#they have the best sillies moments too!! even the ones with henry!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

futuristicanoe · 26 days ago

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the virus of life

do you remember where it all went wrong?

Of all the bars, of all the charming places, he just had to walk in here. Right where you hated to be.

no smut & this is probably going to be a series. Mark! [ unnamed health issues, food/eating, alcohol & blood mention, uneasiness, ambiguity. mature themes. ]

He pushed the door open gently.

The door chime shook with only a hushed imitation of its usual noise. Had it been some other day, you would have missed it. But in that moment, you had a strange feeling in your gut, the sort you get after a migraine turns your brain into a mushed pulp of agitation. You could even hear the restless cicadas buzzing outside, and the sound got louder for a second as he slipped into the room like a ghost, shutting the door behind him quietly.

Your position was quite comedic.

You were looming over the mini fridge that Henry had put beside your chair a while ago— he was the owner of this rusty diner-bar-whatever, and he thought it would be a nice gesture to give you a tiny fridge, so you wouldn't need to go all the way back to the kitchen, if you wanted to help yourself with a cold something. The only reason you worked there was that you needed some money and needed it more than sleep, too. Obviously– Henry had been a godsend. Nobody looked at you twice, let alone tried to guess your age or doubt your work experience. So, it was easy to ignore how the lights flickering inside the empty fridge were plucking your nerves one by one.

Sitting behind the counter with your back hunched, you were hidden from the view completely. No need to worry about how absolutely silly you must have been to the stranger.

When you heard the soft clicking of what were undeniably short heels accompanying the earlier, supposedly graceful entry, you had been almost ready to look up and greet a woman.

Well, you had been ready to greet anyone, but someone like him.

You straightened your back, fixing your hair that was getting greasier by the second, even though you had washed it last night. It frustrated you.

After quickly throwing away the couple of ice cubes you had been holding in your hands, you wiped your numb fingers on your apron. You felt a bit flushed, still. There was no name for that, the sudden rush of warmth staining your skin red from time to time, but it had started only a few days prior, so you blamed it on everything from the passing flu to hormones.

The stranger was not expected. There was no "Hello," yet he kept walking in.

Unlike you, who did not need more than a mere sign of someone entering the room to analyse them already, your full attention drawn in an instant – for a good while, he did not even look at you. Instead, he simply took his time to look over the dingy little place, stealing glances at the old furniture and the wallpaper, a different shade in each corner. It was as if you did not exist, so you said nothing. Best to not ruin the fantasy that didn't belong to you.

Cicadas always did a good job of being entertaining, with their shrilly little noises. And if he gave that up, crawled into this bubble of momentary comfort that you had built around yourself and even had the audacity to ignore you, then it was only fair to continue analysing.

The colour of his shirt was an odd yellow, like a warning signal. And it was open at the top, no doubt adorned with tiny details that you did not really want to see up close, because they would linger in your mind afterwards. He had a suit jacket on, too. The darkest shade of grey or blue, not quite black. Or maybe it was just the weird lightning. You blinked almost aggressively to keep yourself wide awake, and regretted it right away when you felt your eyelashes sticking to each other, dry mascara making your eyes sting.

He walked to the counter, acknowledging your presence only when he was within an elbow's reach. Sat down in the squeaky chair, placing his coat and his leather bag on the one next to him.

"How can I help you, sir?"

The stranger flashed a smile. Sincere only for a second and tastefully impersonal all over.

"Good evening," he said, to which you responded with a nod and parroted the words quietly. Somewhere in the back of your mind praying that you did not look too ridiculous or too childish. Not that you were trying to impress him, exactly, just that you were neither ridiculous nor a child, and you didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "The air feels so dry today... I would like something fresh and cold, maybe. How about that?"

You got up instinctively, hoping that the soft thud your shoes made on the wooden floor did not give away how your chair was made for someone taller. You paused when you faced the shelves, looking at him over your shoulder.

"We are out of ice, sir," you said with a slight frown and squeezed your numb hands together.

"Ah, I see." He nodded, placing a thumb on his chin. Then he looked at the refrigerator, which stood in the corner, looming over you.

"That's– yes, it is working..." You felt your face warm up when you made your way to the fridge and almost tripped over your own foot. "But there is no more ice left, sir. We only have some softer things in there. For children, mostly. Like fruit juice and... ice cream."

He raised an eyebrow. "Ice cream, but no ice. I think I got it."

You smiled out of awkwardness, fidgeting with your apron.

He looked at your smile. The lipstick you had put on in the morning needed to be reapplied, evidently. Smudged traces of crimson along the seam of your lips almost made your mouth look like a fresh wound, about to bleed.

His gaze flickered back up to your eyes.

"The sign outside said something about pie, if I can recall correctly," he said, his voice suddenly monotonous, like looking at you was the most boring thing in the world.

"Yes." You nodded. "We–"

"Two slices of pie, then."

He smiled to make up for interrupting you.

You just looked at him, caught off-guard.

"Two?"

"Yes. There are just the two of us here, I'm assuming."

"No, yeah, but–" You stopped.

Was that sarcasm?

You felt a sudden need to get out of there. Alone.

"Well, I'm not feeling hungry at all, sir."

"I'd like to buy you a slice. Just because it is getting pretty late and you look a bit... out of it." He paused, as if mimicking you. "You don't want to be lying with me now. So, please."

You did not really know how to answer, but you remembered what your job was.

"I think we have some cherry pie left."

Your voice was monotonous, too.

Mirroring each other already.

"Perfect."

You went to the kitchen with a rickety mind.

It felt weird, the whole thing. The way he was overall polite but almost rude, if you looked too closely. He smelt like something – an expensive cologne, yes, but there was this chemical scent around him. Like paint. Or acetone. Something bitter and torn apart, but nothing new.

By the time you got back, he had taken off his suit jacket. You did not know he had been wearing braces beneath it the whole time. They looked nice. Even if you couldn't see where they were clipped onto his pants, and you never would, the dark lines digging into his shirt looked good.

You sat down the tray as carefully as you could.

He looked at you with a curious gaze and then stared at the plates with the same curiosity.

"You know what would make the cherry on top?" He waved a hand over his slice of cherry pie, amused by his own joke.

A cup of coffee?

"Some ice cream, of course." He answered his own question, too.

