#i also swear not one excellent was uttered or triumphant

[stuckasmain]

Bill and Ted’s BOGUS Journey

yall, wtf wtf wtf wtf

before i start with my usual bullet points and respectfully tear the film apart let me say that i did enjoy the film, it was turn your brain off fun! but looking at it as a sequel to bill and ted? it is most non triumphant. like would you have REALLY guessed what the first movie was about? like idk. it was funny and had some good moments but i got a bad feeling. the boys behavior didn't give me the same absolute glee it had before, there was not the charm or really charecter? They seam more just... plain dumb then charming? idk how to explain it. they also don't really talk or act like themselves either , its like a poorly done temporary tattoo, not everything translated over. like i didn't here a single excellent or triumphant anything like that it was always either bogus or heinous or most not not heinous (REALLY?) or really using most. idk they just didn't feel completely them to me. again temporary tattoo , the idea of the shape but not the image

- we open with our establishment of the battle of the bands being the crux. however this is barely mentioned AT ALL and is mainly used for the fight in the final act and not much else. oh are we going to see practice? improvement? no as they do a time cop out so they can actually play for their to be a music number which gets me to my next point

- the romance. so them proposing was actually super adorable to watch and the like vending machine rings? my heart. however what gets me is we JUST learn the babes names for them to still not really be in the film all that much AGAIN. i really would have liked to see more development on screen past Ted being a total puppy!(ill still maintain bill, would have been better with Joan as they actually had something... however alter history is a no no so nvm. then again bill and ted could just be together ngl...) so my gripe with the skip to know how to play the guitars thing is BABIES. im sure their old enough... idk what ages their supposed to be in this or the last one. but SURE OK.KIDS. it also... weirdly makes the princesses look like WAY old????

- this is a nitpick but im like 99% sure the guitar riff is different.

-fellas you ever confess your love for each other but robot you is homophobic? 

-also missy? so they had her now married to Teds dad? gross. i get she's “kind of” a slut but why? its literally only used so Bill can say the “its your mom” line to ted... also to add why does Bill call missy mom then?? shouldn't it be ted? also her seance group? what's that about?

- the ghost editing will be the death of me

- the hell sets (in the rooms) all look really tim burton-y . nice

- TED “THEODORE” LOGAN CALLED SATAN HIMSELF THE F SLUR AND THAT IS BEAUTIFUL. 

- Death, i have nothing bad to say about you. your doing amazing sweetie.

- STATION. ive never been so baffled, amused and scared in my life. Never forget Ted called...its? Their? butt hot. 

- not enough Rufus smh even less screen time for shame yall. 

Over all its a interesting movie and i LIKE the idea of the whole afterlife idea however its not really done in a way that it should for something thats a sequel to a TIME TRAVEL movie???? i kept waiting for them to go back to before they died or something like that? i mean cmon, all they really do with it is get the bad guys ( and Rufus) there and back and pull the same well remember the keys trick. 

it is a fun film but just... as a sequel? its... well bogus. im sorry it kinda is, the humor is good but different (idk how to explain) same with how Bill and ted themselves act. So frankly Excellent adventure is the way better film and its wack i don't see as much love for that one as i do this.

anything not really noted i liked, forgot about or found funny as again its not a bad movie just  bad as a sequel

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Case Closed

note: Chris talked law on Prime Time again last night, so I felt inspired to write a second part of my Lawyer!Chris fic (you can read the first part HERE) sorry for eventual typos

enjoy :)

words: 2900

warnings: swearing, smut (dirty talk, oral, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it irl, please))

“Your honor, the jury finds the defendant guilty of all charges.”

Oh. OH.

This was absolutely glorious. You couldn’t dance in court, of course, but on the inside, you were definitely having a victory parade.

A triumphant grin split your face as your gaze wandered across the courtroom over to the defense desk.

Chris Cuomo, the defense lawyer, looked absolutely crestfallen. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and he couldn’t even utter a word. Serves him right, smug bastard, you thought.

You had made an excellent case, a new witness and some very compromising documents were able to convince the jury of the defendants guilt despite all of Cuomo’s efforts to keep his incredibly whealty client out of jail.

The judge announced the sentence, and now Chris just slammed his fist on the table. This was getting better and better, but you told yourself to keep your smugness at bay, no need to stoop as low as your opponent and gloat.But there was something else you definitely needed to do, something you couldn’t let Christopher Charles Cuomo get away with.

After the defendant was taken away and you had packed up all your papers, you slowly made your way over to his desk.

“So, I was wondering if you are going to keep that horrendous tie on for dinner tonight? Because I plan on wearing a dress and I would hate for us to clash color-wise, you know.” You said, barely able to remain serious.

The look he gave you was so murderous, it sent a shiver down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was out of fear or arousal. You were still a bit sore from your encounter in the parking lot yesterday, and you really hoped on repeating it. Riling him up was just foreplay to you.

“If you’re really suggesting that I will take you out for dinner after that dirty game you played today, you are even crazier than in originally thought.” he hissed. The vein on his temple was back, pulsating as if it was threatening you.

“Dirty game?” you almost shouted, then pulled yourself together so you wouldn’t draw the attention of the people still lingering in the courtroom.

