Movies!
1) Star Trek totally kicked ASS! <3333
Dude!!!
Someone totally needs to write me some Spock/Uhara/Kirk threesome fics. And then, when they're done with that, I totally want Kirk/Sulu fics, cause seriously! Seriously! *cough* Maybe it's a side reaction from the way Sulu totally saved Kirk's ass on that platform and the way that Kirk returned the favor with the free fall hugging. :D
Then! Then! I would like me some Chekov/Bones slash. Cause...*_* Yeah, it just, yeah...I don't pretend to understand why and where my mind goes where it goes. It just does. I think it was the "I'm 17!" comment and Bones' facial reaction to that. ^_^ Chekov was like six thousand kinds of adorable. I wanted to pet his pretty curls and pinch his cheeks.
I know people had problems with Quinto playing Spock, but as I never watched more than season 1 of Heroes, I thought Quinto did a kick ass job as Spock. He managed to look very stoic and reserved, but still be able to convey how deeply he felt things.
Also! ALSO! Someone needs to write Kirk kid!fic. Along with Spock kid!fic.
Boy, I'm just a little demanding today, aren't I? XD
Still, that was a kickass movie and I loved it. ^_____^
2) Less than impressed with the GI Joe promo. The problem with remaking an 80s cartoon is that...it's an 80s cartoon. I'm not sitting through two hours of huge boring and almost visually painful explosions unless I get a couple of things.
a) I want humor. I want to see them poking some kind of fun at themselves or their scenario or just at life in general.
No one likes a macho asshole that takes himself too seriously. Action flicks without some level of humor are like this for me. If I'm going to sit through two hours of testosterone flinging, I need concessions dammit!
b) I want strong characters. I want to be able to see the rebel and the class clown and the geek turned soldier boy.
It can't just be all about the explosions or the Impending Doom. Because that's boring. Dreadfully so. In a general way, I care about the destruction of the country, but it would be nice to connect to and care about one of the central characters so that the Impending Doom feels, I dunno, Impending instead of me sitting there cheering on the bad guys to put an end to my movie watching misery.
The problem with the trailer is that I saw neither one of these things. I just saw huge explosions, shiny metal, and possibly the most ridiculous looking destruction of the Eiffel Tower. EVER. (Like J commented, what was it made of graham crackers? Seriously? It gets hit and pieces of metal just randomly fly off it?) Like, other than Denis Quaid's character, what other characters are in this flick? I mean, aside from the hundred extras? There were a couple of guys in fancy accelerator suits that I just remembered, but as I just remembered them, they're not that memorable. One crack about suits that accelerate (and look kind of stupid doing so), does not a funny make.
*cough* So yeah, barring seeing an entirely different trailer, I don't think I'll be seeing the GI Joe flick. And possibly, I'm being hard on it, but I was expecting, I dunno...something more inherently interesting than what they did end up showing.
I totally broke down and wrote Bones/Chekov. And I'm sorry, the longer I think about it, the hotter it is to me? ^_^;;
*****
The first time Bones catches himself looking, he's disgusted with himself. He has an ex-wife. He drinks more liquor than he knows is healthy for his liver and it's not exactly hard for those that know him to envision him kicking back with a cigar and a porno when he's off duty.
Fact of the matter is, he has no time or patience for things that are adorable, innocent and overly enthusiastic. Chekov, jailbiat puppy that he is, happens to be all three.
So, when Chekov looks at him with those big shiny hazel green eyes, Bones reminds himself that he has no time to house train a new lover. It's not like his track record is that great anyway.
When he catches himself looking again a week later, it comes as a shock to discover that Chekov is looking back. There's not a single ounce of subtlety in the kid's attention. Not in the way he's all but vibrating in his chair, nor in the way his smile lights up his whole face.
Bones is half tempted to bark out an ill tempered, 'Sit!' just to see if the kid is as enthusiastic at following his commands as he is everyone else's.
"Is everyone healthy and accounted for, Doctor?" The pup faces him full on, silly grin on his lips.
Bones reminds himself, repeatedly, that the kid's accent is not adorable, cute, or anything within the realm of anything other than annoying. The way he mangles all his v's and w's does not make Bones's cock jump in anticipation because that would be stupid. And more than a little Pavlovian. And hell, he'll even quote Spock, illogical.
He doesn't want to think about how that accent might sound with Chekov beneath him, panting and begging for more, and he certainly doesn't want to think about how it might sound as the kid's coming on nothing but his hands and his cock and his authority.
"Yeah, why wouldn't they be?" He sneers at the kid, grumbles and stomps off in one of his 'bipolar huffs' according to Kirk. Dammit, he feels like a pedophile.
The next time he looks at Chekov, he can't be discreet about it. They're the only ones on the bridge and Chekov is sitting at his station, a lonely little cupcake perched on the console.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He snaps and growls and prowls a little, and Chekov only watches him wide eyed with a puppy-ish smile plastered on his too perfect lips.
