouth. "Just wanna make you feel good."

He dove right back for a kiss, delving his tongue behidn your teeth while his fingers started working circles around your clit.

You had realized how riled up he'd gotten you, like a hardwire ready to snap.

You bent like a bow in his arms, moaning against his mouth as his fingers continued to circle your clit in slow, languid circles. And when he prodded farther, where you most ached for him, he moaned against your mouth when he felt just how soaked you were.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned, pulling his mouth from yours.

You almost whimpered at the lost of contact, but he picked you up so effortlessly, so quickly, that you hadn't registered that you were now sitting on the edge of the sink until you couldn't see him anymore. All you could see was the steam rising from the shower, clogging the bathroom, settling on your skin in dotted water drops.

And Bucky, on his knees, pulling your knees apart. His eyes, hooded and so blue, looked up at you as he kissed the inside of your thigh.

"One leg on my shoulder, baby," he ordered, his metal hand under your thigh, helped you move until you were almost straddling his face. "That's it, good girl," he groaned, biting into the plush of your thighs.

The angle sent you backward, back against the cold mirror, and one hand hanging onto the edge. Ready to plummet or fly, you couldn't tell.

His mouth teetered around your pussy, kissing along your thighs, until he settled over your clit and gave you one long swipe of his tongue.

Your head fell backwards, eyes closing, hips searching for his mouth.

"You taste so sweet," he cooed, pressing another long lick from your hole to your clit.

A strangled moan escaped your clenched teeth when he sucked on your clit, one of your hands digging into his hair and pulling him where you wanted him.

The room was filled with the filthy sound of Bucky getting his fill, lapping you up and sucking in your clit like a man starved. Both hands leaving ink-blue marks in your hips.

He worshipped your clit, flicking and sucking to a rhythm that had your thighs shaking against his face, with you pulling his hair by the roots. He sucked and fucked your hole with his tongue until a knot formed right under your belly button and exploded in white hot lightning.

As your orgasm washed through you in waves, rocking against his face, a moan hitched in your throat.

Bucky held your thighs open, refusing to let them close, and lapped up his fill.

When you were but a trembling, babbling mess, Bucky it into your thigh, kissing up your knee until he was standing between your legs. His eyes were hooded, pupils blown, mouth red and glittering, swollen from the kisses he'd lain on your clit.

"Come 'ere," he groaned, grabbing you by the back of the neck, bringing you upright on the counter. He brought his mouth to yours in a feverish, harsh kiss that left you dizzy and scrambling to keep up with him.

You pushed him away, grappling at his shirt, pulling it over his head. You gorged on the sight, on the tanned skin exposed, the scar where his metal shoulder meshed with his flesh. You touched the tips of your fingers to his metal shoulder, skimming down to his hand.

He took your mouth again, pressing you back into the mirror, hands in your hair, on your breast, skimming down back to your dripping hole.

He entered one flesh finger, pressing against your walls, so slippery and warm. He hummed, feeling your breasts against his chest as you bowed your back at the sensation.

You patted him through his pants, feeling him warm and hard against your touch. He hissed at the sensation, nipping at your mouth.

He continued to move his digit in and out of you, pressing his palm to your clit. You continued palming him, pressing against the impressive length of him until he groaned and took himself out of his pants, dropping them at his ankles and kicking them away.

Your mouth opened in a small 'o' at the sight of him, hard and thick, tip dripping precum.

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he asked, pressing his forehead to yours, thumbs on each side of your jaw.

You shook your head, gulped, saw the faint smile that crossed his face. He watched you with keen eyes as he lined himself with your soaked heat.

He pressed his thumb against your mouth, kissing you, as he slowly inched in. He watched you take it, watched as your mouth opened, brows curving upward.

"Don't give up on me baby," he whispered, nipping at your mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw.

He slid himself to the hilt, grabbing your hip in a bruising grip, metal hand pressed against the foggy mirror over your head.

You gasped, latching onto his shoulders for dear life as he pulled back and thrust back into you, feeling you clench and flitter around him.

You whimpered, body pressing up against the mirror with one harsh thrust from his hips.

"That feel good, huh?" he asked, boring his eyes into yours, keeping a slow, languid pace with his hips. "Tell me, y/n, that feel good when I fuck you?"

You nodded, feeling him slick, sliding into you with ease, stretching your walls and hitting that spot deep in you that made you writhe.

"Yes, Bucky," you answered, breathlessly, scratching at his flesh shoulder.

He groaned, taking your mouth with his, speeding up his thrusts, making your head catch on the mirror. You moaned against his mouth, giving up full control of your body to his, at the mercy of every thrust, every change in rhythm.

"Taking me so well," he grunted, hiding his face in your shoulder, bruising grip on your hip helping him thrust himself deeper into you. Then he pulled himself up, face hovering over yours, searching your gaze wildly. "You like it when I fucked this tight little hole?" he asked, and again, his tone was scratching the surface of something wilder.

You nodded, feeling a knot form in your belly, your thighs closing around his hips. His mouth stretched into a smile, pounding deeper and faster into you. "Yeah, you do," he said, almost mockingly, pressing a sweaty forehead to yours. "I see the way you always look at me," he grunted, kissing your mouth, humming at the moan that left your lips.

"Bucky, please," you whispered, eyes falling shut, your orgasm on the brink of breaking.

"I feel you, y/n, come on," he grunted, keeping a harsh, pounding pace until your legs shook and your orgasm broke through you in waves. "Fuck, that's so tight," he breathed, chasing his own end, pounding into your tightening hole.

A stuttered moan left your lips as you clung to Bucky, rocking into your orgasm with every thrust, feeling the wave of pleasure reach your toes. His metal hand came slamming onto the mirror beside your ear, cracking into the glass as he pounded into you, breathless and wordless until he gave you a few sloppy thrusts and he was spending himself in you.

He stayed there a few moments, breathing with you, kissing you softly until he pulled out of you. You stuttered, a breath hitched in your throat, as you felt him leaking out of you.

He met your gaze, leaning back to examine his work, and then he slowly helped you to your feet. You giggled at your loss of coordination, hearing Bucky chuckle too as he helped you into the shower.

You let the warm spray wash his seed from the inside of your thighs, soak into your hair.

"Warm enough?" he asked, chin on your shoulder.

You chuckled. "I've been warm enough for a little while."

He hummed, placing both hands along your waist. He helped you wash up, lathering your skin and hair, helping you wash out the suds.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. "You're quiet."

"Yes," you answered, looking over your shoulder at him. "Are you?"

He smiled, eyes low. He raised his brows. "I am now," he whispered.

When you were done with the shower and you were both drying up, Bucky tied his towel around his waist and watched you put your hair up in a towel.

"What?" you asked.

He snorted. "It isn't like me to do...this," he said, leaning against the sink. His chest was wet, glistening spots lingering down to his abs. It was enough to make you want to do this again.

You smiled but didn't answer, focused on getting your towel around your torso.

"Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?" he asked, and you looked up, met his eyes across the steamy bathroom, and smiled.

"Yeah, of course."

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky x you #bucky x yn #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #smut #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

Text

Billy Hargrove is into you, and you assume that you don't deserve better than that narcissistic douchebag. When heartbreak inevitably happens, Eddie Munson is there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), oral (f! receiving), protected p in v, Billy is a POS, reader is insecure about her body (no descriptions given, though she mentions not liking her stomach)

**Billy is very manipulative to get reader to sleep with him, though she does consent**

WC: 5.7k

A/N: This is based on two real experiences I had when I was younger. It's incredibly self-indulgent, but has also been wonderful for my healing process. I hope it can help someone else, too. (Also, sorry if it's rambly; it was cathartic but also emotionally difficult to write).

As the last swimmer exits through the iron gates, you breathe a sigh of relief at the end of another shift. Lifeguarding at Hawkins Community Pool wasn’t necessarily a difficult job, but it sure was tedious. Your flip-flops thwap against the pavement as you pad into the locker room to get dressed, skin sticky from sunscreen and that infamous mid-July humidity.

“So,” Heather says, twisting her blonde hair into a ponytail as she changes from her swimsuit into shorts and a t-shirt, “you ready to hear that secret?”

You nod enthusiastically. It’s all you’d been thinking about since you’d climbed down the lifeguard tower when her watch duty began, and she’d whispered that she had something to say to you privately.

Heather’s eyes gleam as she announces, “Billy told me he thinks you’re hot!” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Not that he needed to; anyone can watch him check you out all day long,” she adds with a smirk.

“Me?” you ask incredulously, unable to muffle your surprise. On instinct, you wrap your arms around your waist protectively. Heather might be comfortable changing in public, but your own body insecurities made it torturous for you to even be naked privately.

“Yes, you!” your co-worker giggles. “You should talk to him.”

You’re still mulling over the prospect of Billy Hargrove being into you when your ride pulls up to the pool gates. Waving goodbye to Heather, you hop in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. He picks you up every night you work, and the two of you always split a joint in your backyard before he heads back to the trailer park. It makes your crappy summer job all worth it; God knows the pay isn’t even going to cover your textbooks when you go back to college in August.

“Save any little gremlins today?” he jokes, turning down his music so he can hear your answer.