“Your client was guilty as hell, even you with your twisted sense of morality should see that. And you lecturing me about playing games, pot calling the kettle black.” You whispered furiously, unable to keep your unfazed façade on any longer.

“About dinner, you invited me yesterday, so you’re either not a man of your word or a coward. Maybe even both.”

You hit home with that, you could see that on the way Cuomo’s fists clenched around the papers he was holding, scrunching them up. Men were so predictable, you thought, call them a coward and they will do every stupid thing in the book to prove you wrong.

But you wanted dinner and, most of all, dessert, so playing into his insecurities was fair game this once.

“There’s a new Italian place on 5th avenue, across from the Public Library. I know the owner, I’ll get us a table. Be there at eight.” He muttered and was gone in a hurry.

Of course he knew the owner.

“I look forward to it.” you called after him, fake cheeriness in your voice.

+++

As agreed, you stood in front of the restaurant at eight. You wore your favorite dress, it was bright red and showed just the right amount of both legs and cleavage. You thought that you looked stunning, and you knew Cuomo would appreciate the look as well.

The roar of an engine pulled you out of your thoughts, and you spun around to where a familiar black SUV was pulling up. You rolled your eyes, if you didn’t know it better you’d think Cuomo was compensating with that car.

It stopped and he emerged on the driver’s side. And Lord help you, he looked fantastic. He wore a tight-fitting black suit and a white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, showing a peak of tanned skin beneath. You wanted to climb him like a tree in the middle of 5th avenue. The confident, almost arrogant way in which he carried himself was infuriating and incredibly hot at the same time. Why was he so attractive while being such an asshole?

Your thoughts about his appearance were clearly written all over your face, because when he addressed you, he sounded even more smug than usual.

“Hi, Y/L/N, enjoying the view? I have to admit, you really clean up nice, I’m impressed.”

“Shut it, Cuomo.” You said, unable to suppress a smile. “You don’t look too horrible yourself.”

“Come on, I look great and we both know it.” he chuckled. And of course, he was right, but his ego was already big enough, no need to feed it any more.

“You look alright, I guess, but don’t to get ahead of yourself.” You said, “And now you better take me inside so I can have the amount of wine I need to make your company tolerable.”

+++

The food was absolutely delicious, and the wine the waiter recommended was so good that the two of you drank a whole bottle. It was Friday anyway, so no need to hold back.

What was really shocking too you was how good the conversation was. After a bit of initial bickering and arguing about which country produced the best red wine, you slowly started getting more comfortable with each other. The atmosphere was eased by the wine and you discovered that Chris wasn’t a completely horrible person.

Yes, he was a smart arse and cocky, and so fucking full of himself, but he was also incredibly clever, had surprisingly progressive views and on top of all he loved dogs!

When he told you that his favorite food were his mother’s spaghetti marinara, you could not suppress a little “aaw”. He looked at you funnily, but you just gave him a smile.

Your were slightly confused. This evening was supposed to be about you eating some fancy food for free and getting on Cuomo’s nerves (and maybe getting laid later).

But now, you were actually enjoying his company, and he didn’t seem hostile towards you, either. He hadn’t even brought up the trial, or how you allegedly played him dirty. Instead, he was actually listening to what you had to say and engaged into meaningful conversation.

You really were surprised, and when he was signing the bill later, you took your time to appreciate his appearance again while taking your newfound knowledge about him into consideration. Maybe he wasn’t the devil in person. Maybe, there was an actual decent human being under that expensive suit.

The two of you decided to go for a little after-dinner walk in the nearby Bryant Park, your favorite in NYC, and, as is turned out, Chris’ as well. Conversation shifted to growing up in New York and how your experiences differed from each other. But, as you found out, Chris actually grew up in a Queens neighborhood not too far from your own home, a fact that surprised you immensely.

“I could’ve sworn you were born on the Upper East Side.” You admitted “You certainly look and act the part.”

“I’m not gonna lie, prep school and Ivy and Law school certainly played a role in this. And of course, the firm I’m working for is high end. You’re expected to conduct yourself in a certain way. It’s a shark tank, you eat, or you get eaten. But I don’t have to tell you that.” His voice was quiet, almost wistful. He sounded like a totally different person.

“If that’s Queens Chris I met tonight, then I like him a lot better than this Cuomo guy from court.” You said, stopping and looking up to meet his blue eyes.

“You’re not the only one, I like him better as well.” He replied, meeting your gaze and reaching out to take your hand. His fingers were warm and rough as they intertwined with yours, holding his hand felt shockingly natural.

There were definitely sparks flying now, you could not deny it. You were drawn to this guy, and not only because of his good looks, but really attracted to the person behind the persona, you desperately wanted to know more about him.

“Tell me.” You whispered. “How did this happen? We were about to kill each other this afternoon and now were standing here, holding hands?”

“You tell me.” He murmured, and then he leaned down to kiss you. It was nothing like you expected, he was tender, gently cupping your jaw with his large hand, his thumb stroking over your cheek. His lips were soft and pliant against yours, a contrast to how hard and broad his body felt when you leaned against him to deepen the kiss.