"I am celebrating," the kid announces as he sits up straight and throws his shoulders back, and hell no, Bones is not watching to see the way that the uniform conforms to the kid's wiry chest or the way it accentuates the curve of his back, although, in not looking, it's also not hard to see the absolutely delicious ass the kid's been hiding from the world sitting in that stupid chair.
He wonders idly if he can convince Kirk that everyone's job would be more efficiently done standing, but then remembers that Kirk is absolutely obsessed with the Captain's chair, so obviously Spock is the one to consult on such matters.
"What the hell could you possibly be celebrating by yourself in the middle of the night?" He arches an eyebrow as Chekov all but wiggles in his chair in enthusiasm. Bones does not want to imagine what it might be like to have Chekov wiggling like that on top of him or his lap, but the kid is a walking wet dream that somehow came without a surgeon general's warning label.
"It is my birthday today," he announces in his odd accented cadence. "I am turning eighteen today."
"Of course you are," Bones murmurs, moving closer to...inspect the cupcake, which actually does have one small pathetic candle sticking in the middle of it. "You couldn't find any one of the crew to help you celebrate your eighteenth birthday?" He puts all his derision into his tone, and yet the kid does not once shrink back. Bones has all but implied that the pup has no friends and yet Chekov is all but bouncing in his seat in apparent happiness.
"But you are here, sir." Chekov leans in closer and despite himself, Bones bends a little at the waist, just to bring their heads to the same level so he can have decent eye contact, he tells himself. "I am celebrating my birthday with you."
It's the mangled w that does it. Something about the sound makes his cock twitch extra hard, and without stopping to think about it or contemplate it or rationalize it, he just reaches out roughly and grabs the back of Chekov's head, pulling it closer.
His fingers tighten around the kid's soft curls, tunneling until he can grasp at the curves of the kid's skull and yank him closer so that he can plunder that too perfect mouth and taste the pup's unbelievable sweetness that should be offputting for a guy like him instead of an instant turn on.
Scrambling, Chekov's hands reach up to grasp at his and his mouth works against Bones's, obviously innocent and untried, but eager in a way that is hotter than any professional kisser could ever manage to be.
Chekov is not only offering, he's demanding, so Bones throws caution to the wilds of space and takes.
It's not until much later when his breathing is rough and ragged, his cock harder than the thickest diamond, that he breaks away. Chekov's puppy-ish pants make him want to turn the kid over the nearest console and fuck the life out of him, but he manages to restrain himself. Barely.
"Dammit, kid, I’m not made of rock. I'm only human," he growls, hands roughly grabbing at Chekov's slim hips.
"Thank god," Chekov smiles cheekily. "I was beginning to wonder."
Dude!!!
Someone totally needs to write me some Spock/Uhara/Kirk threesome fics. And then, when they're done with that, I totally want Kirk/Sulu fics, cause seriously! Seriously! *cough* Maybe it's a side reaction from the way Sulu totally saved Kirk's ass on that platform and the way that Kirk returned the favor with the free fall hugging. :D
Then! Then! I would like me some Chekov/Bones slash. Cause...*_* Yeah, it just, yeah...I don't pretend to understand why and where my mind goes where it goes. It just does. I think it was the "I'm 17!" comment and Bones' facial reaction to that. ^_^ Chekov was like six thousand kinds of adorable. I wanted to pet his pretty curls and pinch his cheeks.
I know people had problems with Quinto playing Spock, but as I never watched more than season 1 of Heroes, I thought Quinto did a kick ass job as Spock. He managed to look very stoic and reserved, but still be able to convey how deeply he felt things.
Also! ALSO! Someone needs to write Kirk kid!fic. Along with Spock kid!fic.
Boy, I'm just a little demanding today, aren't I? XD
Still, that was a kickass movie and I loved it. ^_____^
2) Less than impressed with the GI Joe promo. The problem with remaking an 80s cartoon is that...it's an 80s cartoon. I'm not sitting through two hours of huge boring and almost visually painful explosions unless I get a couple of things.
a) I want humor. I want to see them poking some kind of fun at themselves or their scenario or just at life in general.
No one likes a macho asshole that takes himself too seriously. Action flicks without some level of humor are like this for me. If I'm going to sit through two hours of testosterone flinging, I need concessions dammit!
b) I want strong characters. I want to be able to see the rebel and the class clown and the geek turned soldier boy.
It can't just be all about the explosions or the Impending Doom. Because that's boring. Dreadfully so. In a general way, I care about the destruction of the country, but it would be nice to connect to and care about one of the central characters so that the Impending Doom feels, I dunno, Impending instead of me sitting there cheering on the bad guys to put an end to my movie watching misery.
The problem with the trailer is that I saw neither one of these things. I just saw huge explosions, shiny metal, and possibly the most ridiculous looking destruction of the Eiffel Tower. EVER. (Like J commented, what was it made of graham crackers? Seriously? It gets hit and pieces of metal just randomly fly off it?) Like, other than Denis Quaid's character, what other characters are in this flick? I mean, aside from the hundred extras? There were a couple of guys in fancy accelerator suits that I just remembered, but as I just remembered them, they're not that memorable. One crack about suits that accelerate (and look kind of stupid doing so), does not a funny make.