You shake your head and laugh. “Nah, just yelled, ‘no running!’ about 84 times.” Leaning back in the seat and stretching your legs, you glance over at him. “But Heather told me something interesting.” Eddie cocks his eyebrow, and you take that as a sign to continue. “Apparently, Billy Hargrove thinks I’m hot.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Sure, he’s not exactly your knight in shining armor, but he’s an attractive guy who has a thing for you.

“Oh, ew.” Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Please describe the look on that douche canoe’s face when you turn him down.”

“Who says I’m turning him down?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest.

Your best friend sighs. “Well, you should,” he says pointedly, never one to mince words. “Guys like Hargrove only want to get in a girl’s pants and then find a new victim.”

“Why are you being such a bummer?” you snap. Eddie just keeps his eyes on the road, oblivious to your glare. “If Jeff was about to get laid, you’d be throwing him a goddamn parade!”

He chuckles tersely. “That’s because Jeff getting laid would be a fuckin’ miracle.”

You look around, exaggerating your movements for emphasis. “Well, asshole, I don’t exactly see a line of people forming to sleep with me, either.” With that, you pull your knees to your chest and turn your body so that your back is to him.

The car is silent, save for the sounds of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning album crackling through the speakers. After what seems like an eternity, Eddie pulls into your driveway and throws the van in park.

“Did…did you still wanna smoke?” he asks quietly, twiddling with a loose thread on the ripped knee of his jeans.

“Nope.” You jump out of the van, slamming the door shut behind you. “And you don’t have to drive me home tomorrow. I bet Billy will do it.”

You hear him calling your name as you stalk into your house. Honestly, you could really use some weed right now, but you’re too infuriated at him to push it all aside for a quick smoke session.

The next day, you make a point to sit next to Billy when you take your break. He’s smoking a cigarette, occasionally flicking ash into a chipped tray on the table.

“Can I bum one?” you ask, pointing to the rolled tobacco between his plush lips.

Billy smirks, reaching for the pack of Marlboros and holding it out to you. “Didn’t peg you for a smoker, sugar.” He passes you his lighter, and you spark up and inhale deeply.

“I usually prefer something greener, but this’ll do.” You take another drag, trying to work up the nerve to say what’s on your mind. As the smoke curls around your mouth, you notice Billy’s eyes trail down the curves of your body, as though he’s trying to drink you in. “Something I can help you with, Hargrove?” you tease, impressed with the way you easily flirt with him. It’s so unlike you, but it feels good.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling softly. “You can hang with me tonight. Got the place to myself, so, y’know…” He trails off and raises his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

Your stomach flip-flops despite yourself. This is what you want, right? No more waiting around for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet. It’s not going to happen, never going to happen, not when you look the way you do. And if a gorgeous man like Billy Hargrove is actually willing to have sex with you, you’re in no position to turn him down. “O-Okay,” you stammer, hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness. “I’m working till nine tonight; is that–”

“Perfect,” he interrupts, flashing you a megawatt smile. “I finish at six, but I’ll stick around just for you, pretty thing.”

Pretty. He called you pretty, and he wants you. Wants you enough to hang out at work for an extra three hours just to be with you.

The rest of your shift drags by; all you can think about is Billy. The way he feels, the way he tastes, what he looks like underneath those swim trunks.

The only problem is that he’ll also want to see you naked. The thought sours your mood. You try not to catch glimpses of yourself in the bathroom mirror after you get out of the shower, and now you’re about to let him see you, completely vulnerable.

Stop being such a baby, you scold yourself. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Billy’s waiting outside the locker room once your shift ends. He takes your hand in his larger, stronger one, and leads you to his car.

“Seems kinda silly, getting changed out of that cute little swimsuit,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “when you’re gonna get undressed again so soon.” He leans you up against the passenger door, pinning your hips back and kissing you hungrily. One hand roams under your t-shirt to the swell of your breasts, breaking away when he feels the fabric of your bra. “You tryin’ to hide these from me, sugar?” He starts to reach for the clasp, but you stand up a bit straighter.

“Did you wanna, like, grab something to eat?” you ask shyly. “We can stop by Benny’s on the way to yours if…if you like burgers?” You cringe as the words leave your lips. Could you sound any more pathetic?

Billy just chuckles patronizingly. “That sounds like a date, and, uh, I don’t do dates.” He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth. “But I do other stuff real well.”

Something isn’t right. This isn’t what you want, but you should want it, and so you push down the apprehension and try to focus on the man in front of you. “That’s fine,” you murmur, even though it isn’t. People have casual sex all the time. It doesn’t mean he’s any less attracted to you. Like he said, he’s not the dating type, so why cause problems where none exist?

“I don’t know if I can wait until we get to mine,” he growls, and you can practically taste the spearmint gum that he was chewing earlier. “Might just have to do you in the backseat, hm?”

You nod as he opens the door for you, pretending for a millisecond to be a gentleman. He clambors in behind you and slams it shut, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling his waist. You can feel his erection pressed against your clothed sex, and you allow yourself to smile. You did this to him. You got him hard. Not Chrissy Cunningham, or Heather, or Bo Derek. You.

He starts to take off your shirt, but you push his hands away. “Something wrong?” he asks, giving an exasperated sigh. Did you already fuck this up?

“N-No, it’s just…” you avert your gaze, too embarrassed to make eye contact. “Could I keep my shirt on? I don’t really like my body, and I’d just feel better if I didn’t, um, take it off.” Heat blazes behind your cheeks, and you will yourself not to cry.

“For fuck’s sake,” Billy grumbles under his breath, flexing his biceps as he stretches. He lets his hands fall to your ass with a soft smack. “You got me all worked up, and now you’re not even gonna let me see your tits?”

You duck your head in shame. “I’m kinda insecure about the way I look,” you admit, hoping it will soften his heart. Though kinda is an understatement.

He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth impatiently. “Y’know,” he finally says, squeezing the plush of your ass, “you might feel better about yourself if you got naked for me.”

You inhale sharply; that’s not at all what you expected him to say. Maybe something reassuring; something about how much he liked the way you look. Instead, he’s clearly irritated with your hesitation.

“M-Maybe.” It’s worth a shot, and you slowly peel off your top and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car. You watch anxiously as his eyes flit across your bare chest, waiting for his reaction. An indication that he just has to have you and only you.

Instead, he clicks his tongue and simply says, “not bad.” He fumbles with your shorts button before unfastening his own. He strokes his cock lazily, staring at you. “Touch yourself, sugar. Get yourself ready f’me.”

There’s something screaming at you that this isn’t right; he should at least attempt to get you off instead of asking you to do the work for him. But you do as you’re told, not wanting to humiliate yourself further.

You shimmy out of your shorts, pushing your panties aside and rubbing slow, timid circles around your clit. You’ve done this plenty of times to know what feels good, yet you can’t seem to get it right when it counts. Billy doesn’t notice—or care—that the moans floating past your lips are fake, and he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Condom?” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes again.

“Doesn’t feel as good,” he grumbles, but he reaches into his wallet and pulls out the square piece of foil and tears it open, sliding the rubber over his thick cock. He pushes into you, not bothering to take his time as he ruts up. “Move your hips for me,” he tells you. “Bounce up and down; damn, do I gotta walk you through everything?”

Tears prickle at your eyes, and you manage to blink them away before he can see. Maybe this’ll get easier with time, you think. Maybe I’m just too nervous. You will yourself to relax, holding onto his broad shoulders as you lean down to kiss him.

“Feels good, yeah?” Billy grunts, and you nod as you zone out. You throw out a few more half-hearted whines as his hips stutter against your pelvis and he spills into the condom. “Fuck, there ya go, take it,” he croons, sweat trickling down his forehead. As soon as he rides out his orgasm, he’s hoisting you off of him so he can clean himself up. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” You try to sound enthusiastic. “Could you, um, drive me home?”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, but waits for you to put your clothes back on and climb into the passenger seat.

He wants to do this again tomorrow, meaning he wasn’t completely repulsed by your body. So everything should be good, right?

The next week and a half is filled with lust-fueled backseat romps, usually ending with Billy coming and you…well, returning home to use your trusty vibrator. You’re starting to feel a bit more comfortable, but not in your own skin. It’s more that there’s a certain power behind Billy choosing you when he could be with literally anyone else. You hold your head a little higher, walk a little taller. Even your parents notice on your weekend trip to visit your grandparents in Indianapolis, though you didn’t clue them in on the source of your newfound confidence.

When you get back to the pool that Monday, you’re about to whisper in Billy’s ear to ask if he has a second to “check out a situation in the locker room” with you. What you find stops you dead in your tracks.

His arm is wrapped around Heather. They’re laughing together and she presses her lips to his cheek; he tilts her chin so he can kiss her passionately. It’s more tender, more loving than the way he kisses you.

The ground starts to spin, and you grab onto a plastic chair to steady yourself. As soon as Heather walks away, you march over to Billy.

“What the fuck?” you hiss, trying to keep your volume down. You wince as your voice cracks, giving away the sadness tucked inside your frustration. “Are you with Heather now? Like, with her?”

“Uh, guess so,” Billy replies snidely, twirling a toothpick between his teeth.

You bite your lower lip, willing yourself not to cry. “I thought you said you weren’t the dating type?”

He shrugs. “Just kinda happened,” he says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just destroy your world. “You were away, she asked me to go to Scoops and grab some ice cream; one thing led to another, and…” he trails off. “Not like you and I were exclusive or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t wanna be!”

