#but it doesn’t haaave…? to be read that way??

[tiptapricot]

Scene req from @guss-other-fin for a trans!MK system scenario in which Marc prefers to be clean shaven because he hates the feeling of facial hair, so Steven doesn’t realize he can grow it until after they’re on more even terms with each other. Marc then teaches Steven how to shave, and it’s just an overall sweet bonding moment with lots of banter, and Steven nicking himself because he couldn’t stop smiling. Also now on ao3!

———

Steven stares at himself in the mirror, brows furrowed intensely, as his fingers poke and prod at his chin and cheeks. The skin is darker than usual and it’s… rough…

A tickle of amusement brushes against his consciousness.

“Marc?” he asks tentatively at the new presence, turning his head to get a better look at the sides of his jaw.

‘What’s up bud?’ Marc’s voice light, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“What’s…” Steven’s mouth twists, his hand moving to gesture oddly at their reflection. “What’s all this here?”

Marc huffs, and Steven swears he can almost feel the puff of air against his ear. ‘That’s facial hair Steven, I forgot to shave.’

Steven’s brows shoot up. “Really?” His fingers once again run over the light stubble dusting his chin, the texture making his skin tingle. But it could almost be a nice feeling now that he thinks about it. Facial hair! “I didn’t think we could grow this stuff,” he says, a bit in awe, “like there was some freak backwards effect of hormones that gave us like… male patterned baldness on our face or something.”

Marc laughs, loud, and Steven glares at his reflection in annoyance. Marc isn’t exactly there, but he knows he’ll see it anyway.

“Well what was I supposed to think when even my bloody peach fuzz disappeared?” he asks incredulously.

Marc’s laughter peters out at that, and Steven feels him twist and shrink a bit, and—oh. He’s embarrassed. He’s bloody embarrassed.

‘I don’t… I don’t like the feel of it,’ he admits. ‘When it started growin’ in I tried to have something with it cause y’know… it was nice to see, kinda, but it just…’ Steven gets a flash of sensation—scratchy hair running over their wrists and poking at their lips—and shivers. ‘Yeah I just… it wasn’t my thing. I usually just stay clean shaven when I can.’

Steven makes a noncommittal hum in response, taking one more second to poke at his stubble, before pushing back from the mirror to look matter of factly at their sink. When he sees nothing but their toothbrush, he crouches down to check one of the little storage cabinets.

‘What are you lookin’ for now Steven?’ Marc asks, his voice light and fond, giving the impression that he’s leaning back with his arms crossed to watch.

“Well I do assume you have a razor,” Steven says, rifling through the mess that’s accumulated, “unless Khonshu was such a stuck up twit that you had to use that little moon staff of his instead or something. That thing did look quite sharp didn’t it?” He pulls out a small box of ibuprofen well past its expiration date and grimaces at it, making a mental note to sort through his storage at some point.

Marc laughs again, the twinge of awkwardness from before gone, and Steven feels a force twitch his hand down to the bottom shelf. ‘Yeah, yeah, I have a razor.’

Taking the hint, Steven pushes aside a few stray items before pulling out a simple, black hand razor from the back. It’s small. Utilitarian. Definitely Marc’s.

‘There should be gel and aftershave in there too.’

Steven hums again, grabbing the bottles he assumes Marc means before straightening up.

“Ok,” he says, staring at the mirror with determination, “how’s this whole thing work then?”

He gets the impression of Marc smiling, before he starts walking him through it, not even questioning Steven’s desire to do it himself.

His directions are easy, and Steven does just as he says, washing their face, before lathering up with the gel and enjoying the smooth feel of it under his fingers. When he’s done, he lets it sit as he washes off his hands, making sure to run the razor under the water as well after a very… noncommittal answer from Marc about its cleaning history.

‘Now, go slow, and don’t push too hard. You go in the direction of the hair, and don’t reverse or anything, just glide it over.’

Steven makes a little noise of acknowledgment in his throat but stays completely still otherwise, barely twitching the razor over his cheek.

‘Here, like this.’ He feels Marc take control of his hand, moving it at an easy pace over the skin. The sudden visual image of him guiding Steven to shave like he’d guide someone to tie a tie nearly makes him burst out laughing, but he catches himself.

‘There, keep going like that,’ Marc says, returning control to Steven.

It’s easier after that, and Steven makes it most of the way down one side of his face before Marc says something else.

‘Ah yeah, and around your mouth and stuff you can puff out your cheeks for an easier shave.’

It makes sense, it really does, but when Steven does it in the mirror he suddenly imagines Marc making the same face, and it’s just too bloody much.

He does laugh this time, lips sputtering and twitching into a smile, and their hand flinches away from their face.

‘Woah woah hey there, that’s how you hurt yourself.’

Steven rolls his eyes and goes back in to keep shaving, jerking control of the hand back from Marc. “I’m not the one who has to think about you doing this all the time you know,” he says very carefully. “Do you know how bonkers we look when we do that?”

‘You look fine Steven. You’re doing great.’ And Marc’s voice is just… fond when he says it. Deeply fond, and it makes Steven’s chest do something all fluttery.

He can’t help but think about Marc learning this himself, then, or maybe having someone he trusted teach him like he’s doing for Steven now. It’s so familiar to him but so alien to Steven, and yet they still get to share this.

This. This body.

It’s a real bang up thing overall. He knows they have a lot of scars, some recent, some older, and he knows a lot are from Marc, from things less than wonderful and less than kind, but he also knows they share the joy here too. The joy in the two scars on their chest, in the deep tambre of their voice, in… shaving. In having to shave because they have facial hair. Gods he still can’t wholly believe that. And it’s not all been aces, yeah, but they have this, and he has this with Marc, and so maybe it really isn’t all bad after all.

Now Steven does smile at that, absentmindedly, just a bit too wide and a bit too weighty, and the blade nicks his skin. He hisses, cringing, and pulls the razor back to clutch at the little welt just below his nose.

“Ah, bollocks.”

‘Told you to be careful.’

“Oh shut up you,” Steven says breathlessly, grabbing a wad of tissue to blot at it for a moment. “I was thinking mushy thoughts, you can’t blame me.”

‘Oh yeah? What about?’ Marc asks, and the affection is still there, a comfortable weight in Steven’s chest.

“Oh you know,” he says, returning to the space around his mouth just a touch more carefully, “just about us, the body, all this.” He leans back to look at his work so far, before starting on the other cheek. “I still can’t believe you hid this from me.”

Marc chuckles. ‘Well clearly you wouldn’t have done it right if I had.’

“Oh shut up.” Steven flicks a little water at the mirror but there’s no venom in it, and Marc laughs louder this time. It’s a warm, easy sound that he rarely makes, and it catches Steven so off guard he has to pause for a moment to reign in his own wild grin, bracing against the sink and smiling at the floor like an idiot.

It’s nearly an hour before they even touch the aftershave, but Steven doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.

[every-marveler-ever]

Sticky Marshmallow

Prompt: Marshmallow for @marvelpetbingo (🐾)

Creator(s): every-marveler-ever, Square/Activity filled: Marshmallow, Rating: General, Warnings: just some irondad and spiderson fluff, Main Character(s): Tony Stark, Happy Hogan and Peter Parker

Summary: Tony Stark does not like pets, but Peter knows that at one stage Tony didn’t like him and so what’s the harm in a small pet?

A/N: I was really excited for this bingo and while this isn't isn't my best work I really enjoyed writing it!

Also on Ao3

“What is that doing here!”

To say Tony Stark doesn’t like pets to some would be an understatement. Newspapers have written articles about him kicking puppies (they never went to air and they’re not true but they were still written, (read: Pepper is just a brilliant CEO). Happy knows this and why he is sitting on the couch with a white feline in his hand has stumped Tony.

“The kid brought him in,” Happy says in his way that it just sounds professional even though he was stroking the kitten with adoration in his eyes.

That Tony could believe.

The fact that his kid had brought a snow-white dirty street cat into his million-dollar penthouse is something that made sense. Why Happy was just sitting there with it was what didn’t. “So why are you just sitting there with it! Get it out!” Happy couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the way that Tony found the need to step away from the white couch that Happy and his feline friend resided on. “I’m not so sure, I kind of like him,” he stands up, bringing the kitten closer to Tony “look how cute he is!” The smile on Happy’s face scared Tony more than the kitten that was being carried right in front of his face.