You were glad you hadn't sat down in your chair already, because you would have really hated to get up again.

The lights did not flicker inside that fridge, and it was not empty either, which was a relief. You stood with your back to him for a moment too long, pretending to look for the expiration date when you just wanted the cold air to cool down your face.

He looked almost hungry. And you did not really understand anything about him or his hunger. Or his hair. Not that unusual for men like him to come here and order a drink, obviously. But this had never really happened before – he was acting overly nice while maintaining an aura around him, the one that told you how easy it would be for him to forget you. To erase you — you shuddered as your finger accidentally touched the ice cream you were putting on top of your pie. You almost licked it clean, as if you were home. Alone.

It felt like he could tell what you were thinking of, knew exactly how much you wanted to avoid thinking while he was right there. The grin on his face disappeared only when it was necessary. As he took a forkful of his dessert and brought it up to his mouth, he looked at you.

"Hmm. This is to... pleasant surprises," he said way too formally before putting the fork in his mouth.

Dramatic.

"Oh." You did not know how you could break the silence and avoid cutting your fingers with the shards later.

You took a bite, careful with the lipstick at first before just dragging your lips across the fork carelessly.

He chewed slowly, and the cough after he swallowed suggested that he would've much preferred a cold drink. You almost winced.

The pie was very good, all cherry sweetness sticking to your gums and with the thick ice cream on top, it felt almost heavenly after a tiring day like this one.

"Splendid," he said.

You wanted to tell him it was not a compliment, because you did not make any of it. But you still nodded as a thank you, popping a cherry in your mouth and mentally grimacing at the lines of glossy redness on your fork.

He shifted in his seat, preparing to say something else. "Forgive me, I don't mean to pry, but I noticed a guitar over there, in the corner. Is it yours?"

You swallowed quickly to avoid talking with a mouthful.

"No, no." You sighed, playing with the melting ice cream on your plate. "It was my dad's. He used to play. Not- not anymore. So I thought I could give it to someone. That's why I brought it here."

You felt exposed. It was unusual for you to talk like that. Maybe it was the pie, or he just seemed like the person who would do everything but let you keep your mouth shut. All tangled up in charm that you'd never understand or mirror.

He looked puzzled and put his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together in front of his chin. "Somebody could steal it. It seems to be in a rather vulnerable position. And it has an old soul, doesn't it? You shouldn't keep it all bare and dusty like that."

Even though his voice sounded soft, the tone of his words was eating away at your patience.

"I wasn't gonna sell it. I just want to get rid of it. Better than throwing it in the trash or burning it for Christmas, no? If someone were to steal it, I mean."

He smiled gently.

Your appetite still was not present.

"Do you know how to play, sir?" You asked him, putting your fork down.

The look on his face remained somewhat unsure, though you did not know what he was so perplexed by. Maybe it was because of a stranger asking him a question like that, but he wouldn't be so surprised by something he had just done, surely.

"I do, yes." He nodded. "Would you take me for a musician at the first glance?"

You pondered his question, looking him over. Taking in the way his eyes sparkled, how his posture was steady, the modest tilt of his head demanding an honest answer.

"Sure," you blurted out, grabbing your fork again. "You do look like an artist."

"How intriguing."

He could not stop thinking about something you said earlier, but he still kept asking you about himself. "Any artist in particular?"

"No," you said, confident with your answer.

He paused before speaking up again. "So, what does an artist look like, then?"

You sighed, sliding your fingers over your forehead to soothe your headache, at least a bit. It felt good to have something you could focus on. Even if the thing in question was a man, somebody you did not know in the slightest—it was just another workday you had to live through, and it would end soon.

"It's not about appearance, you just have to know what you are looking for... Sir."

He responded with a nod. "Ah, here I thought that all of this lurid yellow would be a cause for... an association," he grinned. It almost looked like he was genuinely enjoying all of this, but his quick toothy smile was not coming from a place of happiness, still.

"What, you wanted me to say Van Gogh or something?" You laughed, feeling the tension in the room slowly easing up, and it just felt nice to laugh. But the headache only got worse when you were laughing. It only lasted three seconds.

He chuckled. "No, but it's–"

"No, you aren't Van Gogh."

His eyes widened slightly when you interrupted him, when he heard that playful tint in your voice.

"But you can wear it– you could be a part of his..." You closed your eyes before blinking harshly and catching his gaze again. "Maybe you are Mr. Gauguin, Sir."

He stared, his interest piqued once more.

"Something is telling me he isn't your favourite."

You hummed, gripping your fork tighter and covering your mouth as you chewed. He had already stopped eating, but you decided that the excuse a mouthful of pie could make for your silence was great. "I think his paintings are interesting."

"I think it is rude to judge a complete stranger," he said with a small smile.

You gulped when you felt how the pain beneath your temples was making your eyes water, stinging horribly like the mascara hadn't been doing that well enough. "Well, you told me what I should n' shouldn't be doing with my dad's guitar."

You did not have to say it like that. You did not have to say anything at all.

His face seemed unreadable as he looked at you, leaning back in his chair.

The sugary mess was making the back of your throat feel almost sore, and you jumped to your feet. Your knees lacked certainty as you walked to the fridge for a bottle of water.

"It just surprised me," he said. His voice sounded much lower than before, not bursting with curiosity. His words were just pieces of the giant mess you would call honesty, and the idea made you shiver. That a stranger would be willing to give that to you.

He laughed before adding with a lighthearted tone, "I'd have never guessed that Henry could play the guitar. He always thought I was a fool for loving music."

You froze. "I'm—" As if it was your first time feeling this way. Cornered without receiving an actual threat. "I'm not Henry's daughter, Sir."

A sense of dread hollowed your stomach out, reaching your heart and tugging on your tongue, and you needed to get some water down as soon as possible before you got sick.

He did not seem to doubt your words, like he already knew what you would answer with, and just made sure that his assumptions were correct.

He knew what to expect, you thought, a man like him would not waste his time talking with a liar. Or a complete stranger.

Maybe you had an imaginary world in your head, home down the road to let your old memories gather proper dust on the shelves, but you were just a waitress here. Not somebody's daughter, not anyone he has met before, or was hoping to meet, apparently.

"Oh," he said, "Right. Of course."

There was nothing you could do to have a look at his thoughts. You were not even looking at him.