“And why do you think that is, huh?” Billy shoots back. “Why do you think I’d rather be with Heather than with you?” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair slightly. “You’re so goddamn uptight, y’know? Always worrying about the way you look, about people seeing us in the car. Heather just…goes with the flow. I can’t deal with someone so high-maintenance. Actually, most guys can’t.” With that, he storms out of the break room, leaving you trembling.

A wave of nausea washes over you as you slump down in a seat. All you wanted was to be wanted, and you blew it. Billy’s right; your insecurities keep you unloveable.

You try to take deep breaths, letting the tears slip down your cheeks. Your shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes, so you pray that you’re able to collect yourself before you’re due to start your watch. You’re sobbing too hard to notice the two boys peering into the lounge, watching you with growing concern before dashing to the nearest payphone.

You slide on your sunglasses to hide your red, puffy eyes. The last thing you need is people asking you what’s wrong. Just as you’re about to walk over to the lifeguard stand–to switch with Billy, of all people–you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Eddie.

“Um, hey,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Will and Dustin called; said they saw Hargrove yelling at you, and you crying. Told me to ‘get my scrawny ass here, stat.’” He gives a terse chuckle. “Exact quote, by the way.”

You want to wrap your arms around him and never let go, but you remember what he said to you. Worse, that he was right. “‘M fine,” you lie, and Eddie sees right through it.

He gingerly takes off your sunglasses, heart breaking as he gets a glimpse of your tearful expression. “C’mere,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. It’s so tender, sweet, and selfless. It’s Eddie.

“Go tell your boss that you’re not feeling well, yeah?” he says finally, still not letting you go. “We can go grab something to eat, and you can tell me everything.”

“‘M not hungry,” you shake your head, “and I just wanna go home.” Your voice is whiny, but you’re too sad to care.

“Okay, well, you’re still leaving,” Eddie insists, and you don’t have the energy to argue. “The sheep,” he gestures to where Dustin and Will are standing, and they wave as though they’ve been caught, “will tell your boss that you’re sick. Lady problems or whatever.” You feel his fingers intertwine with yours as he leads you to his van. “And you can tell me as much as you want, ‘kay?”

You nod wordlessly as Eddie gives the younger kids a thumbs-up. He normally chooses the music, whether he’s the driver or the passenger, but this time, he tilts his chin towards the radio and says, “all yours.”

You turn the dial until you hear a Fleetwood Mac song, expecting Eddie to crack a joke or complain about your selection, but he just taps the steering wheel to the beat. When he drives to a gas station to fill up his tank, you don’t think anything of it until he comes back out with a bag full of Haagen-Daaz.

“Got all your favorite flavors,” he announces, plopping back into the driver’s seat. “I know you said you’re not hungry, but you will be at some point. So…sustenance.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you manage a small “thanks,” as he drives you back to your place. When he pulls into the driveway, he waits awkwardly for you to say anything else.

Finally, he breaks the silence by handing you the bag from the Shell station. “Don’t want this to melt,” he offers lamely, frowning when you burst into a fresh round of tears. You hear him mutter, “that’s it,” and he kills the engine, jumping out of the van to run to your side. “Up and at ‘em.” He pulls you out of your seat, scooping you up and flinging you over his shoulder with ease. He kicks the van door closed, walking to your front door before setting you down.

“That’s my favorite method of transportation,” you giggle softly, and he breathes a sigh of relief as your humor peeks through.

“Save a horse, ride a Munson, right?” he jokes back, blushing when he realizes the double entendre he just made. “Uh, anyway, I can leave if you want…” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously.

“You can come in,” you say, unlocking the door. He follows you, heading straight for the kitchen and grabbing two spoons from the drawer.

“Figured we could start with cookie dough,” he says, holding out the pint. “Ladies first.”

The two of you sit on the couch in comfortable silence as you dig into dessert. Halfway through, you look up at him through misty eyes. “I’m waiting for the ‘I told you so,’” you say softly.

“Huh?”

You tell Eddie everything: Billy’s claim that he wanted something casual, his reaction to you asking to keep your shirt on, the venom he spewed earlier today. “I never should’ve trusted him.”

But Eddie’s seeing red, fists clenched and jaw squared in pure rage. “The fuck did he say?” He stands up so quickly that he nearly knocks over the pint of ice cream.

“Where are you going?”

“To kick his sorry ass!” Eddie exclaims, grabbing his keys from the table where he tossed them.

“He’s not worth it,” you tell him. “Just…can you stay here and eat ice cream with me? Please?”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, plopping back down next to you. “But I still wanna punch him in the face.”

“You and me both,” you agree, taking another spoonful before posing the question you’ve been too afraid to ask. “Do you think I’m a slut?”

Eddie nearly chokes on his bite of cookie dough. “A slut? Because you slept with some douchebag?”

“No,” you say quietly, “for having sex with someone because I wanted to feel beautiful.”

His whole body deflates. “That’s why you…why wouldn’t you think you’re beautiful?”

You bark out a tense laugh. “Where to start? Um, my face, my hair, my body…oh, and apparently, now I’m too insecure and uptight to love, so…”

Eddie cradles your face between his strong, calloused hands. “Listen to me,” he says. “You are the most goddamn beautiful person on this Earth. Your eyes…I could stare into them all day. You have the cutest nose I’ve ever seen. Your smile makes me smile. And your hair…no matter how you wear it, you always look good. Sometimes you say things like, ‘ugh, my hair’s a mess today,’ and I’m just flabbergasted.”

“Flabbergasted?” you interject, amused by his word choice.

“Flabbergasted,” Eddie affirms. “And your body is…I’m gonna sound like such a creep here, so forgive me, but your body is so fucking hot. Like the night we had that argument, you said something about no one else wanting to sleep with you. But I know for a fact that that’s not true.”

“It’s not? Who wants to sleep with me?”

Eddie laughs nervously as he slowly raises his hand. “Um, me? But not, like, in a smash-and-dash way. Like in a take you on dates, hold your hand, be your boyfriend kinda way? Oh my God, just tell me to shut up. Please.”

“You’re just saying that to cheer me up,” you mutter.

“Nope. It’s the truth. Cross my heart.” He makes the slashes across his chest with his fingers. “Wait…the thought of us together cheers you up?”

You nod shyly. “Just never thought you’d be into me like that.”

“Well, I am. I so fuckin’ am, holy shit.” Eddie looks like he wants to kiss you, but he’s holding back. “Can I take you on a date? Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’d love a date with you, Eddie Munson.” You watch as a grin spreads across his face, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He lays his arm along the back of the couch, not quite sure whether to put it around you. That’s how the two of you fall asleep as the remaining ice cream melts in its container.

Seeing Billy at work the next day still stings a bit, but it’s easier than it was. You know he’s an idiot, a player, a manipulative piece of shit. And you have a date with Eddie, who is the kindest, gentlest soul you’ve ever met. And you deserve that kindness.

Eddie picks you up from work as usual, but instead of his typical ripped jeans and a concert tee, he’s wearing…well, un-ripped jeans and a concert tee. But he smells like a new cologne as he kisses your cheek, blushing as he pulls away.

“You look absolutely incredible,” he muses, reaching over to hold your hand. “Seriously, I’m so lucky you agreed to go out with me, shit.” He smiles at you, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just…” He can’t seem to shed his dopey, lovesick grin. “Told myself I wasn’t gonna kiss you; like, kiss you kiss you, until the end of the date. But you just look so goddamn gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” you duck your head, trying to hide from him. “I’m the lucky one. My date is hot and has a kickass personality to match.”

“Guess we both got lucky tonight.” Eddie bites his lower lip when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean–”

You squeeze his hand, effectively silencing his racing thoughts. “Where are you taking me?” you ask, trying to change the subject. It’s not that you were embarrassed by his Freudian slip, but after what happened with Billy, you weren’t looking to rush into sex.

“You’ll see,” Eddie says, excitement building in his voice. A few moments later, you’re walking into the Coffee and Contemplation Café, with Eddie holding the door open for you. Your sundress swishes along your thighs as you take a seat across from Eddie. He immediately takes your hands in his, caressing them with his thumbs.

“Eds?”

“Mm?”

“I need to look at the menu.”

“Oh.” He lets go of your hands, looking a bit sad as he does. “Sorry, baby. Shit–can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I really like that, actually.” Baby. You’re Eddie’s “Baby.”

When the waitress comes around, you order a vanilla latte, and Eddie orders coffee with cream and two sugars. “That’s what Wayne always orders when we go to the diner,” he explains. The two of you decide to split a piece of crumb cake–one slice, two forks.

“This is a really nice date, Eds.” You wrinkle your nose. “Hmm. I need a cute nickname for you now, huh?”

Eddie taps his chin as though he’s deep in thought. “How about…stud muffin?” He feigns offense when you giggle. “What? Am I not studly?”

“Oh, the studliest,” you reassure him, still laughing. “I like ‘babe,’ though. Because you are a babe.”

“I dunno…kinda like stud muffin better,” Eddie teases, taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, tell me all about your day.”

And so you fill him in on every detail, from the kid who peed in the pool to the mother who berated the lifeguards for “allowing” it to happen. “Like we can control their bladders or something,” you add with an eye roll, and Eddie cackles. A strand of hair falls in his face, and you tuck it behind his ear.

“Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, peering at you from under impossibly long lashes. That’s when you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow and sweet. He’s not expecting it; probably thinking he was going to initiate when he dropped you back off at home. His lips remain frozen for a second until his brain registers what’s happening. Then he’s kissing you back, palm on your cheek.

“Was that okay?” you ask finally. Eddie’s response is to slam a $10 bill on the table and grab your hand, leading you back to his van. He kisses you again against the side door; it reminds you of how Billy kissed you that night that you…

Eddie notices that you’ve stopped kissing him back, and he pulls away. “Baby? You good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer. He’s not Billy. Not even close. Not even a little bit. You take a deep breath. “Just nervous, c-cause the last time I did this, it, uh, didn’t end well for me.”

Eddie wraps his arms around your waist, gently pulling you towards him. “Hey, hey,” he coos. “There’s no rush, yeah? And I’d never–never make you do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I know.” And you do. So for now, you just rest your head against his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his heartbeat.

The next month before you leave for school is filled with dates, each better than the last. Eddie takes you to the carnival, the drive-in movie theater, picnics at Lover’s Lake…anywhere he can. The kissing gets more fun; you’re able to focus on Eddie–your Eddie–and not on your past experiences.

The night before you’re set to go back to college, you’re ready to take that next step with him. The two of you are sitting on his bed and listening to music; your plans for an outdoor music festival having been squandered by the pouring rain. You move closer to him, straddling his waist as you press your lips to his neck.

“‘M gonna miss you s’much,” you pout, moving your mouth to his. “Want you, babe. All of you.”

Eddie gives a terse chuckle. “I want you too; so fuckin’ bad. But we don’t have to do this just because you’re leaving. I’m not gonna break up with you. In fact, I…” he swallows thickly before continuing, “I think I love you, baby. Shit, no; I know I love you.”

“I know I love you, too,” you smile, kissing him again. “And I want to have sex with you because I love you, and I want to show you.” You dig your fingers into Eddie’s hair, nuzzling your noses together. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” he breathes, hands settling on your hips. “You’ll let me know if you wanna stop, right? Just tell me, and we can go back to cuddling. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you say, and it’s the truth.

Eddie nods. “Okay. On your back, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You do as he asks, and you feel his lips trail down your torso, stopping just before he reaches the throbbing ache between your legs. “Yes?” he looks up at you patiently.

“Yes.” With that, he unbuttons your shorts and tugs them down your legs, running his middle finger along your lace panties. He shivers as he feels how wet you are, all for him, and he nearly tears the underwear in half trying to yank it off of you.

“Wanna taste you,” Eddie mutters.

“Y-You can taste me.” You whimper, and Eddie wastes no time licking a soft stripe along your folds, easily finding your clit. “Right there.” His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue over it. “Holy shit, yes, right fucking there.”

Eddie detaches from your sex for a second, chin already shiny with your slick. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises f’me, please.” He sounds just as desperate as you do as he plunges back between your legs, this time slipping a finger inside you as he licks. You’re moaning, and there’s no faking it this time. Eddie’s touch has you floating, You can vaguely sense him rutting up against the mattress, so turned on just by eating you out. He’s holding onto your hips, eyes never leaving your body.

“Gonna come, feels s’good,” you whine, never wanting this feeling to end. You grind up into his face as you ride out your orgasm, gripping the sheets and screaming his name. “Eddie, Eddie, I’m coming, holy fuck!” After he brings you back down from the high, you push yourself up onto your knees.

“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Was that too much?”

“Just wanna return the favor.” You lean over to rub him through his tented jeans, but he shakes his head.

“Not tonight,” he mutters, “I’m too pent up. I’ll never last in that perfect little mouth of yours.” He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips. “Can I be inside you?”

“Yes, babe. Please.” You look down, realizing that your shirt is still on. You want to show him all of you, let him touch every last inch of your body, but you hesitate to take it off.

Eddie must be able to read your mind, because he tilts your chin in his direction. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna see you naked,” he admits, “but only if you’re ready. You can keep it on if you’re more comfortable.”

You inhale in for three and exhale for three before you respond. “I’m ready. I’m comfortable.” You lift the shirt above your head, revealing your bare breasts. The incredulous stare on your boyfriend’s face is almost comical. “Are you okay?” you giggle.

“No, I think I died and went to Heaven,” he says, letting his thumbs graze over your hardened nipples. He undresses himself in record time, revealing his long, thick cock. Pre-cum drips from the tip. “Baby, I wanna spend all night touching you, but I’m gonna bust if–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him.

He reaches into his dresser drawer, pulling out a condom and removing it from its wrapper. “Can you put it on me?” he whispers, and you oblige, rolling it down his length. He hisses at your touch, too sensitive to ask you to linger there. He sets you back on the pillows, slowly pushing into you a little at a time until he’s fully inside. “Good, baby?”

“Mhm,” you mewl. “S’good. You can–you can go faster, whenever you want.”

Eddie threads his fingers with yours, putting your hands up next to your head as he rocks into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you.” He punctuates each I love you with a kiss to your lips.

“I love you, Eddie. ‘M all yours.”

“All mine,” he echoes, “my baby’s all mine. And I’m hers. Her pussy belongs to me and–shit–my cock belongs to her.” He squeezes your hand, not possessively, but as a reminder that it’s him. It’s him, it’s you, it’s the two of you together. His eyes never leave yours, and he suddenly smiles. “You make me so damn happy.”

“This has been the best summer of my life,” you agree, “and it’s all because I have you, babe.”

His chest rubs against yours ever-so-slightly, and the sensation of your breasts has him weak. “I’m gonna come.” His expression is apologetic. “Shit, I didn’t wanna–”

“Let go for me,” you assure him, feeling yourself come undone as you speak. “We c-can come together.” Your second orgasm of the evening happens on his cock as he spills into the condom with a wanton moan. He’s still for a minute, catching his breath before removing himself from your warmth.

“I love you,” he says as he kisses you, sliding off the barrier and tying it. “Let me toss this, and then can we cuddle? I kinda just wanna hold you.”

“I’m down to cuddle before round two,” you say, laughing at his dumbfounded expression. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you a few minutes to reload.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he says, climbing back into bed and sighing happily as you snuggle into his chest. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic

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safedistancefrombeingsmart · 10 months ago

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I am torn between laughing and... more laughing at those headlines.

Let's start with my favourite:

And then here we also have:

Who are those viewers? I get that the scene in question can make people uncomfortable and maybe even that they are 'grossed out'. I get that. But honestly: what did they expect? I've never been to the cinema without having at least a clue what the film is about that I am going to watch in a bit. I don't read spoilers, but at least a summary of what the film is about.

The movie is rated R (for sexual content, language throughout, some teen smoking and drinking). And it's about a teacher and his student. I mean, the sexual content surely would not happen between the janitor and the school nurse? If you don't want to see that- don't watch the movie! That's on the viewer, not the movie.

Also, there was absolutely nothing explicit about the scene. No sex happened! (It was implied, yes- but nothing happened.)

All this makes me believe that most of the mentioned viewers are 13-year-olds who totally missed the point of the entire film (granted, it wasn't a very strong point) and just like to complain on social media. And of course that's were the tabloids come in and produce those memorable headlines. (Still laughing at the Hobbit one.)

I've said it before: Miller's Girl isn't a very good movie, but it also isn't a very bad one. It's somewhere in between, imho. But there is nothing surprising about it. There was nothing misleading in the trailer or the synopsis. We always knew there was a big age gap between the main characters (even tho it was a bit smaller in the screenplay). We knew that!

I've been following this movie since it was announced and I read many, many times something like: 'I like Martin, but I am going to pass on that one. It's not my cup of tea.' And that's absolutely 100% ok. That's how it should be. If something makes you uncomfortable: do not watch it. I don't like horror movies, so I don't watch them (yes, even when Martin is in it. 😉)

You don't like movies that contain a teacher/student- relationship or a big age gap? Do not watch it! You watched it anyway and it grossed you out? Well, who do you blame? Yeah, I thought so. Shame on you if you blame the movie or the director or the actors.

PS: I am not mad or anything, just mostly amused. (Still laughing at the Hobbit headline!!)

#martin freeman #jenna ortega #miller's girl #tabloids #social media #millers girl #cairo sweet #jonathan miller

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toomanywatchers · 7 months ago

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My Thoughts on WatcherTV

Hi, I am here to put away my meme-making skills to express my genuine thoughts on Watcher’s announcement; WatcherTV. Before I get into it, this is for any of those at Team Watcher who might be seeing this message: Just know we love and support everything you do for us. Y’all truly do not get the credit you rightfully deserve. I hope with this change to a separate streaming platform you guys can create the content you want to make, pull in creators that you’ve always wanted to work with, and share voices/topics that may have not had the chance to shine because of YouTube’s heinous algorithm. I know myself, and many others, are excited to see what WatcherTV brings. For instance, I already watched Road Files and the trailer for Travel Season on the new platform. And guess what? I love it! I just love BTS-centric shows and seeing the vibes established on Travel Season. Along with more Lizzie/possibly-more-sightings-of-other-Team-Watcher-peeps content?!? If this is what holds for the future of WatcherTV- oh boy, do you already have me more on board than I already was.