The kitten made no move to strike at Tony or start yelling into his face, instead happily curling into the muscular arms of their head of security. Happy was glad to have him there.

Frowning at the cat Tony again moves away leading them all into the kitchen “why can’t he stay at May’s then?” Happy had sighed more in this conversation today than he did at his head of security meeting. “May’s apartment doesn’t allow pets, that’s why Peter thought he could stay here.”

It’s not the first time FRIDAY has interrupted at just the right time, and for Happy’s sake he hopes it’s not the last, “Boss you have a facetime call from ‘Intern Oh Mine.” Tony shook his head and took the call “pull him up on a screen.” In no less than a second Peter Parker is on the flat screen of the lounge's tv.

“Hi, Mr Stark! Did you meet Marshmellow? Did you like him?? Isn’t he so cuteeee! Even Happy called him cute so you haaave to think he’s cute.”

“He’s not staying kid,” the stern look on Tony Stark’s face at that moment is not a face to fight with, nor test.

Peter doesn’t seem to recognise this.

“We can discuss it there when I get there,”

“Please don’t tell me you’re swinging here, right now?!”

At least Peter, in true Stark fashion, understands the importance of hanging up at just the right time of the other person’s fury. Tony Stark is furious.

-

Peter is not shocked to see that by the time he gets to the tower Marshmallow is happily curled into Tony Stark's chest. He takes out his phone and takes the photo, documenting the moment.

He heads down to the lab with a smile on his face, knowing Marshmallow will have a good home here.

Masterlist / Marvel Pet Bingo Masterlist

(Bingo card under the cut)

[cullxtheherd]

Dirty headcannon game: J, A, C, O, B for Jacob

thank u for this ask anon - it gets a little rambly but in my defense i haven’t had coffee or sleep so ksjndksf we maaake doooo with what we haaave hebjhdfrdesfkjn

Dirty A-Z headcanon game!

J - Jelly (what kind of lube are they using? is it flavored? have they tasted it? do they prefer to use something other than real lube during sex?)

anon i think, personally, that if Jacob Seed has access to any kind of personal lubricant it’ll come in a sour flavor- green/apple, lemon, etc. i just don’t see him as a sweets type of person? maybe you feel differently idk. but to be honest with you i doubt lube is in massive stock or quantity at saint francis. and without being... Too Dark™: i’m pretty sure if Jacob Seed is making use of any form of lubricant (even spit) he likely has some type of feeling for his partner- other than convenience, that is.

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

hoo babey i think Jake is definitely a guy that masturbates, but i think he is the type of guy that has that?? ingrained Religious Guilt™ about it. which lanskjndjkfns it’s funny to me because he has zero to little guilt at all about anything else he does i just think that?? based on my own interpretation of his childhood: he likely spent whatever years that weren’t clouded by abuse and addiction on his parents part, under the thumb of the Bible. i have theorized in his timeline [x] that the Seeds were likely Baptists due to the majority Religion in Rome, Georgia at the time of Jacob’s birth. i personally headcanon that his father was likely a Preacher before being overcome with alcoholism and after i believe he was likely a bible salesman who dragged his eldest son along. i believe that being ruled by a heavily religious iron fist, especially with strict doctrines about repentance and sinning??? y e a h. i think if he is rubbing one out it’s probably a quick, base needs experience: no toys, etc and probably followed by feeling Super Wrong About It Because God (even though he doubts the fuckers existence at all®). anyone who is catholic can confirm ksjndkjnfdjdnf

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

oof that is a grim thought to be honest and?? i doubt Jacob Seed cries during or has in the past cried during sex. now i’m not sure on the turn on/turn off situation because honestly i think it depends on the circumstances. i could certainly see during an unhinged and violent episode it being a turn on (in the sense that it is something incensing to an attacker, generally), but!! i just don’t write him as meanly in the bedroom as most people do, so: in a sane mind state no i really do not think it is a turn on for him. i think although he was raised roughly and rudely that ultimately he was/is a Southern Boy; as in: he loves his Mama despite her massive faults, he holds doors open for women (these days mostly in the PEG unless out of town), he is sweet on his sweetheart, he knows the lyrics to every Elvis song and Southern Nights by Glenn Campbell, he eats peaches (no not Staci, yes sExUaLlY), he likes his grits tacky not RUNNY, he haS A STNRNFSDJ SOUTHERN ACCENT???!?!?!?! UBISOFT HELLOOO??

you know what im done with this question my friend :)

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

yes very much yes. i think any sex that jacob seed is having these days is likely a spur of the moment act of convenience and is probably subject to back alley bangin’ more than he would ever admit. the game and the devs have told us a lot that the boys don’t really follow their own core doctrines and since Jake tells us plainly that he’s not so sure about God?? i’m certain he abuses his power as Herald to bend the rules for himself and often. but same applies here i think he likely suffers a big heap of Religious Guilt afterwards, even despite his doubt in religion and faith.

B - Bondage (do they like it? do they not? do they prefer to be the one being tied or the one doing the tying?)

ebhjgdfdfjdgk okay so if you go to the several places (grandview, surrounding cabins, etc) where Jacob “trains” people you will find that most, if not all, of the beds/couches/etc have leg and/or ankle cuffs affixed to them and some even have a chain and leash bolted into the floor. i think Jake is big time into control in all aspects of his life, especially the bedroom. i do think that the confinements in the training rooms are more used as a system of degradation, though and not solely nsfw purposes. i have said in the past that in my interpretation this man absolutely hates being nude in any form in front of others due to his extensive scarring/rashes and i just don’t think his object is to absolutely rail the shit out of the poor souls coming through his doors- although, don’t get me wrong i’m sure on occasion it happens, but also skjkdfj let’s not forget that when Jake has left his men/soldiers to do things in the past (THE COOK IM LOOKING AT YOU) they often go? over the edge and get way out of control  aND honestly if you haven’t read the notes where the cook is: they say jake needs more bodies/soldiers but that the cook decides to burn these sinners anyways; it’s a direct avoidance of orders- this likely happens all over the whitetails and it is likely something Jacob doesn’t take kindly to. why? well when you’ve trained your flock on a cocktail of abuse and torture you don’t exactly instill absolute trust in your soldiers- some will, eventually, disobey and i’m sure with a bunch of half crazed, militarized guards around....sexual assault is going to happen, unfortunately. i do think that if there is some kind of? consensual/sexual relationship going on that restraints can and likely will be a part of the bedroom - maybe not always because Jacob strikes me as the kind of guy that prefers to? work with his hands. annnddd now for the part we aren’t ready for: i think if Jake really trusts his partner that he will allow himself to be bound in certain ways (he’s going to need a quick way out of any PTSD inducing scenes for everyone’s safety). just imagine this man has his partner in the cowgirl position and he says:

“𝑷𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒌 .”

bye im leaving 

[ineffablecolors]

THE WIFE [8/?]

The Wife || Ch 8 ~ 4.7 k || Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 || FF.NET&AO3 Summary: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are? A/N: People in this chapter are going at it. Our guys... are becoming pros at hand-holding. :D Also haaave you seen these beauties X and X by @marcella2727 and X by @spartanguard ❤ 

“She doesn’t paint like anyone I’ve seen.”

Killian snorts – a mix of pride and fond exasperation as clear in the sound as the sky above them.

“Alice doesn’t do anything like anyone else.”

Granny told them it will be the last truly sunny day of the year. Alice promptly carried her easel and half the blankets in the house on the green grass outside. Emma is supposedly working on the garden, Killian is supposedly going over the accounts from a ship that made port a couple of days ago. In truth, they are lying in the shade, a respectable amount of space between them that Emma has been slowly – and, hopefully, covertly – eradicating as the minutes tick by.

“She has never been one for realistic detail either.”

Emma’s eyes slant to the side and find Killian looking for something among the branches above them. He has one leg bent at the knee and the other stretched out before him, his prosthetic hand cautioning his head from the bark of the tree he is leaning against, while his right one twirls a fallen leaf round and round. His white shirt and windswept hair give him an additionally carefree and dreamlike quality.

It is quite possibly the most relaxed she has ever seen her husband. She likes it.

“It looks like it’s just…,” she inclines her head to the side and looks more carefully at the artwork in the making – Alice seemingly completely oblivious to Emma’s attempts to put her strong and fluid strokes into words. “Made of light.”