It was just like the beginning. But you were the stranger this time. Avoiding a piercing gaze and a wave of questions that would make you feel more vulnerable than being out there in the dark. Alone.

You wondered if he was feeling confused. If he was trying to pinpoint the exact moment when he had miscalculated something. With a furrow in his brow, staring at your silhouette like he was the one casting the shadow over you and not that lifeless place, not that miserable town you have been suffocating yourself in.

It did not matter what you had felt, but that you turned around despite it. You looked him in the eye.

"I guess you don't have to pay for my pie now, sir."

He tilted his head to the side. "I did not have to do anything, it turns out." He smiled after that, like he was joking. "This could be a pleasant surprise. Please, don't frown."

"I'm not," you murmured.

"Very good."

He nodded and grabbed his bag.

You looked away, feeling ridiculous. Somewhat like a child who just showed their parents a painting, beaming with love, only for them to ignore the meaning of it. When tears began clawing at your throat and the sticky mascara had nothing to do with it, you wondered again, going quiet as if checking a pulse. Curious if that child still lived inside you.

Of course it did not.

You watched him put the money on the counter, and hated that you would have to look away from his hand.

"Thank you," you said.

He took his coat, took his bag and started walking towards the door without saying a single word.

Funny how he did not need to put the coat on, because he had a car waiting for him, and yet he still brought it inside.

He halted his steps when he reached the door, turning around on his heels.

"Will you tell him about me?" he asked.

It took you just a second– he was talking about Henry. Henry, who did not even know what your birth name was or where you lived.

"Plenty of people come here, sir. And this is the first time I've tried the thing– the pie I've been giving to them."

His mouth twitched to a smile.

"To answer your question– no, I will not. Will you, sir?" You asked.

You knew the answer when he put his hand on the door handle.

"There is nothing for me to say."

If he murmured a "see you," then it must have disappeared in the sudden of whoosh of wind as he left, closing the door modestly.

You had refused to look at the money while he was still in front of you. But something caught your eye, shining among the green bundle of figures and numbers.

You grasped it with your clammy hands.

It was a business card.

TRANQUILITY BASE

HOTEL AND CASINO

AWAITS YOU, COME

AND STAY WITH US

You flipped it over with a quiver churning in your fingers, like the other side was beginning to burn your skin.

— (132) 411 33 51 42

There was something written below the phone number, clearly added to the card with a regular pen, all jumbled and messy.

— ASK FOR MARK.

You sat back down in your chair.

The dull pain loosened its circle of rope around your jaws and settled in your stomach.

#look...#I have no idea what this is #but it was chomping down on my brain #begging to be posted #so here we are #mark !!!!#alex turner x reader #alex turner fic #alex turner x you #alex turner x oc #my writing

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1000sunnygo · 1 year ago

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One Piece 1093

//long post, manga spoilers ahead

Congratulations to Law for his second time trending as "Law's female form" and congrats to Kamiya Hiroshi too for trending alongside him!! (her?)

I have no doubt that Law's role would always be special to Kamiya. The way he strained his voice to raise his pitch to a new high made my throat sore on his behalf..... But I liked it more than I expected! I could feel in my bones that it was an uncomfortable transformation Law wanted to free himself from as soon as possible bwahahah

I like the anime original dialogue とにかく、ヤベぇ！(tonikaku, yabee!) Even with my crap japanese it was as hilarious as hearing him say "Anyway, I'm cooked!" I don't think Law uses the term "Yabee" a lot so that felt refreshing lol

It seems the more controversial quote was this one, the speech in Japanese would be literally translated to "my strength isn't coming out as usual". Personally, I didn't immediately associate it to weakness due to being woman but moreso as an additional side affect that came with it, after all, it's dubbed as a disease. I like to think Doc Q didn't only come up with it as a deranged fantasy but to impose a real handicap for the victim to have their body modified in a way that limits their ability to fight and use their usual powers, either due to magic or just out of discomfort. Unlike Ivankov's fruit that alters hormones, it's just a physical change, it makes sense why it's more unnatural and uncomfortable.

The female Law scene was animated by Yuu Yoshiyama, he also did Hancock's scene from Amazon Lilly invasion episode. The scene was fanservicey but thankfully not as over the top as the Bonney scene from few episode prior to this one. The episode didn't drag on even during the slower parts, the screentime was well spent. The obnoxious, repetitive closed up reaction shots weren't there.

Moving on to B part, nothing much to speak of Ishizuka's brilliant storyboard that hasn't been said. My favorite observation was this:

Some parts where characters didn't immediately follow up with a second attack was frustrating until I remembered Blackbeard and Law both put their lives on line when they use their fruit and so can't take risks. Cheaper trick shots and silly gimmicks that people blame Law for not using more frequently were probably never the best option. That said, unfortunately, Law lost the moment he used both his strongest attacks onscreen and failed. I don't think the fight was longer than what we saw here. The anime just made it more obvious.

Another anime original dialogue I liked is Blackbeard saying "what a handy ability you've got!" right before their final clash. He was using Tremor fruit until that point and then he switched to his OG attacks, it was unsettling how he's not only fighting but looking at Law's abilities as something that he'll soon take away from him. Unlike Doflamingo, Teach had no pre-decided plan involving Law's fruit and considered selling the fruit as appealing alternate as using it for its abilities. Honestly, we can't underestimate Doflamingo's knowledge. There's no way he stays in prison during the final arc.

And finally the Kuzan scene,,

rightfully the most praised section and probably my favorite part of the episode too. According to his tweet, Henry Thurlow animated the Kuzan scene traditionally on paper. Let's give Toei credit where it's due; they let their animators take time, be creative and love their work. Otherwise we wouldn't get scenes like this.

And that's it! The first (and the last?) time we see Heart pirates in proper action. Ch. 1081 is only ~17 chapters away. Hopefully we'll see it animated around the middle of this year. Hopefully Law's current condition in the manga is updated by then, otherwise it'll be very painful.