I also send my sincerest regards too. We all know that the internet can be a negative space with many sharing their uncensored thoughts, and I hope none of you take the hate to heart. I also hope you can take the weekend to breathe, drink some water, spend time with loved ones, and celebrate this huge step you all are embarking on. I am truly excited to see what is to come on WatcherTV will be there with each step to support.

Now to my fellow fans of Watcher. I understand the concern and it is okay to have concerns. It shows that you truly care for Watcher as a company and don’t want anything negative to come about with this decision. BUT on the other hand, spreading hateful messages? Not. Fucking. Cool. It is quite simple to express concern in an appropriate/respectful manner. Remember, this is a company full of living and breathing human beings. Trying to justify “who is to blame” and pointing fingers is just childish. Guess what? No one is to blame, it was a company-wide decision that they all made and spent months upon months to create.

Yes, it does suck to see content that was free for years be moved to a paywall, but remember they are independent artists that have to pay employees, freelancers, locations, and themselves! Have we not been advocating for fair pay among creative individuals when it comes to WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes and then AI art taking jobs away from artists? If this is what the company needs to do to survive while not sacrificing the high-quality content they make for us, then we should give it a shot! Plus with the current discount available, the subscription is not that pricey for the amount of shows they produce! Literally for January and a bit of February, they were uploading 2 podcasts and 2 separate shows… that’s a lot of content! If you have never sat down to produce, direct, write, perform, edit, and all other aspects it takes to make a fine-polished YouTube video, it takes a lot of work!

To add to this, Watcher already makes content that far expands past what is recognized as normal for YouTube. They build individual sets for each show that is produced, and they travel all over the place for Ghost Files and soon-to-be Travel Season. It costs money to produce content and YouTube?- It’s just not how it was years and years ago. Views on long-form content have been dipping and with the over-saturation of sponsorships, I am assuming they are not making enough profit to sustain the business on the current platform. Also, monetization on YouTube has been a killer for many channels because of vulgar language issues and just being demonetized for no rhyme or reason. By moving over to a streaming platform of their own they can continue to create what they want to create, and make it without any restrictions or rules holding them back. Too pricey? Find some friends who also like the content and split the pricing evenly. Only want to watch certain shows? Then make a monthly subscription for the time that show airs. There are many solutions that you guys see as a huge problem, and don’t get me wrong I have my concerns. I shared those concerns briefly in my theory post about them still being a young channel, but I’m also unaware of the actual analytics and revenue that is currently being brought in currently to the company from YouTube alone.

It’s a huge step that has garnered negative feedback from those spreading hateful messages about the company and to other individuals for supporting the boys *cough cough I see your messages and comments cough cough* is truly uncalled for. I will be taking a bit of a break from my socials as I wait out the storm though if I have the energy, I might stream on Twitch again and talk through this with y’all if you can sit down and have a civil discussion. As for now, it’s your choice if you continue to support. My goal is to continue to make funny little memes, and if I am allowed to I will be working on a crack video pt.2 after Travel Season premieres. Remember to be kind and to put yourselves in their shows. Just the boys even though they are receiving the brunt of the hate, but for everyone at the company.

Your local memester watcherina - Fritz.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #ryan bergara #shane madej #steven lim #watcher tv #my thoughts

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tau1tvec · 1 month ago

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I don’t know whether it’s bc I grew up during a time when cable TV was your main source of media consumption, and if you decided partway you didn’t like something you could just change the channel until you found something that held your attention and didn’t feel bad about it. Or that my family couldn’t see a point in ordering TV guide. Or that I was young and had no clue why two white men were announcing how many thumbs they had between them on every movie box, but I can’t tell you how I’ve never, ever, not even once seen something I’ve wanted to watch or play, and thought… “but wait, what does jimbob107 on Metacritic think about this?”

Like I cannot say enough how some of the best memories of my youth was going to Blockbuster and either grabbing a movie off of the shelf purely bc of its cover, or the actor on it, or remembering the moment I caught a trailer for it on TV one night and it looked cool, and going “yup, that’s the one,” and being okay with it even if it wasn’t the best thing I’ve watched.

Hell I remember my high school friends and I purposefully watching obscure, clearly low budget horror movies the entire month of October to get in the spoopy mood, and having a blast doing it.

What I’m saying is, there’s a lot more to the media we consume than it being good or bad, there are literally worse things in the world than a little bad writing, or weird pacing, or shit acting, your life isn’t going to end bc you took a chance on a 90 min movie, and it didn’t end up the best thing you’ve ever pointed your eyeballs at. Your intuition isn’t always going to be right, but that’s life, that’s what living is about. You’re developing your tastes, and tastes change as you change, should you be open to others’ opinions on things while doing that, absolutely, but no one guy on YouTube is ever going to understand the complexity of all that or you enough to be able to tell you what you like or won’t like.

Making media, or any art really is about taking chances, why should it surprise anyone at all that consuming it is also about taking chances.

#idk why i typed this lol

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harrywavycurly · 1 year ago

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Food Network

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Ghost!Reader

Find all things Eddie x ghost!reader here✨

A/N: Don’t worry it’s not sad and also don’t ask where this came from, I just like the idea of you bothering Eddie as a ghost✨

“What are you doing?” Eddie jumps at the sound of your voice making him hit his head on the top of the fridge. “Why are you home?” You ask as you take a seat on top of the counter in the small kitchen of Eddie’s trailer.

“Please stop fucking doing that.” His voice is full of annoyance as he grabs a beer from the fridge before closing it. “Also I’m home because I live here? Where else would you like me to be?” You roll your eyes as you watch him open his beer and take a sip.

“It’s a Saturday night you should be going out with your friends.” Eddie just walks away from you and into the living room. You quickly jump off the counter and follow him as he gets comfortable in his recliner. “You’re such an old man.” You tease as you cross your arms and lean against the back of the chair.

“Says the ghost that’s been around for how long?” You reach down and flick him in the back of the head causing him to look up at you with an annoyed glare in his eyes.

“I’ve only been a ghost for a few years you asshole.” You explain as you reach down and grab the remote from his hand while he’s too busy staring at you to notice. “So my statement still stands…you’re like an old man.” Eddie let’s out a huff as he turns his attention to the tv and sees you’ve put it on the food network.

“I’m not watching this fucking woman make pies and cakes all night again.” He argues making you laugh as you turn the volume up. “Is this your idea of torture? Are you here to just make me miserable?” You raise an eyebrow as you stand up straight so you can grab the back of his chair and spin him around so he’s face to face with you. “Jesus fuckin-”

“Do I make you miserable?” Eddie feel his heart drop at the sound of your voice, it’s a mixture of sadness and concern.

“What? No you don’t make me miserable.” He tries his best to reassure you as you stare into his eyes. “I uh love the food network it just…makes me hungry that’s all.” It’s not a complete lie but he figures it’s worth it because you just smile at him and hand him the remote.

“I used to bake.” You smile as a blurry memory comes to your mind of the weekends you used to spend in your kitchen baking things for your friends and family. “I think I was good at it.” Eddie just nods because even though you’ve only been haunting his trailer for a few months he doesn’t doubt your talents in the kitchen because half the time you tell him what the chef on the tv is making before they can even announce it.

“I’m sure you were.” Eddie smiles as you slowly spin his chair back around so he can see the tv, you walk around him and take a seat on the floor in front of his feet. “I have a couch you know.” He jokes before he takes another sip of his beer.

“The floor is ten times comfier than your sack full of rocks you call a couch.” You answer as you lean back so your back is resting against Eddie’s shins. “Oh she’s making a baked Alaska.” Eddie just smiles as he sips on his beer, maybe a Saturday night watching the food network isn’t so bad after all.

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evieismol · 2 months ago

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Big Bend Chapter Four - Workday

Wordcount: ~1800 words

Cw: language

“All ready?” John asked. I forced a small, close lipped smile as I looked down at the human standing on my desk. I didn't think I'd ever get used to how small humans were.

“Yeah.” I hoped I sounded convincing.

“Today’s going to go fine,” John said. Apparently I hadn't sounded convincing. “What's got you worried?”

I glanced to the side, shrugging. “Just nerves, I guess.”

“Hmm.”

“So, uh, should we get going?” I asked. To my relief, John nodded.

“I suppose Dave will be waiting for us soon.”

As I placed my hand down on the table for John to climb onto, I wondered if Dave would be waiting for us. I'd gotten the impression he wasn't thrilled about working with me. That, or he wasn't thrilled about me period.

Probably both. I could hardly fault any of the humans for being nervous about, well, me. Even if it wasn't for all the rumors on Earth about Aphirials being man eating monsters - which definitely didn't help - I was still dozens of times larger than them. A literal giant, comparatively.

In my so far brief interactions with him, Dave seemed…more nervous than my other coworkers, though. I pushed that thought from my mind to focus my attention on John, who had climbed into my palm and taken a seat. That felt like the sort of thing that required 110% of my attention. I was literally holding a life in the palm of my hand.

“I'm ready whenever you are,” John said. I nodded, telling him I'd stand up and make my way to the door before actually doing so. The morning air was still chilly when we walked out. It seemed like Earth was cooler than Aphiria in general. Even the desert heat here wasn’t too bad, which was a nice change. A less nice change was the comparatively shorter days and nights, which left me feeling like I hadn't slept nearly long enough.