The hand that was previously holding yours slipped around your waist and pulled you closer. You fisted your hands into the lapel of his suit jacket and what began as an innocent kiss grew increasingly steamy.

You groaned as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue inside your mouth and reached up to grab the short hair at the nape of his neck. He hissed into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening.

You felt heat starting to pool between your legs and telling from the bulge that was beginning to press against your abdomen, Chris was sharing your sentiments.

“How fast is that ridiculous car of yours?” you panted, a bit breathless from the kiss.

“Very fast.” He replied, a grin on his slightly flustered face.

“How about we take this to your place before we get in trouble for public indecency?”

“You weren’t that concerned about it yesterday.” He chuckled “But I don’t care for the headlines either, so let’s go.”

+++

The door to Chris penthouse (you were right, of course he had a penthouse) slammed shut, and a second later, you were pressed against it by two strong arms. Chris effortlessly pinned your body against the wood with one hand while the other one fumbled with the side zipper of your dress.

The garment dropped to the floor, leaving you with only a matching black set of underwear on. Chris eyes wandered over your body and he swore under his breath before attacking your bare neck with his mouth, kissing and sucking on the skin, probably leaving another bruise.

“You’re really marking me like a fucking caveman, Cuomo.” You gasped, the effect of his lips on your skin evident, you were already slick with need.

“Come on, Y/N, you know you enjoy it.” he whispered, and you only groaned as an answer as he softly bit the junction of your neck and shoulder. You could hear his dark chuckle before his hand started to unclasp your bra, exposing your tits to the cool air of the hallway.

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, and you couldn’t suppress a whimper at the feeling of his hot mouth against your sensitive skin. Slowly, his large hand wandered between your legs, rubbing your pussy through your panties before pulling this last item of clothing down as well, only your black high heels remaining.

Releasing your hands, Chris slowly dropped down to his knees and grabbed one of your ankles to prob your leg over his shoulder. You let out a sharp hiss as his mouth wandered to your inner tight, leaving a trail of soft kisses before he reached your center. His fingers slowly dipped into your wet folds, spreading your arousal before he started to lightly circle your clit with his tongue. You cried out and threw your head back against the door, one of your hands fisted into his curly hair, pushing him closer between your legs.

“So bossy.” He murmured. “And so fucking wet for me.” Suddenly, he pushed two of his thick fingers into you while harshly sucking on your bud. White, hot pleasure surged through your body as you came on the spot, your knees almost giving up as you bucked against Chris’ face, coating it with your arousal.

“Fuck.” You whispered, slowly coming down from your high. Chris got up, looking very pleased with himself. You grabbed him by his dress shirt, pulling him in for a deep kiss and grinding your naked core against his very prominent erection.

“Bedroom. Now.” He groaned against your lips and kissed you again. Your hands were busy unbuttoning his shirt, tearing it from his body. It joined the rest of the clothes on the floor. You took a moment to admire his now exposed, well-muscled torso. He looked like fucking Greek god, and you wanted to run your hands and tongue over every inch of his tanned, smooth skin. You needed him, now.

“Fuck me right here, I don’t care.” You whispered, palming his erection before starting to work on his zipper.

“Filthy girl. You want me to rail you against the door.” Chris murmured, before pulling his pants down along with his underwear. His cock sprung free, hard and heavy, making your mouth water. With a swift motion, he grabbed your tights, effortlessly lifting you up against the door. The blunt display of strength just made you even wetter, your hands were grabbing his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Stop talking and fuck me already, Cuomo.” You groaned, and a second later, he pushed his cock into you, the sudden stretch making you cry out in pleasure. He wasted no time, immediately starting a hard, fast pace.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Chris hissed through clenched teeth. “You are so fucking tight. Taking my cock so perfectly.”

“Shit, Chris, please keep moving, just like that.” You whimpered as he fucked you relentlessly, a stained expression on his face. He never slowed down his thrusts while he was holding you, it was like watching somebody run a marathon. Seeing him handle you like that was mesmerizing, bulging muscles glistening with sweat, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. You were starting to feel slightly dizzy as your head hit the wooden door with each thrust, but you didn’t care.

Chris leaned forward to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, biting into your lower lip and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You let out a guttural cry as he eased his grip on your ass a bit, making you sink down onto his cock even more. The different angle created a totally new sensation, causing both of you to groan as Chris was thrusting into you even deeper now. A powerful, burning feeling was beginning to form in your lower stomach, quickly spreading through your whole body with every hard snap of his hips. Chris name was falling from your lips like a chant now, begging him to keep fucking you, to go harder, deeper.

“Who would’ve thought that you’d beg me to fuck you against my front door.” Chris said in a husky, breathless voice, never slowing down his thrusts. “Little Miss Perfect is not so perfect after all, huh?”

You couldn’t answer, your mind was fuzzy, and the only thing existing was the feeling of Chris, his large hands grabbing your ass, his hot breath on your skin, his cock filling you over and over again.

You were already hanging on the edge of your orgasm, but when he leaned down to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your shoulder, the raw pain and the sheer possessiveness of the gesture were the push you needed to spiral down into your climax.