Twice already. Petition to let Pandaman become an official member of heart pirates.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #marshall d. teach #one piece blackbeard #fem law #one piece meta #one piece anime #one piece manga spoiler #one piece episode 1093 #kamiya hiroshi #mine #heart pirates #blackbeard pirates #pandaman #kuzan

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anintrovertedechoe · 2 years ago

Note

QUESTION QUESTION QUESTION

what nicknames / terms of endearment do you think the brothers would call MC ?

to all the people who sent in prompt requests im so sorry it’s the illness i swear-

BUT ANYWAYS

Pet Names the Brothers Call MC

Lucifer

heart’s dearest

okay so i read this in a fic once and it’s a guilty pleasure of mine now i absolutely adore this pet name and fully believe Luce would call you this it’s canon guys there’s no room for objection

flower

you bloom in his presence and he will nourish your growth with everything he has to make sure you never wither away

darling

this one i think would be for either softer moments OR when he’s fed up with you and he’s like ‘darling, please get Cerberus off of you, he’s over 400 pounds it’s not safe for you to let him sit on you like that’ and ur jus like ‘hehe ouppy’

honorable mentions: dear/dearest, precious, dove, angel (teehee)

Mammon

treasure

cmon guys we all know that he would call you this it’s basically canon I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN RAHHH 🗣️🗣️‼️ he’s so sweet my baby mwah mwah. I can’t see him calling you jewel or ruby or anything like that it’s too formal for him. maybe diamond ??

birdie

yk how crows are his familiars? yeah. plus whenever he looks at you he feels his heart soar and he thinks not even the sky is the limit when it comes to the two of you. you just make him so happy bro :(

sweetheart

once again i think this could be used for softer or sadder moments BUT also when he’s like being silly or cheeky w you hes so babygirl coded he so meow

honorable mentions: darlin’, babe/baby, angel (he would also call you this but it’s less intense and more casual), human

cmon u thought I would forget? ur always gna be his human :)

Leviathan

let’s be so fr he would be so HESITANT to call you anything he’s so cringefail (affectionate) but let’s see hmm

player two

he wouldn’t be like ‘my player two :)’ but he would call you that affectionately while talking to you he’s a gamer he can’t help it !! ur always by his side, the best teammate he cld ask for :(

star

he calls you star whenever he’s like super excited like if you defeat a really hard level for him or together WITH him it’s really cute but he gets all embarrassed afterwards dbsjskjebe

sunshine

okay so ik what y’all are thinking, no way mans has the guts to call you this BUT HEAR ME OUT. he’s feeling vulnerable and sad and youre like the sun for him! he (lizard style) feels like he can bask in your warmth and you brighten his days. you’re comforting him while he’s resting his head on your shoulder and after a while he feels better, offering a shy smile and a, “thanks, sunshine.”

honorable mentions: henry, mana (u recharge him !!), oyster (he tried calling you pearl once but blurted out oyster instead. he doesn’t call you this but you refuse to let it go and he hates it #loserboy(affectionate))

Satan

kitten IM KIDDING IM KIDDING

my heart

cmon have you never heard his song ‘read my heart’ ??? you taught him how to love; you have such a tight grip on his heart that it might as well be yours by now

beautiful / gorgeous

this man is so smooth sometimes WITHOUT EVEN TRYING he genuinely finds you breathtaking he’s not even trying to be slick this is a genuine nickname for you,,,making kissy faces at him rn.

love / lovely / my love

he loves you send tweet. but he’s honestly so sweet and genuine about it. he has this precious small little smile on whenever he calls you it in public and he looks so boyish and sweet how can you not fall for him??? he left you with no choice

honorable mentions: my light, my fire, ladybird (regardless of gender)

Asmodeus

precious

you’re genuinely precious to him. this man adores you with every fiber of his being. you jus mean ??? everything to him???

cutie / cutiepie

ur just so adorable to him like LOOK AT THIS LITTLE HUMAN ??? adorable. when he’s feeling especially overwhelmed by you he pulls out the cutiepie and pinches your cheeks and sometimes it kinda hurts :(( dw tho he’ll treat you to an exclusive all inclusive asmo night just for the two of you if you let him know, so…no complaints here!

jewel

he may have been the jewel of the heavens but you’re by far the most precious jewel he has come across. he treats you like you’re priceless—only makes sense that the name fits the action.

honorable mentions: darling, sweetheart/sweetie, honey, lovely

Beelzebub

sweets

okay so he loves food but he doesn’t wanna call you something that’s OBVIOUSLY food related because he loves you in a different way he loves food yk??? and he wants you to know he sees you as more than that. so he calls you sweets because just thinking about you makes him feel like sugar’s melting softly on his tongue

flame

spoilers! yk the life candle incident thing? yeah. you basically are his life force with what you did. he’ll never forget that. you are his driving force, his life, his flame <3

bear

IT SOUNDS SO WEIRD AT FIRST but just listen okay 😭 it started off as teddy bear when he first started to try and come up with pet names for you but he didn’t like how that made you sound because yeah you may be human but you are the strongest being he has ever had the honor of meeting ?? you make him feel so capable and strong but the fact that you also have his back makes him feel…strange (he has butterflies guys)

honorable mentions: buzz (bees make honey plus based off a hc of what MC calls the boys), baby, fire

(i had such a hard time with him guys 😭)

Belphegor

bug / lovebug

LISTEN. THIS BITCH IS SO ANNOYING. (affectionate) he started calling you bug and you didn’t know where it came from and so you asked and he said ‘like a bedbug. bc ur annoying.’ he’s so mean i hate him :((( but he’s always been a bit of a brat what can u expect…definitely not him adding love to it. he called you lovebug when your guard was down and when you looked at him in shock the absolute cutest most sweet smile took over his face??? this is not fair cmon

bip / bips / bippy

it started as ‘personal body pillow’ bc belph is an entitled little mf and eventually got shortened to ‘bp’ pronounced ‘bip’ and then it evolved. complain all you want but you enable him by letting him use you as a personal pillow man. hes so cute when he shuts his mouth tho you can’t help it :((

bunny

he thinks its a cute nickname send tweet. but in all honestly belphie is sweet when he wants to be and he thinks ur super cute ! he usually calls you bunny when he’s teasing you but the name will slip out in an occasional moment of vulnerability <3

honorable mentions: babe, mommy (gn), buttercup, the first initial of your name

hopefully ygs like this i started struggling after a while 😭

parts of these come from bits of canon from my own inner world but honestly the boys all love you and are really sweet so ☹️🫶

beel and belphie were especially hard because i really think they would mostly just use variations of your name but I TRIED MY BEST HOPEFULLY IT WAS TO UR SATISFACTION

send an ask over if you want me to do the dateables or alternatively, what MC/you call the brothers!