She smiles a little and nods to herself. There is hardly a recognizable shape on the canvas but the clusters of light seem to almost shimmer in the autumn sun.

“Hmmm.”

Killian is watching her with a temptingly unreadable expression on his face. There is something lively and almost gratified in his gaze but his features are much too soft for her to call it mischief. And Emma has always been curious to a fault but she has found herself growing even more so in the company of her husband.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just that… Nothing is only light or only shadow – each needs the other to exist. So it’s just the person looking at it that decides what to perceive, I suppose.”

She looks back at the picture. Of course, now she can hardly believe she didn’t see it. For the clusters of light to come to life there is a shadowy background to it all. But, long as she stares at it, it doesn’t come to the forefront and Emma exhales with a little of both relief and pleased surprise.

“Maybe it’s all about the day you look at it.”

“The day?”

She feels the blush in the roots of her hair. Emma has never been one for philosophical discussions and ideas – she doesn’t have the background and education for it, nor has she ever received invitation or encouragement to participate in such conversations – but the warm light and the scent of Killian’s coat rolled up under her head and the way he is quietly, curiously, waiting for her to elaborate her point seem to loosen her tongue.

However, none of that makes it much easier for her to put her thoughts into words right away.

“It’s just that… yes, here I am seeing light but… I’m sure, on another day, I should’ve seen little but the darkness trying to consume it.”

Killian nods along as if her words make perfect sense and wastes no time in turning them into a proper argument.

“So you don’t think the interpretation has so much to do with the character of the observer but rather with their state of mind.”

It takes her a beat or two but his questioning look doesn’t grow impatient. She nods and, when Killian seems to lose himself in his thoughts, she doesn’t know if she feels bad for appearing to disagree and argue with him or rather proud that the statement he proposed does sound sensible and as good an argument as his own.

“I suppose there is a fair bit of truth to that. And it certainly makes it all look much more hopeful,” he concludes, his gaze now as intently focused on Alice’s work as Emma’s is on him.

She decides she doesn’t half mind attempting to put her notions into words in front of him.

“Oh, would you stop it? How is a woman to let her brush flow with so much pointed attention weighing it down.”

Always willing to gratify his daughter’s wishes, Killian just chuckles and languidly rises to his feet. Emma is still debating who she should keep company – and mostly where it will be more appreciated – when his palm appears in her line of sight, palm up.

“How do you feel about giving Buttercup a little exercise, love?”

*****

“Everyone is positively buzzing with anticipation.”

Admiral Liam Jones looks up from the letter he is composing to admire the satisfaction that sits perfectly on his wife’s exquisite features. Anyone who doesn’t know Mrs Liam Jones well enough would think her barely interested in the particulars of her own ball but to Admiral Jones her simmering excitement has been clear for days now.

“Your new sister-in-law is quite the ambiguous figure. And thus, a source of great attraction.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

In all honesty, Liam Jones is still rather perplexed and not entirely convinced of the wisdom of his bother’s choice of wife. Then again, it might be the burden of responsibility that makes him weigh every impression and bit of information so carefully, seeing as he was the man who brought the story of Miss Emma to Killian’s ears.

Of course, when he did so, his intension was nothing more than to share his confusion and general frustration with the way families go about marrying off their female members these days. He certainly didn’t mean to arouse Killian’s sympathy for the girl, let alone his affection. And now he still doesn’t know how much of that – if any �� his brother holds for his new wife and, it just might be, that Admiral Jones is as eager to see Mrs Killian Jones at the ball as any other guest.

But he is, of course, much better at concealing such infantile curiosity.

“And what does our captain have to say about her?”

“Killian and I write about matters of business and leave matters of the heart for the rare evening of rum and cigars.”

“Then you believe his marriage to be of the latter’s persuasion now? Because I could have sworn it started out as the former.”

“And I could have sworn my wife was above common gossip.”

“It is hardly gossip when I’m asking my husband about his dear brother. And it is hardly common when said brother has abstained from any engagements of the heart for so long.”

“But you know perfectly well how obtuse we gentlemen are on those topics. I should be completely helpless and wait for you to have an interview with the new Mrs Jones and bring me some insight into my brother’s household. Seeing as you have forbidden me to pay him a visit.”

“Oh, try not to be so melodramatic, Liam. I’ve forbidden nothing, I merely suggested that we should allow them that period of time that most couple reserve for courtship before the actual nuptials.”

“And, as always, I deferred to your wisdom. But I am glad I will get to see some more of my niece. Perhaps you can write to Alice and ask her to stay for a day or two after the dance. It should further promote your scheme of courtship for married ladies and gentlemen.”

Elsa’s eyeroll makes him smile and reach for her hand, pulling her closer so he can slip his arm around her waist.

“You mustn’t expect too much from Killian, my dear. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out that he has spoken to her half a dozen times in the last month.”

“Oh, I have no expectations of your brother. Just the hope that the timidity of that wife of him might have started to wear off by now.”

Liam shakes his head and lets his eyes run over the words he wrote one more time even as his hand slips lower to caress his wife’s thigh. He marvels at her ability to see into people’s souls without exposing any of her own. He himself rarely reveals much but, in consequence, rarely finds much out as well.

But, as is his habit, it is his brother he worries about. For Killian has always been good at reading people but always at the cost of leaving himself open to be read and cheated in turn.

*****

“I see you have broken the sole rule my daughter imposed on you.”

Emma comes to a stop two steps above him. The curls on either side of her face slowly settle and stop their swaying motion as well. He steels himself and doesn’t allow his gaze to slip lower and ascertain whether her breasts – both confined and accentuated by her corset – have seized their own bouncing movements.

Until this moment Killian hadn’t seen his wife in a gown quite like this one. It is certainly more fashionable and well-fitted than the one Alice picked for their wedding and much more adorned and flattering than anything she wears during the day, whether she goes into town or sits curled up in a chair in the library all day.

He likes the deep green colour, the way it makes her eyes impossibly brighter and lets her painted lips stand out even more, but frankly, he finds the tightness around her already slim waist and the generous push to her bosom rather unnecessary, and the light rouge on her cheeks feels like cheating, especially since he can tell how cold and pale she is underneath it all.

And even so, he would be the most shameless liar, if he claimed that she doesn’t look enchanting – like a forest nymph dressed up for a night of human fun, ready to play havoc on all men’s hearts. He will blame that image for the way his mouth has gone a bit dry and for the fact that he finds himself incapable of reassuring her even when he can see that she has taken his jest to heart.

*****

Rule? What rule was that? Of course, it stands to reason that she has blundered this already.

Emma hasn’t attended a ball in near two years and, as much as she enjoyed bringing Alice pleasure by letting her do her hair and colour her cheeks, she is afraid they should have consulted with someone better informed and more well-versed in the art of ball preparation.

“It’s just that you were not supposed to outshine the hostess, I believe.”

It takes her an embarrassing amount of time to decipher his comment and find the compliment inside, by which point Killian looks just as uncertain as she feels.

“I merely meant that—”

“Oh, I understand. I— Yes, well… thank you.”

He nods and holds his right hand out to her in a gesture that is becoming more and more familiar and Emma takes the last two steps and allows herself the comfort of his rough skin under her soft fingertips. Whether she does that too quickly or whether Killian is a second too late in stepping back is unclear to her but the result is that they are brought much closer to each other than either seems to have intended – so much so that, given the time – since she is sure she has the patience – Emma could count each shot of ginger and thread of white in his beard.

It is just as she decides that she has studied the barely visible indents on his lips long enough and prepares to lift her gaze above them and meet his own to judge if he is entertaining thoughts similar to her own that Ruby rushes into the room.

“Miss Alice says she will be just a minute.”

“Miss Alice has no notion of how long a minute lasts,” Killian replies immediately, even though his voice is a touch more choked than usual.

Then again, that might well be Emma’s imagination at play, her own reflexes seem sluggish and delayed and have left her staring at his profile once again.

“O you of little faith.”

This time she manages to react timely and look up the stairs to see Alice in her pretty blue gown, pretending to be mortally wounded by her father’s pointed remark.

“One swallow does not a summer make, darling,” he shoots back.

Alice waves her hand in a clear dismissal of her usual tardiness and rushes down the stairs – a hurricane of lace and tulle and pearl-white ribbons. She skitters to a stop beside Killian and loops her arm around his free left one, looking up at him expectantly.