You came with a shout, your whole body convulsing, squirming against Chris. He moaned as he felt your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing him until he came as well, calling out your name, his cock buried so deep inside you that you were sure you’d be limping tomorrow.

Neither of you moved for a minute, your sweaty foreheads pressed against each other as you tried to catch your breath. After a moment, Chris carefully pulled out and lowered you onto the floor before collapsing next to you with a huff. His hair was sticking to his forehead and his breath was tickling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. You were surprised by that motion, you had expected a cocky comment or a crude joke, but not this.

When he broke the kiss, you could see his trademark smirk spreading over his face as he inspected the hickey he left on your neck, tracing it with his fingers.

“I might really be into leaving marks on you.” He said, “A little reminder of the good time I gave you.”

“You really are just a caveman, aren’t you? Also, it seemed as if you enjoyed yourself as well.” you replied, your hand involuntarily reaching out to play with a lock of hair that clung to his face.

“I did, immensely so. In fact,” he said, voice going serious for a moment. “I’d like to repeat it, sometimes. Maybe even with another dinner, if you would like that.” His face was passive, but there was a softness in his eyes that you haven’t seen before.

“Are you really asking me on a date, Cuomo?” you exclaimed, the fake astonishment masking the giddy excitement you felt about the question. You wanted to go out with this idiot so bad, you could hardly believe it yourself.

“Looks like it, huh.” He murmured, and if you didn’t know it better you would’ve thought he was embarrassed.

“Hey, I’d love to go out with you, Chris.” Your voice was as sincere as you felt.

Chris gave you a brilliant smile, then winked at you.

“You know, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyway.”

[batgurl1989]

Running With The Wolf Chapter Four

Summary: You and Geralt explore Novigrad, getting ready to take down the real killer

Word Count: 1850

Warnings: As always Spoilers

A/N: If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know :)

Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

Taglist: @rmtndew​ @princesssterek​ @djinny-djin-djin​ @cynic-spirit​ @henrynerdfan​

Chapter Four

You and Geralt searched for evidence all over the city. From the Harbour all the way to Gildorf in the northernmost part of the city, Geralt chased down any clue that might have led to the real killer. A trail of blood here. A scent to follow there. An eyewitness swearing up and down that they saw the whole thing. The pieces alone didn’t mean much. In a city like Novigrad, there were probably a couple murders a night. But when put all together, the evidence seemed to point to someone who wasn’t Dandelion.

When you brought this theory to the King of Beggars, he was willing to listen, just as you expected. When you told him you thought it was nobleman who had paid to have the spy killed, Francis nodded along, agreeing that it made sense. Every day, they received information on the rich of the city, which in turn was useful to someone for a price. The nobleman probably wanted to silence the information before it made it back the Putrid Grove.

After staying up late, Geralt and you finally had a plan. After running it past the King to get the right information about how to play it out, you found yourself shopping in Hierarch Square for a dress to wear to the wedding that night. The King had let you in on the recent whereabouts of the nobleman, and it turned out that night he would be attending the wedding of a Vegelbud, one of the prominent families in Novigrad. The wedding would be at their estate and would be attended by invite only. Luckily, the beggars had come through and had procured the invites for you and Geralt to get into the party.

You felt Geralt’s arm brushed yours as he appeared at your side while you perused the dress shop. Dress shopping was certainly not his thing, but still he had gone out to find clothes to wear to the wedding at your insistence. He couldn’t show up at the party dressed in his Witcher armour, or he would stick out like a sore thumb and blow your cover. Under his arm he had a package wrapped in brown paper, and your curiosity piqued. Your mind began to wander as you pictured him in formal attire.

“Which one are you going to get?” Geralt asked, drawing your attention back to the three dresses you had narrowed it down to. An elaborately embroidered red velvet dress with gold edges and a green and silver dress with bell sleeves were laid out in front of you on the table. Both were beautiful and within your price range. Beside them was a dress with a dark green skirt and white top with a lace up corset belt to go with it.

“That depends.” You sighed. You wished you could buy them all, but you definitely had no reason to own that many dresses. Geralt raised his eyebrows, silently encouraging you to continue. “The red one would fit more with the nobles, the green one would look amazing with my hair, but the white and green one would be more practical for a quick getaway.”

“Which do you want the most?” Geralt asked, leaning with his back to the table, his full attention on you. His golden eyes searched your face for any sign you liked one dress over the others as he crossed his arms.

You looked at him, also searching his face, trying to decide what to tell him. But instead you found yourself getting lost in those golden pools. You noticed his nostril flare and were glad to know that you affected him as much as he did you. Placing a hand on his chest, your fingertips grazing the patch of skin visible in the triangle his shirt created at his neck, you grounded yourself in him. It was the most contact you two had had in public since entering the city, and you were relishing it.

“The green and silver one.” Geralt said after clearing his throat. You blinked, as though waking from a dream, and turned to look at the dresses again. He handed you a small pouch of coin to pay for it. You started to protest, but he waved it away. “It’s Dandelion’s fault we have to go to this. The least I can do is pay for your dress.”

“He’s my friend too.” You frowned. You didn’t want Geralt thinking you couldn’t pay for your own things.

