#hot shots part deux

[admiraltusktooth69]

Incorrect Vox Machina #14 Zahra: Oh, Vex’ahlia, how could you have been so blind? Zahra: You always too wrapped up in being Miss Perfect College to notice me. Zahra: Why should you concern yourself with the feelings of one insignificant roommate? Zahra: One fabulous day, one incredible experience. Vex: I had no idea it meant so much to you. Zahra: I remember that day as if it were yesterday. Zahra: The exhilaration of experimenting, sharing something so new, so dangerous, so intimate. Pike: Go on. Vex: And I’ll never forget the look on your face. Vex: The way the sweat glistened on your hard body. Vex: Then you tied my ankles. Tighter. Tighter. Vex: But it just wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural. Vex: Bungee-jumping is just too dangerous a sport. Pike: Bungee-jumping? That’s it?

[retrokid616]

drip check on chetney like

[madman731]

More DVD rewatches!

[victusinveritas]

[finitevariety]

I could have fixed her

[ladiesandgenerals]

[soupy-sez]

HOT SHOTS! PART DEUX (1993) dir. Jim Abrahams

[elfoscuro]

Duel of the Fates

Alec Guinness vs David Prowse in Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope (1977) by George Lucas

Bill Pullman vs Rick Moranis in Spaceballs (1987) by Mel Brooks

Lloyd Bridges vs Jerry Haleva in Hot Shots! Part Deux (1993) by Jim Abrahams

[monk-of-figaro]

Sabin "McBain" Figaro

I realized something recently about this artwork of Sabin by Yoshitaka Amano.

(Weirdly, there don't seem to be any high-resolution scans of this artwork, at least not that I could find.)

This artwork was the first time I saw Sabin, way way waaaaaaay back in the issue of Nintendo Power (👴) that featured FF6.

All this time, I had thought that this artwork was of Sabin climbing up a mountain. But a few weeks ago, I looked at this artwork again and Sabin is 100% NOT climbing up a mountain. In fact, I don't know how I could have thought otherwise for so many years!

Nothing about the terrain looks natural. Everything appears to be metallic, smooth, and industrial-looking. There are even plumes of dark smoke in the background. How or why I thought he was scaling a mountain is beyond me.

Given the world of FF6 - and given the unnatural appearance of his environment - I'd guess that he's in or near Vector. The other industrial areas of the world, such as Figaro and Narshe, are not portrayed with such grimness.

Interestingly, Amano's portrayal of Sabin varies; I feel like he's either depicted as a lithe, semi-brooding naturalist, or as a hyper-masculine, Rambo-esque drill sergeant.

I suppose in a way, both of those are aspects to Sabin's personality, but the Sabin in my headcanon leans more towards the former.

(I'll also note that Rambo-Sabin appears to have a receding hairline and seems to be shouldering a gun, and one of those feels extremely uncharacteristic for him.)

I wonder why Amano depicts Sabin in such differing forms. Certainly his portrayal of FF6 characters went through a series of prototypes (hello peppermint Interceptor), so was Rambo Sabin an earlier prototype or a later one?

Anyway, it blows my mind that I had mistaken the context of the first artwork of Sabin I'd ever seen. Even though that artwork portrays Sabin Schwarzenegger using his macho strength to climb... I dunno, a tank or something?... I still think of Sabin as being less militaristic and more agrestalistic.

And if he HAS to be compared to a hardcore army veteran action hero, it should only be Topper Harley.

[thedailyque]

Hot Shots! Part Deux (1993)

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

Elmer: You don't understand. I can't walk...the wabbit tied my shoewaces together. Pvt. Snafu: A knot! Rascal!

[schlock-luster-video]

Remembering Rambo trilogy star Richard Crenna on the anniversary of his date of birth.

R.I.P. (1926 - 2003)

[healed1337]

War Movies Month 4 - Hot Shots! Part Deux

War Movies Month 4 – Hot Shots! Part Deux

As much as war is a serious subject, whenever I do a War Movies Month on this blog, I like to talk about at least one movie that shouldn’t be taken seriously. Last time, I looked at Hitler: Dead Or Alive, a movie from the early 40s about a bunch of gangsters sent to assassinate Hitler. At the time, it was propaganda movie encouraging America’s involvement in the Second World War. In hindsight,…

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

So, in addition to a preview of the Norm one-shot, I've got this look at part one of a long-form two-shot that's been sitting in my drafts since I was about halfway through my first run of the show. I have a (now quite old) ask that fit the vibe of it perfectly, and I've been whittling away at it when the inspiration strikes. I still have quite a bit of work to do on it, including edits, as I'm predicting a final length between 13k-15k words. Could end up more, as I'm really terrible at this sort of estimation, but I wanted to let everyone know I'm still hard at work in the smut mines even if posts have been light lately. Please enjoy a preview from this upcoming Cooper Howard/The Ghoul piece:

Faim Pour Deux

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), angst, drug use, jealousy, mild violence, age gap, sexually rusty old men, amateurish strip teases, nipple play, fingering, dry humping, reader not-so-subtly trying to tempt Cooper to fuck her until he snaps.