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eunchancorner · 2 months ago

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Gossip Hour (Blended AU)

I was so tempted to name this The Family Forged In Bureaucracy but that felt too grim for this one

Anygay have some sticks being silly

Sven didn’t always feel the best about his position in the Toppat Clan. After Henry had taken over and brought Ellie onto the scene, he was certainly glad to be farther away from that dreaded leadership position, even if he did think Reginald was a better leader. However, he’d never been demoted from his position as Head of Financing, possibly due to his already established skills in the field. He was comfortable there, he knew he was, but sometimes it was draining, staying up all night doing nothing but filling out and reorganizing paperwork, only for half of it to never go through. He still had stacks of aircraft manuals he’d inspected that Mr. MacBeth was supposed to deliver to Charles, the Head of the Toppat Aerial Assault Unit, weeks ago.

Nevertheless, his higher-up position still granted him special privileges in the organization. He was able to be closer to his friends and quickly found himself making new ones, plus it was nice to still be so close to the men who had essentially raised him and his sister. Being able to hang out with Burt was nice, too, not to mention it gave him a reasonable excuse to keep out of heists, as he wasn’t that good with combat.

But the best part, undeniably, was the weekly ‘Council Meetings’.

Of course, the first half was typically boring. Going over expenses, planning heists, making sure everyone was up-to-date on their duties, even if they ended up completely neglecting them, everything expected from a group of professionals. But that was the best part; there was only one professional in the room, and after he left, the fun part of the meeting began.

Fortunately, this was one of those moments.

“Well, chief, if that’s the meeting, then I suppose I should get back to work. I don’t trust that idiot apprentice you assigned me to do inventory without blowing a hole in the armory, but someone has to get it done,” Mr. MacBeth, Head of Munitions Management said as he stood from his chair between Ellie, the Right Hand Lady, and Reginald, the former Toppat leader.

“Alright, MacBeth. I still have other things I need to address with the others, but we’ll see you around the station,” Henry said, “And if you keep having so much issue with that ‘idiot apprentice’, I’ll just assign you another. You’re getting up there in years, someone’s going to have to take over when you have to retire.”

“Yeah, yeah…” the older man grumbled. “I’ll see you all later.”

As the door shut behind him, all the carefully crafted expressions of professionalism fell away with a chorus of groans.

“Being a leader is so boring,” Henry complained, earning a chuckle from Reginald.

“Now you understand how I felt for those few years,” the brunette remarked, leaning against his Right Hand Man. “But now, we come to everyone’s favorite part of the meeting; gossip hour!”

“The first thing I want to know,” Sven chimed in, shoving away his small stack of papers, “Ellie, have you talked to The Witch about your feelings yet? You have to eventually!”

The redhead groaned again, pulling her lilac hat down to cover her face.

“Not yet… I just… What if she doesn’t like me? I mean, I haven’t really been the most open person around her…” she admitted.

“What? Ellie, you’re like, her number one helper! You two spend so much time together, I’d be surprised if she didn’t like you at least a little,” Charles exclaimed.

“Ellie, take it from me. You’ll never know if she likes you if you don’t actually ask. There’s no for sure way to know if someone likes you. I used to think Reginald thought I was too closed off before I asked him out on our first date, and, well, look where that got us,” Right Hand Man added, holding up his hand, which was linked with Reginald’s, showing off his wedding ring. The shorter man smiled up at his husband before adding his own opinion.

“We’re not saying it’s guaranteed, but it’s worth a try.”

“Why are all of you so interested in my love life, anyway?” Ellie demanded, looking around the table at the others with a huff.

“Because you’re the only one here who hasn’t established their feelings for the person they’re interested in,” Burt deadpanned. “Reginald and Right Hand Man are married, Henry has made Charles well aware of how he feels, and me and Sven decided we don’t need a label on our relationship. But you still haven’t done anything about your massive crush.”

“I…” she tried to argue before trailing off. Burt was right and they all knew it.

“... Fuck you,” she finally told him after a bit of thinking.

“Y’know, speaking of Reggie and RHM, you two have an anniversary coming up, don’t you?” Henry shifted the topic before Ellie got angrier.

“Oh, yes, our 5th wedding anniversary! I’m so excited!” Reginald exclaimed, clutching his husband’s hand tighter. “We’ve been making plans all month, you know! Speaking of which, Sven, did you and Earrings get those dinner invitations? It would be lovely to be able to spend time with you two again, instead of you being holed up in your room all day, and your sister out on heists all the time. We rarely get to see you two anymore!”

“Don’t worry,” the blonde chuckled, “We got them. Actually, I was wondering if Burt could come along. I know it’s your anniversary, but he’s practically part of the family now.”

“Oh, of course, of course! It would be nice to finally get to know you, Burt, outside of just your title and the fact that you’re often so oddly calm.”

“I guess it’d be cool to get to know you guys, too, other than I used to take orders from you,” the Head of Communications replied, shrugging slightly.

“Wonderful! And, of course, after dinner, me and Righty will have our alone time. We’ve already booked some time in the stargazing room, isn’t that right, dear?”

“Yeah,” the redheaded cyborg agreed, “Plus we decided we’ll bring some music in there. Maybe dance a little. It’s been a long time since we’ve actually danced outside of our room…”

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” Ellie jabbed playfully, raising a brow at him and earning a small huff.

“Hey, I like to be intimidating, alright? If that means not letting people see me and Reg dance, then that’s what it means. The more people are scared of me, the less they’ll try to mess with him.”

Reginald let out a sigh, filled with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

“Dear, I love that you want to protect me, but if anyone here was plotting to kill me, they’d have done it by now,” the brunette assured him.

“I mean, we have new Toppats joining all the ti-”

“Do not encourage him,” Sven interrupted Charles with the warning.

“Right, right. Anything else we need to talk about, here?” the cyborg pilot conceded.

“Well, Charles, what I wanna know is, did you like the gifts I got you?” Henry asked, leaning over to Charles with a hopeful smile. The young cyborg sighed with a smile of his own.

“Do you mean the roses, the chocolates, or the A-10 Warthog?”

“All three!”