“Yes, but I am the one who always has to bail him out.” Geralt pointed to the green and silver dress when the shopkeeper came over. “The lady will be taking this one.”

“Excellent choice.” The shopkeeper smiled, taking the dress away to wrap it up. You rolled your eyes at the triumphant look on Geralt’s face.

“Fine. But I am getting the money for it from Dandelion to repay you.” You said, flicking your red hair over your shoulder, a note of finality in your voice.

“Even better.” Geralt laughed. He gave your arm a squeeze, his fingers trailing across your skin in a heated path, before leaving the store to go explore more of the outdoor market set up in the square.

You waited for the shopkeeper to come back to hand them their coin. With your package in hand, you left to go find Geralt. You scanned the market until you found him, though it wasn’t hard since he didn’t have his hood up. Hair as white as his was always easy to spot, especially when he stood taller than those around him. You took a moment to admire him from a distance before taking the steps down into the market.

When you reached him, he had a loaf of warm bread in his hand and a bag of apples. The apples were probably for the horses later. He grinned when he heard your stomach growl over the din of the market at the delicious smell of the freshly baked bread. He ripped off a chunk, passing it over to your eager hands.

“Thank you.” You said before taking a bite. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your throat at the taste of the buttery bread on your tongue. Your eyes slid close as you savoured the bread, the warmth it gave you spreading through your body.

When you opened your eyes again, you noticed Geralt watching your every move with darkened eyes. The molten gold orbs tracked your tongue as you licked the last of the crumbs from your lips. It dawned on you that the hungry look in his eyes was for you and not the food he held in his hands. Glancing around at the people crowding the market, a blush painted your cheeks. The look on his face promised pleasure beyond what your mind could comprehend, and had your body singing with need. You were frozen in his gaze, only wanting to move towards him. You foot slid forward, bringing you closer to the heat coming from the Witcher.

“Tonight.” That single word he uttered had you gasping for breath. The moment passed when he moved to leave the market. You stood, rooted in place, for a beat longer, trying to slow your heart down.

Looking over your shoulder, you wondered if you would survive travelling with him. Not because the monsters you would inevitably face, but because Geralt might cause your heart race itself to bursting.

By the time you had yourself under control, he was out of sight. Mentally kicking yourself, you rushed to catch up. You knew Novigrad like the back of your hand, but there were so many streets and alleyways he could have ducked down, that finding him would be difficult. Looking down a few streets, you sighed. You had lost him. Figuring he could find you using his Witcher senses, you headed back to the Chameleon to change.

By the time you were changed, Geralt still hadn’t shown up. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, double checking the dress, and making sure your hair was pinned properly in the braid crown you had painstakingly worked it into. Everything looked to be in order, and you decided to wait down in the tavern rather than up in the room alone. Maybe you could convince Zoltan to play a quick round of Gwent with you.

“Lass, you look perfectly stunning.” Zoltan’s praise met you before you had finished walking down the stairs. The Dwarf stood behind the bar as usual but was ignoring the patrons as he stared at you.

“Thank you, Zoltan.” You smiled brightly, happy to know that your efforts were not wasted. Glancing around the room, you noticed Geralt still wasn’t there. You were surprised to feel disappointment bubble up inside you. You smile must have faltered, because Zoltan abandoned his post to join you at the bottom of the stairs.

“I am sure Geralt will be here momentarily.” Zoltan said quietly, guessing at your thoughts. He gave your forearm a reassuring squeeze, gesturing for you to join him at the bar. “He probably just went to make sure everything was set.”

“And to get the horses.” Geralt’s voice sounded from behind you. Your heart leapt at the sound, flooding you with happiness and banishing the disappointment from before.

“Geralt! Late, but at least you are here.” Zoltan gave the Witcher a hard time, taking his spot behind the bar. He winked at you, and started filling orders once again for the disgruntled customers he had left a moment before.

“You look stunning.” Geralt ignored Zoltan, turning to you. His attention had you suddenly self-conscious, and you touched your hair to make sure it was still in place.

“You clean up nicely yourself.” You noticed he had changed into an embroidered black waist coat with a white linen shirt underneath. He still had on his travelling boots, but he had changed into a pair of black deerskin pants. You found yourself doing the domestic thing and straighten his collar.

“Shall we?” Geralt smirked down at you once you were done. He gestured toward the door and followed you as you left the Chameleon with a wave to Zoltan. Geralt stopped you before you could mount Marabelle, an arm around your stomach. His breath tickled the shell of your ear as he spoke. “That dress is perfect on you.”

“I’m glad you approve.” You whispered back to him, unable to say more as your mouth suddenly went dry. He growled in your ear, giving you a squeeze before regretfully letting you go.

“Tonight.” He whispered before stepping away to go mount Roach.

You were out of breath as you settled into the saddle, arranging your dress around you as you could ride. It wasn’t a far ride to the Vegelbud estate, but you would relish the cool breeze on your face. His promise had kept you on edge all day, and if he kept making it, you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the mission ahead. The fresh air and cool breeze would do you good.