John instructed me to set him down near an official park truck that was park outside of my trailer. I did so carefully.

“So, I was thinking I'd go pick up Dave and bring him back here, and we can give him the choice of either riding in the truck or with you. Once he's here, I'll go over the plan for the day.”

“Sounds good,” I said. I watched as John climbed inside the truck. I couldn't help but feel a little amazed watching it drive away, towards the employee dorms. It was the size of a toy car back on Aphiria, and despite that, was a fully functioning means of transportation. Watching it go, I idly wondered how heavy it would be.

Would picking it up feel the same as picking up a toy truck? Despite my mild curiosity, I wasn't in any hurry to find out. It also seemed like something that small with that many working parts would be terrifying easily to break.

It wasn't long before I saw the tiny truck returning, an equally small cloud of dust behind it. When it pulled up in front of me, John climbed out almost immediately. Dave was slower to emerge.

“Alright! So, we're going to take the truck, and you can follow us,” John announced. That was an unsurprising turn of events. He continued. “Now, I'm sure Dan will go over the actual, y'know, ranger stuff. I only oversee the whole Aphiria-Earth liasion bit, and I won't be meaning to step on any toes this summer. Just wanted to get that out of the way," John said. "We were going to head over to the eastern part of the park, look around, and then I believe you'll be meeting Dan later this afternoon. Basically, we're just trying to get to know each other this morning.”

Dave and I both nodded, agreeing. I saw his gaze flicker up to me and then quickly away.

“Easton, when you're following us, just make sure to stay at least a few truck lengths from us,” John said.

“I will,” I promised.

And with that, we were off. I made sure to stay a decent distance from the truck as it drove, keeping my gaze carefully focused on where I was stepping. It didn't seem like we'd been moving for too long when we came across a tunnel in the road. I carefully stepped around and over it once the truck had gone through. Shortly after that, the truck turned off into a small, gravel parking lot. I hung back, wanting to give them plenty of space to park and get out. Plus, it wasn’t like I'd fit in the parking lot anyways. As I waited, I took in my surroundings. The Chisos mountains and Panther Junction lay behind us. In front of the parking lot, beyond another stretch of desert, meanwhile, was the Rio Grande. From my vantage, I could see it clearly, though I wasn’t quite sure how it would look to the humans on the ground.

Compared to rivers back in Aphiria, the part I could see wasn't terribly huge - maybe a bit wider than I was tall. Glancing down at the small truck in the parking lot, which barely came up to my ankles, I could guess why it was considered notably large to the inhabitants of Earth, though.

“Great! We’re all here! Easton, you can take a seat if you like,” John exclaimed cheerfully as Dave climbed out of the truck. He shot another quick glance up at me. I tried to will myself to project a calming aura, if that was even possible as I sat down.

“So, right over is the Rio Grande - there’s an overlook right up that trail. I was thinking this would be a great place to get to know the park and each other! Why don't we start with an icebreaker.” He didn't wait for either of us to reply before costinking. “What’s the most boring fact about yourself you can think of right now?”

I looked over at Dave. The last thing I wanted to do was speak over him or cut him off. He briefly met my gaze, and I quickly looked away, now not wanting to seem like I was staring at him, because that seemed like it would give off the exact opposite of “calming aura”.

When neither Dave or I answered after a moment, John spoke again. “Fine, I'll start. I’ve been wearing the same brand of deodorant since college. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?”

I heard Dave let out a quiet snort at that.

John looked over at him. “What? You got something more boring than that?” His tone was light and teasing.

“I use 3 in 1 soap,” Dave said, sounding the most light hearted I’d heard him yet.

John put his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, you got me. How about you, Easton?”

At the mention of my name, Dave visibly tensed again. I felt like shrinking into myself at that. No pun intended.

“Uh, I organize my clothes by color and style,” I said.

“I can confirm this,” John said with a laugh. “He has the most organized closet I’ve ever seen. Even compared to me.”

“And here I am just shoving everything in a drawer,” Dave said. “On a good day.”

“That’s probably more efficient,” I offered. I had spent many an hour at this point folding and organizing things since arriving, which had served as a nice reminder as to why I’d never been big on moving. Despite continually making choices that necessitated it.

“Alright, time for round 2-” Before John could finish, we were interrupted by the sound of a car approaching from the opposite direction we’d arrived in. I felt my heart rate spike. I looked down at John for guidance on what to do.

“Just let me take the lead introducing you if they do stop,” John said. “We haven’t officially introduced you at the park yet, but there have been announcements about your employment here.”

I nodded. The car didn’t slow down or speed up as it approached the turn for the parking lot. I was almost certain it would just continue past when it abruptly veered into the parking lot at a turn that seemed far too fast too be safe, even aside from the lack of turn signal. Almost equally quickly, the car skidded to a halt. Moments later, a woman stepped out. She was so tan she was almost orange, with hair that was close to the same color as mine, albeit with more yellow tones. She paused for a moment, looking at me, and then looking over at Dave and John.

“So, I take it the rumors about you lot hiring an Aphirial weren’t just rumors,” she said flatly as she looked back to me. She had the sort of cold gaze I’d seen all too often with politicians and businessmen back on Aphiria - a sort of entitled detachment.

“That’d be correct,” John said. He walked over to her, extending a hand as he introduced himself. “I’m John O’Riley, with the IMA. This is Ranger Easton Parks and this is Ranger Dave Goodman.” He gestured to each of us in turn.

“Joy Everett. I better not see him trying to eat any of my cattle.” She said.

I had to stop myself from letting out a baffled “what?”.

“I can assure you ma’am, that won’t be any issue. Ranger Parks is following the same rules and procedures as any of our other rangers here, none of which include stealing and eating cattle. Isn’t that right?” John looked up at me.

I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m a vegetarian anyways.” I added the last part jokingly, hoping to diffuse the situation. Joy scoffed.

“Like those snowflake Californians?” She paused, then laughed. “You really expect me to believe that? Whatever. Just stay away from my cattle.”

She stalked back to her car, slamming the door.

“Nice to meet you!” John called. She flipped us off, screeching out of the parking lot as quickly as she’d entered. The three of us were silent.

“Well…she seems…nice. And definitely not like she’d call me a slur,” Dave finally said.

“You good?” John asked me. As if reminded I was there, Dave glanced up at me, worry suddenly glittering in his eyes. Not so much for me. More for what my reaction might be.

“I’m fine. Can’t please everyone,” I said carefully.

“Suppose that’s the truth,” John said. “I’ll mention it to Dan, see if he knows anything about her, since it sounds like she’s a local. Anyways, good job to both of you.”

Dave gave a tight smile, and I desperately wished there was something I could do to put the small man at ease. This was going to be a long day.

#g/t #giant/tiny #gt #sfw g/t #gt sfw #g/t oc #gt writing

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lokisbiiiitch1993 · 1 year ago

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Imagine trying to convince Loki to watch Barbie with you

The first time you saw the Announcement on the Internet - that there will be a Barbie Live Action - you got excited and you knew you have to watch it

Barbie was your Childhood - the Dolls , the Accessories - the Movies - the Nostalgia

The Trailer was fun to watch - but you secretly hoped it would be Psycho Thriller or was it just me ?

Thrilled that the Movie will soon be released in the Cinemas - you decided Loki should watch it with you

You tried to explain it to him - but all he hears Barbie is a Doll and he thinks it's for Kids

Then you started a very long Conversation about the Trailer that it looks hilarious to watch and telling him maybe you can find something relatable - How should I relate to a Doll - Loki asked curious?well hmm Nervously you told him to just to watch the Trailer - hoping he would figure it out himself without you having to explain what you mean - you don't want to make him feel uncomfortable

the line from Ken : it doesn't seem to matter what I do ,I am always number 2,no one knows how hard I try -made you think about Loki's Relationship with Odin and Thor - and Barbie suddenly being different than everyone else made you think about Loki too

You also told him a Barbie can be anything and anyone - a Doctor, Astronaut, Rockstar - there are also Barbies with different Skin Tones, Body Shapes, Hair Colors, Ethnicity's , Disabilities, Pregnant Barbies , Mermaids, Fairy's and many more - smiling at him you said I would love to have a Loki Barbie with all your Outfits,King Loki 👑- or even better a Frost Giant Doll would be cool to have you thought - Loki looks at you softly probably thinking you are so silly but he enjoys having all your Attention and loves your Excitement

Be like Barbie - you can be anything you want to be - you stated grinning

Come on, please go with me - next time you will decide which Film we watch - you plead with puppy eyes

I am sure I will regret it but alright I will go with you,my Love - he sighed but you know Loki will secretly enjoy it

My Masterlist

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alittlefrenchtree · 6 months ago

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I'm against any kind of hatred towards Nick because he "hates rwrb" because obviously that's not the case but I don't understand why we can't even express legitimate perplexity in the way he completely ignored (on social media) everything related to the film including the announcement of the sequel.

Today he will definitely announce the new project and ok, that's right, it's his job but isn't the sequel his project as well? Why doesn't that project deserve the same space on his socials? I don't understand why we can't talk about it in any way because we are immediately attacked by the throat and there is not the slightest possibility of exchanging an opinion and understanding.

ok, this one is polite and i’m too weak to resist talking about marketing stuff so i’ll bite.