“Shall we?”

“By all means.”

*****

Emma can hardly stop the little gasp that passes her lips as Killian hands her down from their carriage. Admiral Liam Jones’s estate bears no small resemblance to a modestly sized castle made of white marble. It fits perfectly with what she has seen of the regal Mrs Liam Jones but, for the life of her, Emma cannot image ever feeling at home in a place like this and she tries not to shudder a little at the sheer vastness of it.

“I imagine you would be rather unwilling to go back now that you’ve seen the superior Jones household.”

Killian’s tone is light enough but behind it she can tell that he truly believes she might covet a house as grand and awe-inspiring as the one before them. So Emma seizes the moment when Alice skips impatiently toward the entrance and steps closer to her husband, raising a little on her toes so her mouth ends up just under his ear, her nose barely brushing his warm skin.

“I should like to go back right away if I wasn’t afraid of ruining the superior Mrs Jones’s ball.”

Killian’s arm tightens around hers as he leads them after his daughter and Emma would’ve wondered how her comment might have been received, if it wasn’t for the sidelong glance he gives her – it is part genuine surprise and part mock consternation and Emma bites the inside of her cheek and does her best to remain perfectly composed and not enter Admiral Jones’s home like a giggling girl on her debutante ball.

Instead she throws herself into expressing her gratitude to Elsa as soon as she makes her way to them.

“I’m certain Captain Jones has been all too candid about my affinity for balls at which I’m not expected to dance but only entertain,” Elsa says with an elegantly careless gesture and a benevolent smile as she takes Emma’s arm and leads her away. “It is terribly liberating to host your own ball instead of attending others’s.”

Emma thinks all the expenditure, planning and preparation beforehand might compensate for the supposed freedom of the evening itself but she keeps that to herself and instead takes her time to admire the magical atmosphere and splendor of the ballroom that has been revealed to her. If it wasn’t for all the people milling about and surreptitiously stealing glances at her, Emma thinks she might have almost enjoyed this.

“Now, a few people have already expressed their desire to be introduced to the new Mrs Jones,” Elsa’s voice is almost placating but it doesn’t do much for Emma’s nerves.

“Oh, I—“

“Not to worry. I shall feed them to you in small doses so you can digest them as easily as possible. But if there is anyone that you wish to meet—“

“Thank you, I doubt— That is I’d rather just…”

She manages to stop herself but her treacherous eyes slip away in search of Killian and Alice without permission. The latter is nowhere to be seen, already lost in the depths of the brilliant ballroom, but her husband is just a few paces away, conversing with his brother.

Looking at them, side by side, Emma can hardly believe she ever thought Admiral Jones equal – let alone superior – to Killian in any way. Then again, she cannot point out the exact features and mannerisms that make the younger brother appear so much more handsome and appealing to her, just that when he laughs a little at some remark of the admiral’s she feels the flutter of it all the way in her chest.

“Well, then.”

She turns back to Elsa in time to see her putting away whatever expression left the twinkle in her piercing eyes and Emma does her best not to feel like she has been caught doing something wrong. Certainly, it isn’t wrong of her to look at her husband and to delight a little in the fact that he is wearing a red vest that stands out among all the white and black of the gentleman all around and which, according to Alice – if put on, means he is actually willing to dance tonight.

*****

For all the lightness of her satin slippers, Emma’s feet are already starting to ache. Her face feels uncomfortably flushed while the rest of her is familiarly cold and the vibrations and odours of the bodies all around her feel inescapably suffocating. She has forgotten how tiresome and stuffy balls can feel. She also keeps forgetting all names as soon as she has heard them and just prays that Elsa Jones is truly as omnipotent as she appears and won’t make the mistake of introducing her to someone twice, for Emma surely won’t be able to correct her.

“May I have this dance, Mrs Jones?”

The question – the voice – sends the first pleasant thrill of the evening through her. She looks up into the blue eyes of her husband and exhales in relief – glad for an interaction that doesn’t call on her to contract her face into shapes that don’t come naturally.

“We would be the most impertinent couple on the dancefloor, if I were to accept.”

“Would we now?”

“Indeed. I just refused a Mr Humbert on the pretext that I did not feel like dancing this one and you are being rather peculiar, asking your own wife.”

She thinks it is the first time she has referred to herself in that way and that is the source of a second satisfying little thrill.

“And is that the truth?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“That you do not feel like dancing?”

The question is completely matter-of-fact and, for some reason, the way he is looking across the room as they talk irritates some small vanity Emma didn’t know she possessed.

“I would dance with you.”

Her reply has the desired effect and, much to her satisfaction, Killian’s attention is now solely her own as he narrows his eyes a little and tries to suppress his smile in the face of her own challenging one.

“Then I suppose we should make our peace with being impertinent.”

*****

“It never ceases to amaze me how you arrange everything just so.”

“Everyone seems pleased, do they not?” Elsa looks around at her guests and lets her satisfaction show in throwing her shoulders back a little more than usual. “Even if your brother is being quite bothersome, paying all that attention to his wife.”

“I think you should count it as a victory to have him dancing at all. And, not to make myself into Mrs Jones’s champion, but you have been running that girl to exhaustion.”

“It is not my fault that her grandmother kept her so out of society that half the town doesn’t know her. Not shying away from all the attention is by far the best move now.”

Elsa takes few wifely duties as seriously as that of being well-acquainted with all who may have occasion to do business with one’s husband and, in the case of the brothers Jones, that includes most of anyone important. But she can almost forgive Emma for the neglect of her social obligations, if just for the way she smiles at Killian every time they come together during their dance.

“Frankly, my dear, knowing what a tree your brother can be, I really didn’t expect him to charm her so quickly.”

“So you find her charmed?”

“Oh, Liam,” she pats her husband’s arm and goes to check on how supper is coming along.

*****

After seeing Alice twirling joyfully in the middle of the ballroom, answering all of Elsa’s demands for her attention and forced pleasantness, conversing with Admiral Jones long enough to gain the impression that his brother may be the only person more prominent in his heart than his wife, and spending a dance in Killian’s arms, Emma is more than ready for the evening to be over. If it was, she could label it as a tiring but somewhat successful affair.

Unfortunately, the exquisite supper Elsa is sure to have planned for them is only the half-way mark.

So Mr Booth sees her into the supper-room and promptly takes a seat beside her. His conversation is not particularly unpleasant or disrespectful in an obvious way but Emma’s nerves are too tightly strung out already and with every course she finds herself growing more and more uncomfortable with his familiar attitude and cavalier way of speaking to her.

“I’m sure, just like our hostess, you are so very accomplished as to put us all to shame and in awe of you.”

“And I can assure you I am not. I neither draw, nor sew particularly well and I’m completely ignorant of all instruments and foreign languages.”

“Oh, but surely you’ve seen and done a great deal.”

Emma watches her knuckles stand out sharply where she is clutching her knife and doesn’t reply.

“And surely you ride?”

She swallows and forces her eyes back to his, lifting her chin a little higher.

“I do. My husband recently bought me my first horse.”

“Your first? Of course, a lady looks her best on a dancefloor and on a horse,” his smile is like a freezing little trickle down her spine. “I’m partial to the beasts myself. I believe you know my horse dealer, Mr Cassidy?”

Her stomach turns over and the fork clatters against her plate. She is sure no amount of rouge can bring the colour back to her face.

The presence of this man and all that he is now associated with is enough to keep her every muscle tensed but it is the memory of Neal telling her that the only place she would look better than on his horse is in his bed that steals any response she could have made and Emma bears the last course in silence before she excuses herself and rushes to the cloak-room to gather herself.

That proves to be her biggest mistake of the night. The maid she finds presses in a corner by an overeager valet is just on the right side of too young and uncertain to throw her further into memories that make the cold sweat now collect at the small of her back.

And Emma thinks she could’ve made it through the rest of the night, if there was anything to look forward to but all she can foresee is Elsa arranging her perfect dances by making Killian accompany some other smiling redhead on the dancefloor and bringing more people for Emma to be agreeable to. But it’s the thought of an invitation to dance coming from Booth’s leering face that makes up her mind.

Her main worry becomes verbalizing a proper excuse when she finds Killian in conversation with two older gentlemen but whatever expression is painted on her face seems to negate the need for words as he quickly excuses himself and leads her to the side.

“Is something the matter, love?”