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian s2 ep1 Reactions Post That’s right I’m BACK

and none of you not even god himself can stop me from rambling about space cowboy dad and tiny green baby stuff for much longer than any sane person should 

the TL;DR is that I still love this show SO MUCH, beware a bunch of spoilers under the cut!

- costume design wise I LOVE how badly the armour fits Cobb Vanth

 especially when you get shots with him and Din side by side for contrast:

It’s not just that it’s clearly not made for him (it seems he’s a lot lankier and more wiry than Boba is), he simply doesn’t know how to wear it, and he doesn’t know how to take care of it, because he doesn’t know what it means. Remember when Din’s breastplate got bent completely out of shape by the mudhorn and he had it repaired to the best of his ability long before they even finished with the ship? That’s why he looks so grounded and natural in it and Vanth has sort of a clumsy Spiderman-in-his-first-home-made-costume air about him. (also Boba’s helmet has a beautiful heft and solidity to it in this, they make all the beskar have a Feel and weight to it, makes it feel important)  

I like that Vanth is taller than Din; everything that drives home that Din’s strength doesn’t come from being naturally physically imposing or impressive is a joy to me 

- Boba’s armour seems to be confirmed to be real beskar, which gives me so much hope that they’re doing something actually nuanced and interesting with Boba and Jango’s cultural identities as Mandalorians (whether they do consider themselves that or not, for example), unlike George Lucas’ inexplicable yet unbending stance of ‘They aren’t and never were lol get fucked Fetts’  

the way the triumphant heroic part of the mando music sputtered and died when the man himself showed up tho... uh-oh this might be bad news 

man but that’s a stunning and surprising way to introduce a well-known character divorced from what makes them so iconic, though, just from that I’m going to trust they know what they’re doing (AND they got temuera morrison back I’m so EXCITED!!!). without the armor there’s the face of someone who shared that face with literal millions and at the same time must be looking older than his father ever got to at this point, and that’s super interesting as a starting point to me. (I... guess there’s still a chance it’s a fakeout and that it’s actually another clone, but that would be such a letdown when they’ve already given us this haha) 

- an excellent [mando sighs] moment

this opening scene did a great job of re-summarizing him for the audience -- establishing again that he gives you one chance at dealing with him fairly and if you insist on continuing to be an asshole about it, you’re toast, the fact that his fighting style is so much about being able to tank blows rather than not getting hit in the first place, the horror movie monster mando setup as he stalked the dude down and strung him up, the Poetic Justice predicated on some very careful word choices, and most importantly “where I go, he goes”... all wonderful, I’m sure I’ll watch this scene back for fine details and better looks at the background characters many many times 

(word seems to have spread about him and the baby for real now, which makes me VERY nervous btw)

- Pulserifle’s back! Jetpack’s back! Razor Crest’s back! Grappling line’s back! PELLI’S BACK!!!!!! Tattooine... is also back *Finn voice* Why does everyone want to go back to Tattooine????

I really enjoyed the way they fleshed out and (for lack of a better word) humanized the sand people, though, if you are going back to this desert hellplanet again that is a worthy reason to do it 

- Din swearing :O!! and one of the less egregious star wars swears too, I’m fine with this

- in campaign star wars news: I guess there was sort of both a binbon and a jubna in this ep! what a time to be alive

- as usual I love the jawa. a bright spot in any day, just a bunch of lil goblin-y friends hanging out having the best time loving sparkly crystals and rescuing silver foxes.  

get in loser we’re going shopping

-  

I uh. Do you think. Hm. Is there maybe a metaphor here somewhere. Is there perhaps a hidden, one may say double, meaning, at play, right here, in this image? Who can say, it’s just niggling at me (there’s a very similar set of shots with Toro in season 1, but seemingly the show went ‘I fear we might have gone too subtle with it, let’s amp it up this time’ over the season break loool)

honestly though this dynamic really highlighted everything I love about the ways Din performs masculinity. It’s so much softer and more community/collaboration focused and more comfortable to be around than Vanth’s version -- and Vanth isn’t a bad dude by any stretch of the imagination, it’s not hard to see why he’s like that considering where he’s from, he’s just such a... man. The lone person who can protect this village! The only man who’s got what it takes! It’s all on his shoulders and no one else’s, so do exactly as he says or he’ll put a hole in you! (I think it’s telling that one of his first comments to Din is ‘I’m sure you call the shots wherever you’re from, but ‘round here, I’m the person who tell folks what to do’, because as we as the audience knows, Din very much does not call the shots of where he’s from lol) I guess it says some nice things about the tribe of Mandos Din is from that this is how he approaches things, and it says some good things about Vanth how quickly he comes around to this smarter and less confrontational/domineering style of doing things once he’s been exposed to it and sees how it works. it’s just neat

(it’s smart of Favreau to set his ~*lone gunslinger*~ character up like this, too, it makes him so much more interesting and versatile)   

- With the way Din says ‘a Mandalorian Armorer sent me on my path’ it does seem confirmed that’s the equivalent of a priest role or a sort of shaman -- I wonder if he knows the name of ‘The’ Armorer or if they take on the role as a whole identity 