“Well, the chocolates were pretty good, I’ll give you that. And the Warthog… Ohh, how I’ve dreamed of having one ever since I saw the demonstration when I joined the military way back when,” he sighed dreamily, before his eye lit up as he began to ramble. “Did you guys know that the GAU 8/A Avenger, the gun on the Warthog, is not only so big that they have to build the plane around the gun, but is so powerful that if you fire it for too long, the plane will actually fall out of the sky due to lack of thrust! It’s also made by General Electric, the same company that made most of the day-to-day appliances on the station! Capitalism's crazy, huh?”

“Mhm…” Henry practically swooned, staring at Charles with the most in-love expression that made Sven sure he wasn’t actually listening to him ramble, but was just listening to his voice.

“As for the flowers… I’m not actually that into roses,” the pilot admitted, watching with an amused smile as Henry’s expression morphed from one of adoration to one of confusion.

“Wh… Why did no one tell me?” the Toppat leader asked, looking around the table at his council, almost sounding betrayed.

“Henry, you hijacked a military aircraft for this man, no one was thinking about the damn flowers!” Ellie pointed out.

“And I made it clear I wanted all of my gifts to be perfect! And you,” Henry pointed to Reginald, “You specifically said ‘Get him roses, they’re the universal flower of love, he’ll love them’, did you not?”

“How was I supposed to know he didn’t really like them!?” the brunette defended.

“Henry, Henry, it’s not a big deal!” the pilot laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know what you meant by them, the same thing you mean by every gift you get me. And my reply is the same as every time; Maybe one day, but not today. Okay?”

“Aww, okay…” the leader murmured, disappointed.

“Well, after Henry’s fruitless attempts at charming Charles once again, I think we can draw this meeting to a close, agreed?” Sven asked the others, earning nods and ‘Mhms’ around the table.

“Good, it’s starting to get depressing watching Henry get shot down every meeting,” Burt almost groaned.

“I suppose, as long as Charles, Ellie, Reginald, RHM and I are still on for Saturday?” Henry asked, looking around the table. “I still think that reserve in West Mesa is worth the hit, and since it’s out in the middle of nowhere, bombing should be a safe option.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a good heist,” Ellie replied with a short nod.

“I am always down to bomb something,” Charles added.

“And I can help with the guards,” Reginald pointed out.

“I’ll handle the heavy lifting. Burt, you’ll be on comms, right?” Right Hand Man turned to the other.

“Me and Sven will, yeah. I don’t want him to be left out,” the Head of Communications assured him.

“Alright, then with that, I’ll see you all around the station,” Henry bade as he stood, and each Toppat filed out of the meeting room, walking off to handle their own things. Burt walked with Sven back to his room, watching the blonde gather up the manuals to deliver to Charles.

“Need some help?” he asked, earning a grateful nod.

“Yes, please, there’s so many…”

Sven may not have been fond of his job in the Toppat Clan, but sometimes, having people to talk to and help him made everything a little bit more worth it.

#eun writes #thsc #the henry stickmin collection #charles calvin #henry stickmin #ellie rose #reginald copperbottom #right hand man #burt curtis #sven svensson #the henry stickmin au #blended au #also mr. macbeth mention #he's in there #briefly

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rpfofficial · 1 year ago

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listen its about how hawkeye, along with the majority of the people at the mash, were completely out of place and not supposed to be there because the war wasn't supposed to be there and the USA wasn't supposed to be there but they didn't have a choice and to cope with the horrors and the work and the blood hawkeye had to lean on Trapper the closest living thing to him both physically and emotionally and he got lucky because trapper made it easy! he was easy! they were on the same wavelength: they hated the army, they hated the war, they were devoted to keeping people alive, and they made each other laugh and finished each other's sentences and were relaxed about sex and alcohol and pranks and everything else that was keeping them sane and entertained. trapper was literally the dog they put in with the cheetahs to stop them from going crazy in captivity and hawkeye was the cheetah threatening to go crazy in captivity. they were in sync and trapper was the sturdy one. AND THEN TRAPPER LEFT WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE. enter bj stage left who is totally out of his depths in way over his head thrown into this bullshit and has to room with hawkeye "is it the war that stinks or is it me" pierce who, without even thinking about it, adopts bj as his new best friend and takes it upon himself to corrupt bj and initiate him in a way that suits hawkeye and Lucky For Him bj is also silly and doesn't wanna be here and is up for a good laugh BUT. PLOT TWIST. He is NOT sturdy or particularly reliable or on the same level of relaxed as trapper was! and hawkeye is all wound up by this point Henry is dead trapper is gone there's no getting out of this war and bj comes and shakes up the status quo and suddenly instead of a dog to calm down the cheetah they sent in another worse more scared dog who hasn't gone crazy yet but is just as susceptible to going crazy as the cheetah and now they're chasing each other's tails and they're biting each other out of love or maybe malice or maybe frustration and sometimes they're cuddled up and sometimes they're on opposite ends of the enclosure not talking to each other. but every time bj needs comfort he goes to hawkeye. and every time hawkeye needs comfort he goes somewhere else because that's just one of the things bj cant offer him and its like this. Hawkeye got used to the dog and the dog was his best friend. then they took the dog away from him and he was lonely so when they gave him a new friend he didn't mind that it was a different dog. but this new dog doesn't understand the enclosure and latches onto the cheetah as hard as the cheetah latches onto him. but the cheetah has expectations that the dog isn't aware of so when these expectations fall through the cheetah changes tact but the dog holds on because the dog has no other choice no other option no prior experience to compare this all to and as far as he's concerned the cheetah is the most important thing in the world at the moment because the world doesn't exist beyond the enclosure so he's just gotta sit this out and hold onto the cheetah until he's let out of the enclosure and can go back to his normal beautiful happy life away from the enclosure but uh oh the cheetah is really easy to get on with the dog really loves the cheetah the dog is maybe holding onto the cheetah a bit too hard. so it goes from the old dog being there to stop the cheetah from going crazy, to the new dog and the cheetah driving each other crazy all the time except the new dog thinks this is all there is to it and is just delighted to have a friend and the cheetah is just desperate for company and loves any old dog they put in front of him and needs the dog so much but can't help but feel the claws a bit too tight and why can't they just let him out of the enclosure he's been in the enclosure so long they should just let him out. Don't you see.