*cough* So yeah, barring seeing an entirely different trailer, I don't think I'll be seeing the GI Joe flick. And possibly, I'm being hard on it, but I was expecting, I dunno...something more inherently interesting than what they did end up showing.
I totally broke down and wrote Bones/Chekov. And I'm sorry, the longer I think about it, the hotter it is to me? ^_^;;
*****
The first time Bones catches himself looking, he's disgusted with himself. He has an ex-wife. He drinks more liquor than he knows is healthy for his liver and it's not exactly hard for those that know him to envision him kicking back with a cigar and a porno when he's off duty.
Fact of the matter is, he has no time or patience for things that are adorable, innocent and overly enthusiastic. Chekov, jailbiat puppy that he is, happens to be all three.
So, when Chekov looks at him with those big shiny hazel green eyes, Bones reminds himself that he has no time to house train a new lover. It's not like his track record is that great anyway.
When he catches himself looking again a week later, it comes as a shock to discover that Chekov is looking back. There's not a single ounce of subtlety in the kid's attention. Not in the way he's all but vibrating in his chair, nor in the way his smile lights up his whole face.
Bones is half tempted to bark out an ill tempered, 'Sit!' just to see if the kid is as enthusiastic at following his commands as he is everyone else's.
"Is everyone healthy and accounted for, Doctor?" The pup faces him full on, silly grin on his lips.
Bones reminds himself, repeatedly, that the kid's accent is not adorable, cute, or anything within the realm of anything other than annoying. The way he mangles all his v's and w's does not make Bones's cock jump in anticipation because that would be stupid. And more than a little Pavlovian. And hell, he'll even quote Spock, illogical.
He doesn't want to think about how that accent might sound with Chekov beneath him, panting and begging for more, and he certainly doesn't want to think about how it might sound as the kid's coming on nothing but his hands and his cock and his authority.
"Yeah, why wouldn't they be?" He sneers at the kid, grumbles and stomps off in one of his 'bipolar huffs' according to Kirk. Dammit, he feels like a pedophile.
The next time he looks at Chekov, he can't be discreet about it. They're the only ones on the bridge and Chekov is sitting at his station, a lonely little cupcake perched on the console.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He snaps and growls and prowls a little, and Chekov only watches him wide eyed with a puppy-ish smile plastered on his too perfect lips.
"I am celebrating," the kid announces as he sits up straight and throws his shoulders back, and hell no, Bones is not watching to see the way that the uniform conforms to the kid's wiry chest or the way it accentuates the curve of his back, although, in not looking, it's also not hard to see the absolutely delicious ass the kid's been hiding from the world sitting in that stupid chair.
He wonders idly if he can convince Kirk that everyone's job would be more efficiently done standing, but then remembers that Kirk is absolutely obsessed with the Captain's chair, so obviously Spock is the one to consult on such matters.
"What the hell could you possibly be celebrating by yourself in the middle of the night?" He arches an eyebrow as Chekov all but wiggles in his chair in enthusiasm. Bones does not want to imagine what it might be like to have Chekov wiggling like that on top of him or his lap, but the kid is a walking wet dream that somehow came without a surgeon general's warning label.
"It is my birthday today," he announces in his odd accented cadence. "I am turning eighteen today."
"Of course you are," Bones murmurs, moving closer to...inspect the cupcake, which actually does have one small pathetic candle sticking in the middle of it. "You couldn't find any one of the crew to help you celebrate your eighteenth birthday?" He puts all his derision into his tone, and yet the kid does not once shrink back. Bones has all but implied that the pup has no friends and yet Chekov is all but bouncing in his seat in apparent happiness.
"But you are here, sir." Chekov leans in closer and despite himself, Bones bends a little at the waist, just to bring their heads to the same level so he can have decent eye contact, he tells himself. "I am celebrating my birthday with you."
It's the mangled w that does it. Something about the sound makes his cock twitch extra hard, and without stopping to think about it or contemplate it or rationalize it, he just reaches out roughly and grabs the back of Chekov's head, pulling it closer.
His fingers tighten around the kid's soft curls, tunneling until he can grasp at the curves of the kid's skull and yank him closer so that he can plunder that too perfect mouth and taste the pup's unbelievable sweetness that should be offputting for a guy like him instead of an instant turn on.
Scrambling, Chekov's hands reach up to grasp at his and his mouth works against Bones's, obviously innocent and untried, but eager in a way that is hotter than any professional kisser could ever manage to be.
Chekov is not only offering, he's demanding, so Bones throws caution to the wilds of space and takes.
It's not until much later when his breathing is rough and ragged, his cock harder than the thickest diamond, that he breaks away. Chekov's puppy-ish pants make him want to turn the kid over the nearest console and fuck the life out of him, but he manages to restrain himself. Barely.
"Dammit, kid, I’m not made of rock. I'm only human," he growls, hands roughly grabbing at Chekov's slim hips.
"Thank god," Chekov smiles cheekily. "I was beginning to wonder."