- the sheer contrast between the two people who wanted Din to take his helmet off for them in this ep tho... wants Mando’s armour off for horrible awful reasons and got exactly what he deserved:

wants Mando’s armour off for entirely sympathetic and understandable, just culturally uninformed, thirsty thirsty reasons & also having drinks together:

 (the sort of... little lick over his bottom lip he does there? keep it in your pants vanth my GODjflsadf he’s a good dude tho he understands and respects the ‘no armour removal before marriage’ thing and backs down gracefully)

- This is a nuanced thing: I don’t think I actually ship it (not in a requited way from Din’s side, anyway, Vanth I’m 100% sure about lol), but the incredible potential for out-of-context-taking of “Take it off, or I will”/”...we doin’ this in front of the kid?” is uh astounding  

(anyone got the vibe Vanth sort of had something with the bartender too? no just me? well well)

- I was never really scared Din was actually dead or hurt b/c baby wasn’t scared and I figure he’d know lol, a very useful fear barometer 

- “What’s the plan?” “Take care of the child” “What are you gonna do?” “I don’t know, but wish me luck *yeets his new bro out of harm’s way before diving in head first himself*” fksdjhfkjlashdfkjsldahfkasldjhfskldajhfsadkjfh WHAT a summation of Din’s entire approach to battle & life, dad please you carry a not insignificant part of my heart around with you be careful 

(Also with the heavy implication that Boba was watching the whole thing... can you imagine him just looking on as Din throws himself down that gullet like a madman. There must have been some ‘o_-7 *headscratch headscratch* ???’ going on for him there)

it’s kind of sweet that din trusts vanth will take care of the baby if something happens though, they really bonded quickly huh 

- the sand people who kept willingly going over to the krayt dragon’s cave are honestly braver and more admirable than anyone else has ever been, I kept just shouting in anguish as they were gobbled up, they deserved better 

- can we talk about how clear it still is that Din’s just... lonely. When he thinks he’s found another Mando and he sounds almost reverent with relief... and then it gets odder and odder (’uh... drinks? I guess... does he have drinking straws with him or -- HE’S TAKING THE HELMET OFF???’ oh buddy)

I wonder if they’re building towards something about him realizing it doesn’t have to be Mandos for him to trust and bond with people longer term? Basically all the characters he’s met and we’ve watched him form attachments to and get help from are non-Mandos -- Kuiil :’^(, Cara, Omera, Cobb Vanth, IG-11 :^’’(, Greef Karga to a degree. Establishing so firmly what he’s looking for this early would be good setup for a ‘what a character thinks they want vs. what they need’ thing later on just on a writing level, anyway, Boba Fett could bring in some interesting points of view about Mandalorianness too   

- baby’s happy gurgles when he sees pelli!!!!!! din speaking sand people language and petting alligator doggies!!!!!!

- pedro pascal’s voice work remains an utter joy to me. din’s measured, earnest, occasionally slightly stilted way of talking is still so good, and then he does things like inserting some more... idk life is the wrong word but that more charged and dynamic tone he took on when he said (”I thought you weren’t a gambler”) “I’m not”. *chef kiss*

- if the pulse rifle’s stun is able to do that to a fuckn krayt dragon... that’s some serious shit din is carrying around with him lol (interestingly the actual shooty pew-pew part of it didn’t seem to do much to it, but then I guess he was shocking it from the inside out and not through thick hide, so idk)

- my only real complaints about this ep: Vanth’s backstory ran a bit long, and not enough baby & dad interaction. the concept art’s got me tho: 

 (din often wears his original/old armour in concept art still, incidentally, don’t know what that’s about)

awwwwwww

+ omfg ;______;

- this sand people person conscientiously brushing a bantha’s teeth... blessed

- Customary flame thrower report: there was a rare useful deployment of the flamethrower. Good job Mando’s flame thrower for furthering the field of diplomacy

ETA: I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO MENTION THIS: DIN BEING COMFORTABLE(ISH) AROUND DROIDS NOW!!!! GROWTH????!?! IG-11 WE MISS YOU??????????

[sholiofic]

Maybe something post gotg1 in which Peter has to fake his death for a job, and isn't expecting much of a response from Yondu because he's already severed those bonds, but...?

Also posted on AO3: Plankton Thieves of Uzebi.

(I love this prompt, and I swear I meant to write something super angsty for this, but ... uh ... it wandered off in this direction instead.)

–

Good jobs were hard to come by these days – all the more, Yondu thought, when you were tryin’ to dig your way out of a four billion credit hole. Not to mention Stakar and his 99 cursed Ravager clans had been prosperous lately, which meant they’d squeezed Yondu’s boys out a lot of the more profitable sectors.

So the Eclector’s crew were scraping by, skimming cargos from merchant vessels and hunting bounties, for the most part. And yeah, Yondu knew there were murmurings among the crew, knew more than a few blades were being sharpened for his back. Wouldn’t be the first time, wouldn’t be the last. Staying alert for someone trying to shove a knife between your shoulders was everyday business when his business consisted of running a pirate gang composed of thieves, thugs, and mercenaries.

(And if he sometimes thought of the days when he’d had a better class of thugs to call his own, well, those days were gone. His crew still had a backbone of solid, loyal people, and the good days would come around again.)