"Why don't you get a little more comfortable, darlin'?" Cooper asked, his tone brighter now, a step closer to the normal, cocky timbre you'd known him to have, but still soft as the patter of the rain on the dilapidated roof as he gestured to your unzipped vault suit. "Hop up and take that off for me."

You didn't hesitate to follow his instructions, though you struggled to figure out how to back up off of his lap as your feet dangled off the floor. Cooper offered no assistance, sitting back to watch you slide yourself backwards towards his knees, your cleavage spilling out of your undershirt as you pushed yourself with your hands. Once you found your feet, cheeks already hot from your fumbling dismount, you toed out of your boots before clearing your throat, hands coming up to your navel to grab at the cool metal zipper where it hung, half-undone.

"Take a couple steps back so I can see all of you."

This command took you somewhat by surprise, but, again, you obeyed, double checking the floor behind you before taking two steps back, avoiding his eyes. Rethinking your approach, you grabbed your left sleeve by the wrist in your right hand, tugging it awkwardly to free your arm, jerking the tight material down over your sore bicep in a rather unsexy move before twisting to repeat the move on the right.

Twilight was quickly turning to night, and the few chem lamps you'd set up only provided enough light to see well a few feet in front of you. Shyly, you stole a quick glance his way, struggling to make out any details at this distance, save for the shape and slight glint of his flask as he lifted it to his mouth and took a long draw off of it. His entire upper body was almost completely shrouded in the deepening shadows, but you could see those eyes, sunken deep into that face, glittering darkly at you, trained on you.

"Slowly, now." came that rough voice once more, slightly muffled by the back of his hand passing over what remained of his lips. "Gimme a little show."

You felt your face instantly flame up twice as hot as it had been, your already fluttering heart shifting up another gear into a full-on thunder. You had no idea what he meant—undressing itself wasn't enough of a show? Were you supposed to sing and dance while you did it? Recite US Presidents?

A handful of heartbeats passed, and you realized you were hesitating, but the ghoul in the corner didn't say anything. Your focus shifted, warily, back to removing your remaining sleeve, choosing to work it down from the shoulder instead, this time, focusing on the "slowly" until you could figure out the "show" part. After a few moments, you'd worked the top half of the grimy vault suit down to your hips, letting the arms hang loose at your sides.

If Cooper objected to the way you were going about things, he kept quiet about it, which would be uncharacteristic. He sat, still staring at you, reclined back in the chair as he reached for something else on the table beside him. The familiar sound of a shaking Jet container filled the air as you grabbed the stained, barely-mended tank by the hem, peeling it over you head, leaving you in nothing but your now sad, ratty bra above the waist. The hiss of the canister buzzed down your spine as the material passed over your eyes, giving you goosebumps as you looked to him once more, feeling drawn to that gaze. Your hands moved back to your waist to push the garment the rest of the way down, brushing across your soft abdomen on the way.

The ghoul interrupted you, wordless, his mouth fixed in a sort of pucker as he held the hit of Jet deep in his lungs. He snapped quickly, sharply, his free hand raising up off of the scuffed chair arm, his sewn-on index finger pointed to the ceiling, drawing a series of tight, quick circles with it. You'd seen that gesture before, you realized, feeling that squirming feeling in your gut again. Quickly, you turned to face the door, your back now pointing at your companion.

The feeling of his intense stare still burned into your back, but knowing that, at least for a moment, he couldn't see your face, couldn't read every single thought and emotion off of your like he seemed to so often be able to, let you breathe slightly easier. The arousal that simmered between your thighs was rolling into a boil as you pushed your rear out, back towards him, bending forward ever-so-slightly at the waist as you slowly, slowly rolled the increasingly restricting suit down over your buttocks.

You could swear you heard him sigh in the dark.

Shimmying until the entire garment hit the floor, pooling around your ankles in a faint cloud of dust, you stepped out of it as delicately as possible, sliding it beside your bag with your foot. As you straightened back to your full height, you decided to turn and face him, making eye contact as he took another hit from the inhaler, setting it aside as he leaned back fully into the chair. He tilted his head sideways at you, studying you for a few quiet seconds.

"Let your hair down." he said, voice strained with exhalation.

It took a moment to wrestle your hair down from the old elastic that kept it out of your face, but when the tendrils tickled down your back at last, it made you shiver, your body tingling.

The old man was silent for several seconds, looking you up and down with an expression that was tough to decipher. You'd almost begun to worry that he didn't like what he was seeing before one of his hands snaked down from the arm rest into his lap, palming at his crotch visibly. The other hand extended towards you, that deadly trigger finger crooking towards you commandingly, his gaze never leaving you.

"C'mere, kiddo."