Because there is nothing to talk about? Nick’s social media and instagram accounts are exclusively dedicated to promote what he has to promote (and also trying to be in Arsenal’s good graces, free tickets and all access invitations) and believe it or not, there is rules to follow with social media management.

Without talking about a ban or an exclusivity, there is still a schedule to follow when you promote something, similar projects on the same plateform and general logic about what you’re posting and when. When you share something, there is a goal to achieve. Remind your audience of a release date. Remind them they have your movie on their watch list and need to watch it (again). Lead them to like a post, to watch a trailer. Poke your favorite football so they notice you and give you stuff. Show to the people who are hiring actors to do stuff that you might not be a big name just yet but you’re hanging out with them and know how to wear expansive watch as well.

Breaking news, actor’s personal feelings is rarely on the list. Fan service for the pure purpose of fan service either (at least not in this case).

So regarding of the sequel, right now there is nothing to promote? Not a release date, not a teaser of a teaser of a teaser, not a visual (the generic ugly thing made in 5 minutes on canva.com isn’t a proper visual) not even the beginning of a shooting date. You don’t promote something when there is nothing to promote. The announcement was early, given that they had nothing to say about it except for Matthew and Casey writing it together. So it’s was mainly for fans. It doesn’t need Nick’s audience’s boost to spread the news because everybody who cares about rwrb (and also their grandmas) already know about the sequel. And there is nothing more to do at this point since there is nothing more to sell. Would it make sense if you were asking why there isn’t any billboard out there promoting the sequel? Like to say what? They didn’t even share a year for the movie. Not even a title 😭 So far it’s only a fan news.

So no, I don’t understand the perplexity (and even less the worse takes i’ve read out there). If you already know he cares about rwrb and its sequel, why would you need the validation of a random story or a random post?

That should be an opportunity for you and everybody who shares your feelings on that to ask yourself about what meaningless social media management bother you so much. That would be a more interesting question. Maybe it could help you make some of your relationships with people a bit healthier.

Took this one because i had free time on my hands while commuting, but i’m on my way to eat delicious food and next time i’ll have that much free time and energy on my hands will be in 9572847 business days so we’ll see if i’ll answer on any follow up on this conversation. Take care xx 💜 (and don’t forget to celebrate Nick’s announcement!! still on the Knives Out 3 boat personally)

#alft asks #nicholas galitzine

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ordinaryschmuck · 11 months ago

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What I Quickly Thought about What If...? Season Two

For those who don’t know, I’m one of the few people who actually enjoyed What If…? Season One for what it was. Did it take advantage of telling interesting tales with the MCU, giving us intense glimpses of these universes that showed us what COULD HAVE been? Not all the time. Was it still good dumb fun? To me it was. And that’s pretty much what What If…?, as a concept, was, even in the comics. Yeah, you got interesting stuff like “What if Spider-Man never became a crime fighter?” or “What if Daredevil was raised by The Kingpin?” but it also had stuff like “What if the Original Marvel Bullpen Became the Fantastic Four?” or “What if Sargent Fury Fought World War Two in Outer Space?” The comics were less about high-concepts and more about writers doing whatever the hell they wanted with the Marvel Universe and being able to have fun with it because, well, none of it was canon. The same applied to the MCU’s What If…?, as it was a chance for the writers to do a murder mystery with the Avengers or make T’Challa fix the universe as Star-Lord. They can kill characters, make dumb(er) jokes, and play around with the heroes and villains in the MCU like they were action figures. And I’m into that. Don’t get me wrong, I would love more episodes like “What if…Doctor Strange lost his heart instead of his hands?” or “What if…Ultron won?” as they DO have a lot of great moments and show off what these characters are capable of than what the movies/shows proved. But at the same time, I didn’t mind watching the big buff lady that is Captain Carter kill Nazis or watch Spider-Man and a band of heroes try to survive a zombie apocalypse. It’s a show where everyone is meant to just sit back, turn their brain off, and have some fun while occasionally getting something interesting. Again, just like the comics.

So when Season Two got announced, I was genuinely excited. I like Season One and I wanted more of it. Then when the trailer came out with an episode list, I thought, “Okay, this could be the show embracing comic book wackiness.” Now, not a lot of people were into that…In fact, the majority said that a lot of these concepts weren’t even interesting and were, instead, kind of lame. I don’t get it, maybe because I’m in the exact mindset the MCU wants me to have with this series, but I was still looking forward to Season Two. The question is, was it worth it? Well, let’s quickly go over each episode to find out.

Spoilers Ahead

What If…Nebula Joined the Nova Corps?: Ooooooooh, what a great start. Watching Nebula act as a cop/detective, but with her cold, deadpan badassery still intact was a ton of fun in this dark, gritty setting made for this new version of her. I loved watching this new version of Nebula make her way through a darkened Xandar, with her never straying from this oath and acting as it should be intended, all while teaming up with Howard the Duck of all characters. Like, I kind of enjoy seeing Howard turn out to be this sleazy casino owner who treats Nebula as a true friend despite them working on opposite ends of the law. The concept itself is funny and execution is endearing with Seth Green giving much needed charm to the character. It’s part of the fun of What If…?: Showing characters who couldn’t interact in the movies or didn’t have much screen time and allowing them another chance to shine…Unfortunately, that’s not always a good thing. Because while I love seeing a character like Howard make a surprisingly good comeback, watching Yon-Rog, one of the more boring MCU villains, show up and lack any intrigue or fun is just…no. And then there’s Nova Prime who decided to betray the entire Corp by taking down the force field…Something that was HER idea to do and, given the pull she had, could have done at any point. Why string Nebula along when Nova Prime could have just made the ruling herself that the force field needed to be taken down? A friend of mine tried explaining how it could make sense, but I don’t know. It doesn’t change this weird got while watching. But while flawed, it was pretty cool to see this new setting in the MCU, carried by Nebula as the Super Nova (Love that name, by the way. It’s perfect). The plot has a big ol’ hole, not every character return works, but it gave me a half-hour of fun so I’m not complaining (Get used to that thought process, by the way).

What If…Peter Quill Attacked Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?: And this one’s a little rough around the edges. It’s fun to see this alternate version of the Avengers form to fight a Peter Quill who has Ego’s powers, but it feels like the entire episode is on fast-forward, almost like this is what would happen if the first Avengers movie needed to be made thirty-minutes long. It’s sort of the downside of What If having a half-hour runtime, where it has to both tell a story and introduce us to this new universe in under thirty minutes. It’s the same with the comics that had less than thirty pages to do the exact same thing, only to feel longer because comic writers in the seventies and eighties don’t know how to shut the hell up. The end result is a story that’s fine ENOUGH, but it would have benefited with more time to slow down and let us appreciate this new team of old heroes. I mean, we have the original Captain Mar-Vel, T’Challa’s father, and even Goliath, which would have been AWESOME to see them play a big role. But instead, the episode focuses on Hank Pym, Bucky, and THOR, somehow, making these other heroes valued members but also a bit of an afterthought. Also, despite this being a different version of the Avengers, they somehow make MORE quips than the original team, with few of it feeling like it’s in character. It has the same problem as Age of Ultron where everyone is cracking jokes at every second as much as they can, and it HIGHLY depends on your willingness to stomach that kind of thing if you’re willing to watch this episode. That and if you’re willing to forgive a character doing this STUPID AND RISKY thing that worked out for the better but doesn’t change how stupid and risky it is. Overall, this whole episode is a very interesting idea mixed with some very FLAWED execution that spoils the fun to be had.

What If…Happy Hogan Saved Christmas?: Now this? All kinds of fun to be had with this one. The return of Justin Hammer of all villains isn’t something I thought I needed, but I heavily enjoyed watching what’s basically the anti-Tony Stark show up and be his most despicably charming self. It was a blast to watch this scrawny little twink TRY and act intimidating as he dances all over the place. It makes him feel more and more like a cartoon villain, which is appropriate for yuletide fun. You don’t NEED a menacing presence for Christmas, you need a GOOF. And Hammer’s the goofiest with his lame catchphrases and very STUPID dancing, I couldn’t get enough of it. But the real star is Happy, who gets juiced up for an adaptation I NEVER would have expected from the MCU. The Freak is one of the sides to Happy that not many fans would know about unless they’ve immersed themselves with Iron Man lore (Or read a shit load of comics for the past two years like me), but it really is cool to see that side of him brought to life. The way Happy looks and moves like more of a manic Hulk on crack does great at setting him apart from the Jolly Green Monster we know and love, but also makes The Freak feel more unique from how he was in the comics. It was a blast of a holiday special with the only downside is that Darcy’s OCCASIONALLY annoying. Not much other than that, though, as this is the best Christmas present I could ask from Marvel.

What If…Iron Man Crashed Into the Grandmaster?: Fun fact, this was originally meant to be in Season One but was cut due to time constraints. Yeah, remember how weird it was that the Watcher plucked a version of Gamora we didn’t know? Well, now we finally know…through a story that’s primarily about Tony Stark that makes me wonder why the hell The Watcher didn’t take him.