In the meantime, he spent a lot of hours alone in his quarters, skimming through the galactic newsfeeds and finding jobs to send his boys out on. It was Quill’s name that caught his eye – not a surprise, wouldn’t be the first planet the kid was wanted on, and it was pure curiosity that made him start reading it (just keeping tabs on the little bastard, see what he was up to these days). It took him a couple of lines to realize he was reading an obituary.

Peter Quill, hero of the Battle of Xandar, was confirmed dead in a rare Krylorian sharknado, a local weather phenomenon in which severe localized winds sweep up oceanic predatory fish in a whirling spiral of death. Quill was attempting to rescue a boatload of orphans from a sudden storm when his body was obliterated beyond recognition –

Yondu’s first reaction was a feeling akin to being kicked very hard in the stomach. If he were willing to examine that feeling a little more closely, there might be a whole lot of feelings underneath there that he was refusing to give too much thought to.

His second reaction was a suspicious squint at the screen.

–

“Good plan, huh? Good plan!” Peter declared, poking at the screen while flashing a triumphant grin over his shoulder at his erstwhile crew.

“Excellent plan!” (Drax, followed immediately by, “What plan?”)

“Terrible plan.” (Gamora. She thought all his plans were terrible, so nothing unusual there.)

“I am Groot!” (Tiny, shrill, and cheerful.)

“Pass the biphasic decoupler, wouldja?” (Rocket. Not listening.)

“Guys! Come on! We can’t operate easily in Uzebi space because they’re one of the most bureaucratic planets in the entire Hoffed Confederacy, papers and retinal scans for everything, and I’m wanted there, but not if I’m …” He flicked his fingers lightly across the screen. “Daniel Hasselson, Terran purchaser of rare biological specimens. No relation at all to Peter Quill, who died a week ago on Kryloria in a freak accident. The important thing is, Uzebi doesn’t keep retinal scans or DNA on file for dead people. And we can waltz off with a shipload of Uzebi psychic plankton, which are dead cheap here because they’re a pest species, but are incredibly expensive –”

“And illegal,” Gamora added.

“… and frowned on by the morality police –”

“– also the actual police –”

“– in the Nova Empire, where they’re regarded as an illicit drug.”

“Due to being an illicit drug.”

“Gamora,” Peter said, “if you have a problem with the plan, just say so. I mean, the way I see it, we’re doing them a favor, taking a biological pest off the hands of the Uzebi, by purchasing it through totally legal channels –”

“And then becoming drug dealers in one of the few places in the galaxy that we are considered heroes rather than wanted criminals.”

“Only because that’s the only place it’s worth any money. And,” Peter added, grinning, “it is worth a lot of money.”

Rocket waved a paw in the air. “I’m in.”

“I thought you would be.”

“I am Groooot!”

“I … have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing it has nothing to do with the current topic.”

“He wants to be moved closer to the sunlamp.” Rocket straightened up, brushing grease off his palms, and rotated Groot’s pot. “There ya go, little buddy.”

“Anyway, see? Good plan? In, out, what could possibly go wrong –”

–

“This,” Gamora yelled at Peter, “was a terrible plan!”

“There’s no need to shout!” Peter covered his ears with his hands, as if it made the slightest difference. “I can hear you just fine if you don’t talk at all. I can also hear every single –” He scowled at Drax. “If you have to go so bad, just go!”

“I prefer not to defecate while departing a planet’s atmosphere. There are sudden pressure changes which can cause –”

“Aargh! Stop!”

Rocket had very discreetly skulked off to the farthest corner of the Milano, which made absolutely no difference whatsoever, since it was not a large ship and most parts of it were equally far from the cargo hold, currently full of barrels of psychic plankton.

“I am starting to see why these tiny beasts are considered a pest species,” Gamora groaned, pressing her fists to her temples. “Peter, what is that monstrous thing you are thinking of?”

“It’s an elephant,” Peter said between his teeth. “From Earth.”

“I assumed it was some manner of oddly deformed Earth animal, but what bearing does it have on the present situation?”

“None!” Peter said triumphantly. “None whatsoever! On Earth, it’s what we think of when we’re trying not to think about – oh, fuck – Gamora, I swear that wasn’t your, I mean, any part of you – ow, Gamora, that’s my ear, I need that –”

—

They ended up jettisoning the psychic plankton cargo just outside Uzebi orbit because there was no freaking way they were willing to go through a twenty-jump journey to Nova space like this.

As the plankton barrels tumbled gently above the planet’s seven small moons, freezing rapidly in the utter cold of space and extinguishing, one thread at a time, the psychic warp and weft that had been woven between the crew, Peter looked up. He thought he’d felt, for a moment, a quick flicker of profound relief and annoyance and possibly just a bit of pride.

He couldn’t imagine where it had come from; there was no close traffic. They were all alone out here, away from major Uzebi shipping lanes and headed as quickly as possible for the jump point.

Some of the sources he’d read while he was researching this job had suggested that the plankton, in sufficient concentrations, were capable of establishing psychic connections to loved ones anywhere in the galaxy, but that wasn’t possible in this case since everyone he (loved) cared about was here on this ship, and anyway –

Anyway, it was gone now.