She opens her dry mouth but no sound comes out.

“Emma?”

He approaches her the way she has seen people approach dogs that cower away from the slightest movement. If she could scoff, she would, but she is afraid it will turn into a sob before they make it out of the door.

She tenses a little when Killian’s hand settles on her arm and he removes it before she can tell herself to relax.

“Do you wish me to find Alice or Elsa?”

She shakes her head quickly and tries to apologize with her eyes as she makes herself ask.

“Can we leave?”

She is not truly worried that he will be angry or upset but she certainly expects some reluctance or confusion, not the ready acceptance on Killian’s face.

“Of course. Could you wait for me to make our excuses to Elsa?”

She nods and offers to fetch Alice.

“That won’t be necessary. She will be staying with her aunt and uncle for a couple of days.”

Minutes later, as Killian helps her into her coat and then into the carriage, Emma feels grateful Alice is not around as she seems to have spent all her smiles and what little warmth she brought with her from home.

Killian settles across from her in the carriage and she tries not to see this as a reproach of any sort. Instead she clasps her hands together, wets her lips and tries to bring some levity into her shaky voice.

“Well, aren’t I entertaining? You never know when I will make you rush off in the middle of a ball with half-formed excuses.”

In truth, she gave no excuse at all and the outward silliness of her behavior comes to her gradually with every bit of road they cover. Yet, she knows she should’ve been quite incapable of dancing with the way her hands and legs are still shaking a little and cannot make herself regret whatever actions brought her into the comfort and safety of the carriage and Killian’s sole company.

“I assure you, you will never hear me complain about leaving a dance early.”

Killian’s tone is light as well but his gaze is heavy and intent on her and his hand twitches restlessly on his knee. He seems tense and imposing and a better woman might have wished to spare him the turmoil but Emma just breathes deeply and treasures feeling guarded rather than threatened.

“Emma—”

She wouldn’t have minded finding out what he was about to say but as it is, leaving the noise and pressure of the evening behind and finding some measure of peace and comfort by moving clumsily across and sitting beside him is more important to her in that particular moment.

Killian shuffles a little to the side to make space for her and, for a little while, Emma thinks she can settle back into herself by staring out of the window and getting lost in the stars and dark clouds as her hand clutches his own. But the light drizzle that is washing the world outside only makes her more acutely aware of how cold and stark and unforgiving the world can be so she turns around to hide her face in his shoulder instead and, this time, when Killian’s arm goes around her, she only leans closer.

She leans into the warmth and scent of him, into the space between his neck and shoulder that feels scorching hot against her cheek, into the safety of his even breathing and his right hand entwined with hers, into the steady beat of his heart against hers and the tenderness of his mouth against the crown of her head.

It takes most of their journey home but Emma feels her own heart settle back securely in her chest as the rocking motion of the roads lull her to sleep and, just before she slips away, she notes with shockingly little surprise that she is warm all over.

She also notes that she is quite possibly in love.

Taglist: @bmbbcs4evr @laschatzi @darkcolinodonorgasm @shireness-says@profdanglaisstuff@courtorderedcake @passports-and-postagestamps@nikkiemms@winterbaby89@wyntereyez@sherlockianwhovian@mayquita@cocohook38@snotelek@yasbio2015 @superchocovian @facesiousbutton82@lawgeeks@whimsicallyenchantedrose @emmas-storybook @idristardis @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @kingofmyheart14  If you wanna be tagged in future updates (or if you want me to fuck off your mentions :D), just drop me a line ;)

For more: MY FANFICS   MY BOOK   MY BLOG

[gingerpeachtae]

Okay so I just wanted to say a huuuuuge ginormous thank you to you for being frickin amazing - so my friend recommended Concentric to me after telling me it was the only fantasy writing masterpiece (no lie this is how she worded it and I ain't abt to disagree either) and how you know W&G and wouldn't let me live until I read it all. And I wanted to thank you for that bc it's the first time saruma has ever been excited in months. She's been stuck at the hospital for sometime and the only visitor+

+ she gets is me her family is not to er great so to speak and she let it wear her down a lot until she logged onto tumblr and found your story!!! So thank you so much for helping her. Like idk if you’ll be able to understand how much but it was like HUUUUGE like I don’t mean to be cheesy but the way her eyes lit up lol when she was raving I just had to thank you a billion times over for that x so much x Also dw she hasnt msg you yet abt the update but she will her heart worked itself to hard+

+and she’s just resting she’ll be able to read it soon dw I really honestly just wanted you to know how much you helped her x it was so nice to see her happy after such a long time you are a literal ANGEL I WISH I COULD SMOOSH YOU IN A HUG. As she said you have the magic hands 😂😂. And now I’ll give love to your story jeon. Jungkook. Is So aggravating. Like boi get a grip PLZ and the actionnn oof y/n my bitch getting bad ass af. I love me some awesome character development. Hjfyu I can’t wait +

To see concentric unfold it’s sjsj nerve wracking. Also I dooo have a few lil questions which you totally don’t haaave to answer. Will y/n ever get her period? It’s usually not mentioned in action and fantasy ik but I just wondered ik my mind. Also the dream omg was it like a creature that feeds off people’s darkest fears? And gets stronger off hurt? Idk skskks off I wonder if it will have a reappearence also I stared at the line of jk caressing your face for to long then considered healthy ㅋㅋ+

I’m so sorry this is long af but I have SM to say like RIP SUHO MY MAN JUNMYEON. DAYUM IT LOWKEY OR HIGHKWY PIERCED MY HEART. I LOVE ANGST SM SO THIS IS RIGHT UP MY ALLY ALSO THE COD all the movie references JSJSJS I DIED. also I cannot wait for sope ksksks to sjsj yk 😏😏 and y/n and jk to yk😏😏. Hsjshs I’m sorry your writing is so enjoyable and funny and Angsty and oof I need more ㅎㅎi have SM more to say but I’ll really end here with a HUUUUGE THANK YOU AGAIN. I.L.Y I LOOOOOVE YOUUU X

Okay wow I am so… utterly speechless. I’ve been rereading this so many times today and each time I get overwhelmed with emotion (in a good way!). Like I deadass started tearing up a bit in my local grocery store when I read this the first time. I never would have imagined that my story could impact someone this way… I absolutely adore your friend and I cannot emphasize enough how honored I am to have created a positive impact on her life. She is so sweet and you seem like an absolute peach as well and I WISH I COULD SMOOSH BOTH OF YOU IN A HUG TOO!

And I always welcome questions! I’ve actually debated whether or not I should mention the dealio with y/n’s period 😂 we can just say that but she is on birth control that halts her period so she doesn’t have to worry about bleeding, cramps, and all that other wonderful stuff as she scuttles through the wilderness lol. As for the dream, it being because of a creature is an interesting theory! But alas, I can neither confirm nor deny at this time 😗

Seriously, thank you for sending this. I’m soft as fuck right now. LIKE SUPER DUPER SOFT. I loved reading your thoughts on the story and I hope I’m able to continue writing chapters you and your friend enjoy! I LOVE YOU TOOOOO! 😘💙🍑💙

[boobachu]

The T.C. rambles while watching a force awakes

Re-watching star wars 7 to see if out of the 3D headache IMAX theatre, if it’s any better.

I still hate parody Han Solo guy, like he reminds me of post-Black Knight Sonic the Hedgehog. Just really unfunny and trying way too hard to be hip and internet savvy or something.

I don’t think anything will change my opinion that he shoulda been a bit character.

I’ve decided to commentate the whole fucking movie so read on if you dare.

Rey’s making space bread. It’s very gross.

I doubt anything will change my opinion that she’s the best star wars character.

Oh God BB-8

HBomberguy ruined BB-8 for me. Whenever I see him all I hear is

L I T T L E   W H I T E   C U C K - B A L L L L L L

I guess Rey doesn’t like him either, I forgot this part.

I wish they got rid of the Dorito Destroyer.

Oh boy Darth Helmet is interrogating Lone Star.

Kylo Ren has the stupidest helmet.

There’s subtitles on this so I learned the guy’s name is Poe

RRRAAAAAAAAAAAA

Like Kylo Ren is really badass in the first half I remember this, like he stops a God damn laser blast.

Would you sell BB-8 for 60 meals?

Oh hey

Ugh what’s his name... the storm trooper’s gonna take Poe outta here.