#mash

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kathleenkatmary · 4 months ago

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Screwball September: Ratings, Reviews, and Rankings

I wanted to watch so much more this year than I did. I was really hoping to fit in at least a few more that I've never seen or hadn't seen in awhile. But that just didn't happen.

View the list on letterboxd

01. My Man Godfrey (Gregory LaCava, 1936) - 5/5

In my opinion, the greatest screwball comedy of all time, and with Carole Lombard's greatest performance. She remains perhaps the greatest comedic actress of all time, and all of the reasons why are perfectly apparent in My Man Godfrey. Her timing was impeccable, she wasn't afraid to look silly or ridiculous, and she had an innate understanding of when to go big and when to keep things a bit more subtle.

She and William Powell were also such a great pairing. They actually made a few films together, and we briefly married in the early 1930s. It's a bummer the movies they made together during the pre-code era aren't better known, but it's an even bigger bummer that this was the only screwball comedy they made together. Both are absolute legends when it comes to screwball comedy, so it really is just such a shame that they didn't make more together. Powell's more lowkey demeanor was such a perfect fit for the archetypical screwball leading lady that was Carole Lombard. That contrast lends itself to fantastic comedy.

The rest of the cast is amazing, too. I love Alice Brady as the flighty mother type, and she's probably at her best here. It's also one of the best Gail Patrick performances. She's such an awful person, and she really captures that sort of high class, unrepentant shittiness. Eugene Pallette played a lot of befuddled, frustrated father types, and this is one of the best roles of that type. He gets to be a sort of straight man played against his family, but since Powell is the movie's real straight man, he still has plenty of screwball moments to shine. Jean Dixon is pitch perfect as the seen-it-all maid, hitting a note that fits perfectly between the batty insanity of the Bullock family and Godfrey's more reserved world weariness. And of course there's Mischa Auer as Mrs. Bullock's 'protege', a ridiculous man who's made all the more hilarious by the way that Auer plays it kind of straight.

The script is perfect. It's just so packed full of jokes that you really need to watch it more than once to catch them all. And the characters really are so well written. I know some people struggle a bit with a lot of screwball comedies (and I admit, I do to), because for all the commentary on the wealth gap and how completely out of touch the rich are, the almost always end with the rich people finding better meaning for their lives, or understanding the plight of the poor, or the important of their family, whatever, without any suggestion ever being made that they maybe shouldn't have all that wealth when so many people were starving, and the poor main character usually ends up achieving wealth. That issue is still present in My Man Godfrey, but the writing for all of the characters does a really good job at making the ones that are meant to be likeable likeable, and giving the ones that really deserve it a very real comeuppance that humbles them. So I think it at least makes the ending feel consistent with the character writing at the very least. And it's an issue I never want to specifically hold against any individual movie, as it's a genre-wide problem, unless the writing really falls down at justifying it in any way.

02. The Lady Eve (Preston Sturges, 1941) - 5/5

Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda are one of the most underrated screwball pairings, and really just screen pairings, ever. It's a shame they only made three films together (and that one of them is the pretty lackluster You Belong to Me). Both The Lady Eve and The Mad Miss Manton are screwball classics, and so much of what makes both movies work is the insane chemistry between Stanwyck and Fonda, as well as how good they both are at screwball comedy.

The Lady Eve has one of the sexiest film scenes to be made during this era, when the Production Code was probably being the most strictly enforced. The scene with Stanwyck and Fonda in her room, when she's on the bed and he's on the floor next to her and she's just kind of got her arms wrapped around his neck. Compared to what we get today this set up probably seems wildly tame, but Preston Sturges, along with Fonda and particularly Stanwyck, create such an amazing atmosphere for the scene. So much of that does come from the chemistry between the actors, but Stanwyck's performance in this scene is essential to just how sexy it manages to be. Add to that the way Sturges lit and framed the scenes, and it all comes across as being so intimate and sensual. But thanks to Fonda's performance, it's still perfectly screwball.

While The Lady Eve does dig into topics with some depth to them, particularly ideas of perception and how our pre-conceived notions of what's 'good' or 'respectable' can lead us to treat people in ways they don't deserve, the way it does that is so much fun. Stanwyck just feels like she was having such a good time. She and Fonda make such a good pair in this movie because they each bring something to the comedy. Stanwyck brings her incredible line delivery, her ability to make the character very much the cunning criminal she is while also having an unmistakable classiness to her, even when she's not posing as a member of the British aristocracy. Really, it's the fact that you can feel that class coming from her even in the beginning that makes her imitation of a British lady being so convincing so, well, convincing. The whip smart, clever wit of the screwball comedy comes from her, while Fonda brings a really impressive skill for physical comedy. And it's not just the bigger bits of physical comedy, like the pratfalls. It's his entire physicality. So much of Fonda's performance here IS physical. You can feel every bit of his nervousness, his anxiety, in the way he holds his body. It adds so much to the comedy of the movie.

It really is interesting to look at the things they each bring to this movie as a pairing, because when you look at their other stellar screwball comedy The Mad Miss Manton, their dynamic is extremely different and they bring very different things to those roles than they do here. It just makes it even more of a bummer that they made so few films together because clearly their chemistry was ridiculously versatile and adaptable.

This is simply one of the best romantic comedies and screwball comedies of all time. If you haven't see in it, you must.

03. Mr. and Mrs. Smith (Alfred Hitchcock, 1941) - 5/5

Hitchcock's only straight-up comedy is vastly, painfully underrated. The whole thing feels like an exploration on subverting the Production Code. The Code prohibited all kinds of things from the America screen. Anything that might have been too sexual was an automatic no go. Subjects like adultery and premarital or extramarital sex were off the table for years. A lot of writers and filmmakers started to get creative in trying to find ways to slip prohibited topics past the censors, and I think Mr. and Mrs. Smith is one of the funniest and most elegant attempts of subverting the code.