But facts and jokes aside, I loved the shit out of this episode. There are probably going to be some cynics out there saying that the cars and the race is an excuse to sell toys or LEGO sets or some shit, but I don’t care because everything about it was AWESOME!. Not to mention that it lit up a special place in my heart and brain to watch Tony Stark be a hero again, not hesitating to save lives, putting everything on the line, and helping bring Gamora into the light, all while still being his snarky, Starky self. And huge props to Mick Wingert voicing him, who doesn’t sound like Robert Downy Jr at ALL, but still nails the energy and mannerisms. I can picture RDJ saying all of these lines and it helps make this feel like one last Iron Man story for the fans. Seeing the Grandmaster again was ALSO a plus, as he was his same goofy-self. As for the real hook of this episode, Gamora, she’s…fine. I don’t love that it’s Tony that helped her redemption arc since I always preferred how turning against Thanos was something Gamora decided for herself instead of this thing that someone brought out. It’s not a BAD idea, but it’s something that might have worked better with NEBULA, a character that could actually USE convincing, instead of Gamora, a character who would likely go to Stark to help kill Thanos. Still, I don’t HATE it, nor do I hate the episode. It was an adrenaline thrill-ride that gave us a return of Tony where he DOESN’T die in the end. I couldn’t have asked for more if I heard this episode’s title, and I’m glad it’s what we’ve got.

What If…Captain Carter Fought the Hydra Stomper?: I…KIND OF understand the reception towards Captain Carter. I don’t get why Marvel keeps pushing her more than their actual Captain America replacement, Sam Wilson. I mean, Captain Carter showed up in three projects (two seasons of television and a movie), where Sam made his official appearance as Captain America once…and hasn’t even cameoed in any other movie or show. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like the big buff lady and it’s awesome seeing her fight the giant robot. It’s cool, I love it. I also heavily enjoyed this episode, getting into the drama, action, and seeing Peggy make a surprisingly believable friendship with Black Widow. Heck, I’d go so far as to say that this is a better Black Widow story than her actual movie gave us. So I like it, I like seeing Captain Carter and some of her adventures. I especially like that this story isn’t a direct rehash of Winter Soldier like how the first episode is a rehash of First Avenger. The writers actually set out to make something more unique and it makes me like Captain Carter a little more. I just wish we could get that same love and appreciation towards Sam Wilson, whose movie got pushed back to 2025 and will count as the only time this character has been relevant since his mini-series. If this is our new leader of the Avengers and the man who will fight to save the multiverse, we’re probably going to need more than one appearance from the guy. I don’t think people would complain about more Captain Carter if Sam Wilson’s Captain America wasn’t so blatantly shoved too far to the side.

What If…Kahhori Reshaped the World?: One of the few rare times the MCU made an ORIGINAL superhero. There is no previous comic, movie, or show that Kahhori is based on. She’s a completely original character made up for this franchise, much like Miles Morales in the Ultimate universe or X-23 in X-Men Evolution (Check that show out, by the way. It’s pretty damn good). And just like those two, I REALLY hope Kahhori manages to become such a hit with audiences that she spawns more content, because Kahhori and her world is something I would love to revisit. Her personality is fun, her motivation is inspiring, and her powers are unique enough to make her stand out more to the other heroes in the MCU. As for her story, it’s your bare-bones origin story. The whole episode is about explaining her powers, the world she lives in, and the people she loves and fights for. It does all this while proving her heroics through fighting a supervillain set out to do some damage. Only, instead of some generic supervillain that matches her powers it’s this Spanish Conquistador who…honestly still looks like a supervillain, which is kind of funny. And it works for Kahhori, proving that while she’s currently the most powerful person in the world, she’s willing to fight against oppression and the monarchy, advocating for peace instead of a continuous war for who gains the most control. Like I said, that’s inspiring and it’s why I want to see more of this character and how far she can go when fighting bigger, more evil threats than the Queen of Spain. Whether it’s a spin-off TV show/movie, a comic mini-series, or even introducing Kahhori into the 616 comics (somehow), I wouldn’t mind seeing this new, wonderful hero more in the future.

What If…Hela Found the Ten Rings?: I…did not expect to like this one as much as I did. I wasn’t the BIGGEST fan of Hela, because aside from seeing her actress having a blast to go full ham, there wasn’t much to her. Yeah, she was this conqueror alongside Odin, which is an interesting backstory for HIM, but for Hela, it’s not enough. Instead of telling me WHO she is, Thor: Ragnarok kept telling me WHAT she was. Then here comes an episode of What If…? that not only gives me that answer, but a lot more. Sure, the first half is a bit wonky, but when we get to the second, we finally get an idea of who Hela is. Simply put, Hela doesn’t know who she is beyond a conqueror, and that’s because Odin never trained nor raised her to be anything more. This episode forces Hela to face that and discover answers she never knew she was seeking, having a surprisingly decent redemption, becoming a goddess of life instead of death. I…love that. I love that WAY MORE than I could have expected to love it. It makes me appreciate Hela a lot more and maybe see that there’s a tragedy to her in Thor: Ragnarok. Hela could have changed for the better if she met someone that could bring her good side out, but because she was banished into isolation by Odin, it caused Hela to be both spiteful and vengeful, making her refuse any alternative beyond being a conqueror or a goddess of death, with her final acts of life being someone who destroyed her home because destruction was all she knew. This episode has a better, more unique story to tell than Hela and Wenwu fighting over the Ten Rings to see who can cause more destruction. Speaking of, if there’s one thing to complain about the episode, it’s how underutilized Wenwu is to the story. He’s actually one of MY favorite MCU villains and it feels weird that he’s just…kind of there? Most of the meat to the story goes to Hela, and I do appreciate it, but Wenwu could have done more than wanting to bone Hela or assisting her in fighting Odin. But aside from that, I’d still say that this is a fantastic episode that surpassed my expectations.

What If…The Avengers Assembled in 1602?: Of all the episodes, this is the one I was looking forward to the most. I’m a sucker for seeing characters in a different setting. They’re very much the same in terms of personality but their differences vary from positions in life or the skills they’re capable of. It’s no different here, as so much of this feels like a period piece fanfic where the writers seemed to have so much fun making the Avengers be in 1602. And I don’t give a shit if people hate her, I LOVE that Captain Carter refuses to leave this world until she saves it from complete collapse. It would have been the same if it was Steve Rogers, I get that, but how do you expect me to hate a hero who’s willing to fight with her last breath to save the world? Those are my favorite kind of superheroes! You want me to give up what I love most about superheroes just because you don’t like that the big buff lady fights King Thor and his vibranium thunder sword? F**k you.

Also, this comes with the added benefit of watching big buff Steve and big buff Peggy constantly being on the VERGE of wanting to rip their clothes off and f**k each other whenever they’re on screen together. And, honestly, I can't blame them. They’re both gorgeous. LET THEM F**K!

Overall, I had fun, even if there are problems. Sure, the reveal that Steve is indirectly the cause of this universe’s collapse is way too predictable, no thanks in large part to the trailers SPOILING IT! And it’s pretty weird that Scott can still shrink and grow. Like…How can he do that in this setting? Also, this universe has a merry band of misfits that’s similar to Robin Hood, and there’s not even a SINGLE Hawkeye in it? Not even Kate Bishop? COME ON NOW! Come on now…

But, yeah, this episode is the perfect epitome of what makes What If…? enjoyable to me. It can offer you a fun concept of having the Avengers be in 1602 and just ask you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. Not everyone’s going to be into that, but I am and I could take ten more seasons of this if I could.

What If…Strange Supreme Intervened?: You want me to hate the big buff lady and new MCU character Kahhori fighting Strange Supreme and a whole gaggle of universe killers just because *checks notes* Captain Carter is a Mary Sue? F**k you. I don’t care if you feel like Captain Carter is forced upon you, she punched a demonic Doctor Strange in the face with the power of INFINITY. That is awesome no matter WHO the character is and if you can’t appreciate it, then I guess this show really isn’t for you. As for the finale, the whole thing is awesome as this big fireworks show to close out the season, added with Strange Supreme going back to the dark side for the sake of reviving his universe. I’ll admit that Strange Supreme had a bit of a forced redemption last season, so it is great for this finale to prove that he is, in fact, still twisted inside while allowing him to earn a more true redemption in making up for his actions. It makes his tragedy STILL feel like a tragedy, giving everyone but him a happy ending. And, again, he got punched in the face with the power of infinity. F**k all you haters, this show’s great.

Season Two is a definite improvement to Season One. Sure, the pacing is wonky, the jokes are trying too hard, and animation can look gorgeous at times but ugly at others. But the writing’s stronger, the concepts are bigger, the fun’s funner, and I got to see a woman punch a demon in the face with the power of infinity–I keep bringing that up because it is so damn awesome. And it’s the same with this show! It just fuels that part of my brain that wants to see cool, comic book shit happening. It’s not for everyone, I know that. It’s neither good nor bad, it’s just…subjectively fun. It’ll either light up your world or leave you wanting more substance than dumb fun. I enjoyed the hell out of this season, but others won’t for their own reasons (some of them being that they just hate Captain Carter). They can feel that way all they want. Still won’t change how I enjoyed the hell out of this season and look forward to more.

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu #mcu reviews #captain carter #nova nebula #marvel what if #what if season 2 #kahhori #mcu the freak #happy hogan #mcu hela #hela #justin hammer #strange supreme #tony stark #iron man

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