You need a pilot. LOL

I guess Poe is alright, just his first impression was very dumb.

Oh snap it’s hooked down. What kinda name is Hux that’s stupid.

Ha hah shootin’ em down just like Annie in ep 1.

Get fucked command center.

Why do they still have Twin Ion Engine fighters?

I guess we still drive cars so eh...

Ah his name is Finn now, I guess he is a clone? or something?

Maybe they have multiple types of clones. I wonder if they still use Jango Fett...

Fucking proton torpedos!!!

Ah yeah I forgot Finn just wants to GTFO

Trailer shot. Nice.

Oh wait I can turn off subtitles. Good that was disorienting me.

And Poe dies... a great fake-out you thought parody han solo was a protag, but no this is the story of Finn, the storm trooper defecting from nazi hell-space to find his own life on Jakku or wherever.

He keeps Poe’s jacket for cover, very poetic. HAH

POE-ETIC God why did I hate this movie again?

If there’s a Kylo Ren, where is Kylo Stimpy?

Oh God Finn no don’t ugh drank the slop water ugh no why ugh

Finn goes to save Rey cuz white knight trope. Rey can handle herself like a ‘90s chick. Hey she’s a pit chick she’s got a staff.

RUN FINN RUN

Rey fuck taser what

Finn’s having a lousy life.

Poor basketball’s friend died. I feel like the story is rushing.

Like I expected more of a build-up not “SPIT OUT THE EXPOSITION FUCKIN”

Ah, storm troopers...

Rey doesn’t want your cooties, Finn.

Fucking TIE fighters fuck

Is Finn dead? No he just nappin’

Everything exploding!

THE GARBAGE’LL DO

God damn Millenium cheeseburger.

I can do this I can do this

HOW DO YOU FLY A CHEESEBURGER

Fucking karma’s a cheeseburger, that’s what you get for callin’ the SS you loser

The action scenes are choice

Ah Dorito ruins.

Oh I remember this part just

TIE DOWN

oh no Finn down

here it comes

G E T  R E A D Y

fucking engine exhaust TIOGHT

HARD RIGHT

WOOOOOO

Takin’ the shot yeah

Space

CHUCK A  SHIT

ohp

Kylo is Mado

NERD RAGE

AAAAAAAAAA

Kylo is such a 12 year old in 2003.

GIRL?! THERE WAS A WOM?!?!?!?!? XDDD fucking loser

pweese BB-8 help I dunno what I do

fucking lighter thumbs up

Damn Finn what a nerd. “Got a boyfriends? a boyfriend?”

oh no they got garbage dayed

come on Rey gas them gas them all

oh great it’s Han Solo and Chewie

oh wait he used to be Han Solo

What is he now Han Oriana? Whatever Leia’s last name was I never could spell it.

Damn buncha everything happens

Oh great it’s big eyed billy joe armstrong and his O-nauts

WE WUNT OR MUNEY BAEK NAU

oh boy more losers.

It’s all over for Solo.

Ah shit just unleashed things.

There goes the neighborhood just fucking angry meatballs of death AND HE FEEDS THAT DUDE TO IT

oh shit it quiet

Rey is allalone...

Fucking Finn I turn my head a sexond and the meatball caught him.

Get to da cheeseborger

“I never ask that question until after I’ve done it”

Just lightspeed dashed I swear he looks like british billie joe armstrong.

Damn giant fish thing on planet deadly pokeball.

Who is supreme leader he is stupid ugly stupid.

Oh his dad’s Han Solo wow way to blow it spoiler alert fucking why didn’t they save that for the end who wrote this crap oh he was a hologram.

Damn babuy chewie

Ah the new hope plot.

I dunno they twist it enough to make it feel fresh so eh.

Ah a planet of islands... the scenery reminds me of ep 2

“Did you just call me ‘Solo’?”

Women always figure out the truth, always.

There needs to be a han solo inspirational poster that says that.

A job? The fabled... job? You offer job?

Rey has a home? I thought she was just a wayfarer.

Don’t stare “At what?” any of it XDDDDD

Yeah this story feels like it’s going too fast like what’s going on.

HAAAN S O L O

Wait she’s hot for Chewbakka?

Man this band sucks.

Oh great fucking droid nark NARK

Weird lady narks NARKS EVERYTHWIER

Oh boy Darth Helmet is brooding.

Fucking Darth Vader. Kylo Ren is such a fanfiction.

Like, the idea of a warrior of light choosing darkness is something you seldom see done, but... eh... I guess? IRL kids no like most nazis are privilidged and a decade ago would be seen as nerds.

what’s this

what are you doing

The eyes of a man who wants to run

Finn need go bye-bye

Oh wait storm troopers are stolen, not bred. That’s worse like

Finn is really shiny there who does his makeup?

Rey sure didn’t care he was a storm trooper LOL

The screams... they becon me...

Finally a fresh feeling scene.

WHAT’S IN DA BOX

fucking lightsaber

T R I G G E R E D

Is she clairvoyant? I dond’t remember this part.

Is this special edition?

FUTURE

I like specs. She cool.

FUCK D A FORCE

Oh boy nazis

Fucking screamy bitch XDDD

FIST UP why are the nazis doing the fist up this is upsetting.

PEW

How does the laser split up into shit and what is this planet?

Like this is supposed to be dramatic but... you literally don’t know any of those people or any of those planets. This should have been episode 8 or 9 after establishing those planets.

 W H A T    A    W A S T E

oH BOY  Finn got da lightsabah

BEASTS

There goes that dump, way to go Rey it’s your fault I guess BLANKS

Way to kill that soldier

MURDER SPREE

Oh boy Kylo Ren, what a hoot that guy.

wait is this the part?

Han Solo so has the force like if his force3 ghost isn’t in the movie

YOU HAAAVE ONE

Han Solo what a goof

TRAITOR

M E L E E   B A T T L E

Fucking just like in Empire except it’s not Yoda hallucination probably.

Caughted

THE RESISTIES

The x-wing is still the coolest thing like Sonic knew that.

Damn Finn calm down it’s just a pilot.

Rey is in weird jungle o no

She just got godlike and Ren is gonna break that killstreak

MELEE OP

Fucking using cheater force

Kylo you sound like such a dork

That cross saber is still stupid where’s the minorah saber

Nooo Rey!!!

C’mon Finn melee them

fucking lightsaber the whole first order you can do it

just

throw it at the ship

just

throw

and the bad guys win

C-3P0 you mother fucker

Changed your hair

Same Jacket

I can’t believe Carrie Fisher is dead.

The resisties are kinda boring looking.

Oh look it’s Poe, he’s alive somehow.

Maybe the second time I’ll get the good explanation.

Oh no, there’s no good explanation he just wasn’t there.

L A A A A A A A A A A M M M E.

Okay we’re past a new hope kinda in empire strikes back territory and the ending is the last jedi. Like I totally get people being upset that this is basically the original trilogy in a nutshell.

Damn dead R2-D2

Wait C-3P0 has a red arm why

I wonder how many parents relate to Han and Leia because their son turned into a nazi.

Fucking Snoke. What kinda name is that. Solid Snoke.

Was Kylo Ren just staring at Rey’s unconscious body for the past hour?

I’m sorry he’s just not intimidating he looks like a cheap halloween darth vader

Then the dramatic reveal like remember when Darth Vader was so disfigured from burning alive?

Kylo’s just ugly. Like that’s it that’s the reveal. Kylo is ugly.

Rey/Kylo is like whenever a 4chan boy tries to hit on a hot youtube girl like your face just melds into the chair to escape his grasp like a cat that doesn’t want to be pet.

I dunno this scene is just so stupid cuz they both look dorky like this is happening at otakon

You. You’re afraid... that you will never be as strong as Darth Vader

BITCH GOT TOOOLLLLLLD

Kylo has a huge nose. Like he’s Lois Griffin triangle sandwitch nose

I like how Rey tries to Luke Skywalker the storm trooper and he’s like “Serious?”

LOL fucking just left

T A N T R U M   T I M E

and the storm troopers just turn around LOL

Okay I love this weapon like, it’s a combination of the star crusher and a vaccum cleaner from Luigi’s mansion. It destroys the star, but in the way that it uses it to destroy things.

“So it’s big”

Disable the shields... there better be Ewoks on that planet.

Seriously, what does Poe add to the story after the escape?

Damn leila and han... dum

Hey a woman stormtrooper, like just a white gal. I didn’t notice that.

Damn lightspeed their way in.

Hooooh what a landing.

...Han Solo...

That‘s not how the force works!!!

LOL

Finn just wants Rey. I can see why people would think he’s horny for her since that boyfriend line, but that was the last horny thing he said.

Fucking mad with Power, calm down Finn then again we all wanna tell off our boss.

Rey is gonna escappeeeee damn hang on the side of the wall is that a switch what

Rey just climbing that wall like a monkey.

S H I E L D S   D O W N

Fucking Han... is there a trash compactor? You dirty bastard

And here comes the interesting part of Jedi Returns SHOOTY TIME

A T T A C K   T H E   S C P H I N C T E R (that’s how you spell it right)

Oh I love the sun thing like, it’s a great way of showing the timer without a clock.

Oh look it’s Rey, go on and almost get shot to death

H U G

Escape now, hug later.

The cinematography is good I like the dog fights.

LET”S BLOW SHIT UP

I dunno this just really isn’t dramatic at all

Placing bombs, just like in Jedi.

Here comes Kylo

At least he keeps the mask on, like too many movies rely on faces.

oh light’s almost gone.

M A H   B O Y

Ah the stupid part

Wait is his name Finn too?

Like this woulda been way more dramatic if you didn’t know Kylo was Han’s boy.

There’s no music making this awkward and gut-wrenching which you don’t see modern mvoies do.

I’m being torn apart ;w;

What a bitch

Knowing what happens these lines are hilarious

Will you help me

L I G H T S   O U T

red

STAB, STAB, STAB~

AHHHHHH HOOO HOO HOO HOOOIIEEEEE

I dunno like, you’d think Han Solo being stabbed to death with his son would feel more heavy but that was just... nothing.

A S P L O D E

Fucking Kylo TEEF

Night time, being chased by a crazy dork in the woods.

oh here it comes

TRAILER FUEL

YEUR A MUNSTAH

REY DOWN

C’mon Finn

TRAAAIIITOOORRRR

MORTAL KOMBAAAAAAAT

Fucking melee battle

Just fueled by the rage of his fallen friend, the desparation of the sun dissolving he fights for his life against a wounded lunatic.

Okay so maybe that cross saber has a use.

FINN DOWN

grabby time

oh no

REY GRABBED THE SABER

ROUND TWO, DARTH LOSER

This is unbearably xcool

Time to shoot the hole... like in new hope.

This ending is just all three original endinds with new stuff

30 seconds

SNEAKED IN SHOOT EM UP WOOOOOOOO

JUST LIKE ANNIE IN EP 1

only cooler

KA BLOOOOIIEEEE

fuckin’ A

this battle is just like in empire strikes back

fucking planet’s falling apart so it’s better

A tempting offer

Who wants kylo ren to be a teacher like he’d be like a nun

W 0 0 T

it’s the comeback

don’t give the hero a dramatic pause to focus

B E A T   D O W N

the struggle is real

K-O

Take that loser

there seems to be something between us, Ren

Welp the planet is collapsing woo

Finn don’t you die, Poe is a loser you’re cool Finn

Ah it’s Chewie in the Churger

oh yeah han died like I thought it was han but no he died XDDDDD

GTFO

Here comes the sun doot de doo doot~

Epic

Now for the final scene of congrats.

“Sorry General, your boyfriend was stabbed by his son and then the planet exploded”

H U G

Poor Chewie.

Fucking Artoo what are you doing here.

Like, this shoulda been episode 8 here, it feels like it shoulda ended with han’s funeral and the map was the start of the next movie aunno.

And Finn’s tale of a freedom slave blowing up the nazi death planet comes to a close.

Wait is she leaving?

I thought there was a funeral.

Nothing?

Not even an F?

Yeah then se see’s Luke’s hairy ass and it ends so awkwardly like this movie felt like two movies and THIS SHOULDA BEEN IN THE SEQUEL WHAT

Whoever wrote this is an idiot, whoever directed is even worse.

ANyways my conclusion is that the movie isn’t horrible, but... I dunno it’s about as bad as ep2 tho that movie’s crime was being boring, this one was too much story crammed into a short period and ruined opportunities.

I might watch ep 8 but I just am not invested like

HAN SOLO DYING MEANT NOTHING

Like fucking handing him a lightsaber what kinda ending is that

R O G U E   O N E   W A S   B E T T E R.

The end.

[ask-joeydrewstudios]

Henry’s Unfortunate Ink-antation [Part 7]

[submitted by: @the-elusive-blue-skittle]

After having breakfast with Joey and the other toons, Henry ran off with Bendy. The little devil had heard a big CRASH come from one of the bigger rooms on the first floor, and dragged Henry with him to investigate. Someone had broken a mirror… Whoever that was had better be ready for seven years of bad luck.

The toon duo peeks around a corner to spy on whoever had broke the mirror. And who else but Andrew Henderson? Looks like someone got too angry over not getting his way. Bendy, of course, sees this as an opportunity for a prank. The little devil winks at his buddy, making a ‘shush’ motion as he creeps around the corner.

Without warning, he inexplicably jumps into what appears to be ‘behind’ the panel in which the glass once resided. The heavy-set man looks back at the mirror he broke to see… A reflection. But it’s in black in white! Andrew is none the wiser to the presence of the little devil as he motions a hand wave. He turns his back and looks at the mirror over his shoulder. The reflection does the same. He gets in real close…

And the reflection does, too. The two touch noses, which causes Andrew to yell loudly and flee the bathrooms as Bendy cackles in a boisterous manner.

“KAHAHAHAHH! YEAH, YA BETTER RUN!”

Henry covers his mouth and giggles, watching Andrew run away with his tail between his legs. Running up to his pal, Henry bounces in place excitedly, the prank having riled him to pull one on his own. But what kind of prank could he possibly pull?

“Bendy, that was amazin’! You really put on a show, there!”

“Aw, shucks… I appreciate your enthusiasm, Henry!”

Henry glances past the little devil, and into one of the broken mirror shards. He raises a brow.

“… Do I really look like that?”

“Well, yeah. Get a good look at’cherself, pally, ‘cause if ya get splatted again, you’ll know the difference between an arm and a leg!”

Henry picks up a mirror shard, holding it at different angles to inspect his face and body.

“I look so… Weird! But it feels right somehow…”

“Well, ya better get used to it! You’ve got a whooooole week ahead’a ya’s!”

Henry stares into the mirror, slowly poking his left cheek. It’s a LOT squishier than when he was human, though even then, his wife played with his face to tease him. Tugging on said cheek, the new toon winces, somewhat bothered by the sheer elasticity of what he still considers ‘skin’. He lets go, letting the part of his face snap back into place as if it hadn’t been touched in the first place. Looking closer, Henry notices that there are two big spots on his cheeks that bear a slightly darker shade of grey, resembling rosy cheeks.

The toon sports a small smile at his reflection, cupping his left cheek with a hand. “Well, gosh… I’m … Kinda cute!”

Bendy snickers under his breath. “Keheeheehee… Aaaaalright, pretty boy, time to put the mirror down!”

“Wait, did I say that out loud?! Quit laughin’! It’s not funny!”

“Ohhhhhh, yeah it is! Pretty boy.”

“Aw, shut up, you tutu-wearin’-” “Ah-ah-ah, Henry! You said it yaself, and I ain’t one to disagree.”

Henry’s cheeks flush with dark grey. He doesn’t even have the willpower to retort that he’s not cute, because he knows that the very opposite is true. The little devil slaps him on the back with a grin.

“Chin up, big guy! We got more pranks ta pull! Come on!”

In Henry’s mind, he second-guesses himself, asking himself if he’d usually call himself out like that under normal circumstances. Pushing these thoughts aside, the toon simply follows along like nothing happened.

Henry smiles, nodding as his little buddy takes him by the hand and drags him off to the first floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, as Henry’s being dragged along to the main part of the studio, he’s lost in his own thoughts, legs going on autopilot as his mind races.

‘This is all happening so easily… So… Fast… Have I always been so easily convinced to go around and cause trouble? Would I normally do this if my job wouldn’t be put on the line? I mean… I’m loving that I get to go around with Bendy all day, and staying at the studio with d- Joey isn’t bad, either, but… I feel like I’m missing something important. Oh well… If I can’t remember, it probably wasn’t very important in the first place, was it?’

Further disregarding the thought, Henry shakes his head a little as he listens to Bendy going on a spiel on the perfect prank to pull.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Around lunch time, a special visitor stops by for Henry, who had found a comfy reading spot right in the middle of the floor. Looking up from his novel, the toon smiles as his lovely wife comes into view. Dianne smiles back.

“Hiiiii, honeybun,” Dianne coos, gently setting a bag to Henry’s side. “I brought goodies. There’s a couple books, a lunch, some pillows and blankets, some nice colored pencils, and… Your secret thing.”

“Awww, thanks, pumpkin. You’re the best!” Henry exclaims, hopping to his feet and planting a kiss on his wife’s lips. Dianne smiles and squeezes the little toon in a tight hug.

Sighing, Henry squeezes back. “I’m sad that this is all the cuddle time we haaave…”

“Oh, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be back home in no time, right?” She asks, pinching his monochrome rosy cheek with a grin.

“Hahahah… Right!”

Dianne looks at the clock. “Would you look at the time! I need to get home before dark.” “But it’s only half past noon!”

“Oh, I suppose you haven’t seen… There’s a big storm coming. Sorry, Hen…”

At the mention of a storm, Henry’s expression falls. “S… Storm? Wuh-oh…”

Dianne bites her lip. She always forgets about Henry’s little phobia… Scooping Henry up off the floor, Dianne kisses her little husband all over his face, snuggling him like he’s a baby kitten. “I love you, pookie. You’ll be okay. I promise.”

Henry smiles, not making an effort to remove the toonified lipstick stains from his face. “Thanks, sweetums… I love you, too. Drive safe for me, alright?”

“Okay, Hen-Hen. See you tomorrow,” Dianne smooches him one last time before putting him down, leaving the toony animator to swoon back and forth in place. “Cutie-pie.”

Henry dares not retaliate at the comment, instead cupping a hand to his cheek with a bashful wave. “Oh, you… Byyyye, toots!”

Dianne smiles one last time before heading out the door, leaving Henry to keel backwards. He falls on the floor with his hands clasped over his perceived diaphragm, a white lily soon sprouting into his hands from out of nowhere.

‘Gosh, I love her so much…’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The storm going on outside has been raging for a long time. Not that anyone’s been counting, of course. The second the first raindrop fell, Henry already grabbed his bag and disappeared under Random Employee #406’s desk. With the bag clung tightly in Henry’s grasp, the poor toon shakes and shudders, whimpering as his eyes dart around the ceiling. Is anything leaking? Ohh, it’d be a DISASTER if the roof started leaking. He still has no idea how badly water would hurt him in this state. He screeches a little as something falls on his head, though he quickly realizes it’s his overactive imagination.

The employee drags Henry out from under her desk, prompting him to yelp and dash under another desk. Conveniently, his own. Though… It’s dark and scary over here, and the rumbling thunder outside doesn’t help much. Henry glances around fearfully, and repeats the process of hiding to excess. Joey is busy in his office, dealing with Bendy, so he can’t hide there just yet.

‘Wait, wait, okay… Calm down… Let’s be rational… It’s just a storm! Just a measly, little-’

At that moment, the loudest thunder Henry’s EVER heard rings out, shaking the building, and causing the poor little toon to tremble under the blankets Dianne had brought him in the dark, empty corridor he calls his ‘office’. The blankets smell like home…

‘Okay, Henry, focus… Focus… The blankets smell like home… Home is nice, and Dianne brought the blankets, and I love Dianne… Dianne makes me happy, so if I just remember home, and Dianne, and her pretty voice, and her smile… ‘

Thinking of Dianne allows Henry to calm down enough to inspect his surroundings, checking for leaky roofs and people walking by.

CRASH!

Squeaking loudly, Henry dashes to another location in the blink of an eye, no longer keeping composed, rational thought about his situation. He had made the mistake of hiding in a spot where Wally WAS cleaning. Wally shoves the toon out from under the table with his broom.

“Hey! Shoo!” “S-Sorr-”

RRRRRRRUUMMMMM…. CRASH!

“eeEEP-”

The janitor’s stern expression falters. He feels guilty about last night. Though… he still needs time to cool down. For now, he gives Henry an awkward pat on the shoulder and points him in the direction of a good hiding spot. It’s where he’d always find Bendy in the midst of any rainstorm. The little toon nods shakily in understanding, heading off in the direction Wally was pointing.

After an hour or so, Henry had been kicked out of every hiding place he could find, with the fastest record of the door slamming on his rear being… Sammy’s office. Of course. With nowhere else to go but deeper, Henry slowly saunters to the stairs leading to the lower floors. The rainwater and thunder won’t be such a big threat deep underground, right?

Upon arrival to the Heavenly Toys department, Henry can’t help but feel a little uneasy at all the giant plushies sitting around everywhere. He’d only ever been down here twice, and even back then, the toys were few and far-between.

Henry carefully and quietly traverses the large room, up the stairs, and to the doorless entrance to Shawn’s office. He knocks on the frame of the door.

Knock knock knock.

Shawn looks up from the doll he was working on. Turning around, he sees the little toon he’d recently gotten acquainted with. “Oh, afternoon, Henry! What can I do ye for?”

Henry remains silent, the blanket and bag pressed close to his body, and the soft blue material obscuring the lower half of his face.

The Irish toymaker notices Henry’s demeanor, and his expression falters. “Oh… It’s the storm up there, ain’t it? Come on an’ sit down over here.” Shawn pulls over a cushioned chair next to his desk and pats the seat, inviting the toon to come and sit with him. Henry gladly obliges, climbing into the chair with the objects still being hugged close to his body.

The little toon sits there for a moment as Shawn gets back to work. He slowly digs through his bag from Dianne to find… Walter, the childhood teddy bear. Henry raises a brow, but realizes that, perhaps, for however long he’ll be stuck at the studio, Walter can fill in for Dianne. He wraps himself up in two of the three blankets packed, hugging the now much larger bear close.

Shawn turns to look at Henry, who, upon noticing that he’s being observed, immediately gets embarrassed and tries to hide his face. The toymaker smiles a soft smile.

“Hey, ye don’t gotta hide from me. I can keep a secret.”

The childlike toon nods slowly, going back to snuggling the home-scented bear in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours pass. Henry has securely fallen asleep in Shawn’s comfy chair, all snuggled up in his blankets and snoring. Shawn looks at his watch, quietly getting his things together.

Poke poke.

Henry opens an eye, rubbing it with a limp hand under his glasses. “Whassa matter?” “Sorry, but it’s time to get up. I can’t leave ye down here all night. I gotta go home.”

“Oh,” Henry sighs, stretching with a small squeak escaping his throat. “Mmkay…”

The Irish toymaker helps Henry up and out of his chair. The little toon puts his things away in his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Thanks a million, Shawn.. I owe ya!”

“Oh, nonsense. It was my pleasure! Now, c’mon, up we go.”

Henry nods silently in agreement, following Shawn up the stairs, past all the pipes and metal doors, and back up to the music department. The stereotypically short Irishman waves goodbye to his co worker and wanders off to the exit, leaving Henry to hesitantly make his way up to the first floor by himself. The storm is still going, though not as harshly as before.

During the walk back to the first floor, Henry gets lost in his own thoughts, his legs going on autopilot as he wanders.

‘Today went by a lot faster than I thought it would… I’ve been feeling a little funny after I got mashed into the wall a buncha times… Maybe it’s just the cabin fever getting to my head. Wait. That didn’t make a lot of sense just now. What’s cabin fever got to do with being splattered like a tube of paint? Oh, well… Guess I’m just tired, huh? REALLY tired…’

Henry turns the corner, somewhat perturbed by the sounds of the Machine’s pumps. He hasn’t really been around them for this long, and the sounds are really starting to nag at his Schrodinger’s brain. The little toon stops in his tracks to yawn and rub his eyes, getting visibly sleepy. He mutters to himself on the rest of the way to Joey’s office.

“Mm… Sleepy…”

… All of a sudden, Henry collapses on the wooden floor, snoring loudly. Joey peeks out of his office, which is only another twenty feet away. He smiles and retrieves the toonified animator, bringing him back and tucking him in in the comfy office chair. With the stuffed bear tucked securely between his arms and chest, Henry smiles softly in his sleep.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six