Basically, Carole Lombard and Robert Montgomery are married. But kind of not really because they find out that thanks to some bureaucratic, clerical messiness involving the place where they were married, their marriage isn't valid. Though only sort of because it's really just a clerical thing. But when Lombard finds out and learns that her husband has already been informed, she's expecting the excitement of their younger years and something like a romantic re-proposal. Montgomery, on the other hand, who doesn't know that his wife has been informed, is hoping to recapture some of the excitement of his unmarried years by taking Lombard to bed without remarrying her. She takes exception, leaves him, starts up a thing with his best friend, while he wallows in misery, has bad dating experiences, and tries to win his wife back.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith is quite audacious in the way it approaches its subversions of the Code. It definitely seems to take an Air Bud approach to the whole thing, getting around certain rules and restrictions based on the idea that if there isn't a rule specifically saying they can't do it, it's fair game. The script is very blatant in the way it not only has Montgomery and Lombard locked together in their bedroom in the morning, but also shows them in bed together. And Hitchcock's shooting of the scene takes great care to show the physical connection between them as they lay in bed together in each other's arms. That physical aspect of their relationship is shown again in the next scene, as Lombard slides her feet up the bottom of Montgomery's pant legs, until he says something to upset her.

That physicality is extremely important. That physical/sexual aspect of the relationship has to be clear, because that physical closeness has to be in your mind when you find out that they're kind of not really married. Following up the scenes that demonstrate that aspect of their relationship with the scenes where they find out they're not married highlights the first subversion of the code: This is essentially a story about a couple that had been engaging in premarital sex for years. This is only underlined by the fact that Montgomery is so excited by the idea of having sex with her before fixing the error and that Lombard is so horrified.

But they have to still mostly technically be married in order for this to get a pass from the Code office. So then they use that fact, too, to further subvert the code. After Montgomery's attempt, Lombard leave him, and quickly takes up with his best friend and partner. Which means, since their marriage issue is really just a technicality, we've got one of the main characters of the movie committing adultery.

And those really are just the most prevalent ways in which the movie lays with the Code in order to subvert it.

The movie, both in the ways it subverts the code and more specific aspects of it, really is about exploring gender roles, the way those roles might lead to certain behaviors being assigned within a marriage, the way certain attitudes that might be common with on gender or the other can impact a marriage, and how those kinds of things can impact the way a man and a woman might see each other. But rather than adhere to those more traditional ideas about what a husband is and what a wife is, both the husband and the wife turn out to be pretty awful people, and perfect for each other in that awfulness. This isn't an uncommon ending in remarriage comedies, but I think Mr. and Mrs. Smith is easily one of the best at really highlighting and even reveling in that awfulness, and really developing it in an interesting way.

This movie gets dismissed as a Hitchcock piece because the general idea seems to be that there's not much Hitchcock in it, that it's 100% about the script and that there's none of Hitch's touch, that his voice was not an important part of making the movie what it is. I don't think that's true. Sure, Hitchcock is mostly associated with suspense, but his films were more than that. There were some major themes that Hitch explores in most of his movies. Relationships between men and woman, the ways in which they're compatible and the many, many ways in which they're incompatible, as well as all the reasons they're drawn together. That is Mr. and Mrs. Smith all over.

When it's needed, their relationship, particularly their physical connection, is filmed with a similar softness and sensuality as some of his other films from this era. He might not be building suspense, but this movie is a series of situations where things like tension and awkwardness are made to build, and build, and build. And just as Hitch is a master at building suspense, he's able to build the tension and the awkwardness, sometimes to almost unbearable levels.

Lombard and Montgomery deserve so much praise. Montgomery is so funny. He just slides into the role so well, becoming more and more funny the more his character unravels. Lombard is, of course, masterful. She's one of the funniest women that's ever lived, and she's able to make her character likeable even as she's behaving in endlessly frustrating ways. They have great chemistry, and are and excellent comic pair, bouncing off of each other so well. Sadly, they'd never get a chance to make another movie together as Lombard died the next year.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith is one of Hitchcock's masterworks, and it deserves to be far better loved than it is.

04. The Mad Miss Manton (Leigh Jason, 1938) - 5/5

I love this movie so much. It might be my favorite screwball mystery. These screwball mysteries almost always have a love story happening along side the mystery, but how well that love story is developed and integrated into the story can vary wildly. I think The Mad Miss Manton manages the perfect formula for that.

A big part of that does come from the fact that Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda re the leads. They're one of the best screen pairings of all time who, sadly, did not make as many movies as they should have together. They had crazy chemistry, and it was pretty adaptable. Their best remembered pairing is probably The Lady Eve, and they are AMAZING there. But I think the fact that their characters - and their relationship - in The Mad Miss Manton are so different from those in The Lady Eve really does show how incredibly and malleable their chemistry was.

But it's not just Stanwyck and Fonda that make it work. The script is really good. The trajectory of the relationship makes sense, and the way their feelings are developed and revealed thanks to specific points of the plot is what makes it all work together so well.

The mystery itself is also pretty good, which is something that can sometimes be an issue with screwball mysteries. It's intriguing enough to keep the viewer's attention on it, but it's not so overwhelming that scene that veer away from the mystery break up the momentum. And the resolution makes sense and it's easy to put the pieces together to understand how and why things went down.

There's so much else I could say about The Mad Miss Manton. In addition to its leads, it has a ridiculously good ensemble, all of whom get a chance to shine. There are some romantic scenes between Fonda and Stanwyck that have such an warm and intimate atmosphere. There are so many funny jokes. This is just such a gem of a movie, and it deserves to be as loved and revered as something like The Thin Man.

05. Carefree (Mark Sandrich, 1938) - 5/5

I LOVE Carefree. It's one of my very favorite Astaire/Rogers movies, and I think one of their most underrated. It has a sort of unique feel to it - not so much that it feels wildly different to the rest of their movies, just enough that it feels a bit refreshing - because, I think, Fred doesn't play a dancer in this one. He plays a psychiatrist, and that alone really does kind of shift the dynamic between his and Ginger's characters. It makes the plot have a little more going on than a lot their movies.

In my opinion, most of Fred and Ginger's movies do have distinct /feel/ to them thanks to their simplicity, which I think is a good thing most of the time. (and this is referring to the movies where they're the leads. Stuff like Follow the Fleet and Roberta, while similar, are kind of a different matter.) Even as there are often cases of mistaken identity leading to confusion, or Fred and Ginger being sort of forced together reluctantly (at least on her part), the stories usually end up being pretty simple and streamlined, and their relationship dynamics tend to be pretty similar in these situations.

Carefree, on the other hand, actually feels more like a romantic comedy of the era. Yes, there are some great songs and dances (I think Change Partners is one of the best songs from any of their movies, and The Yam is one of their most fun dances), but the movie is a lot less dependent on the musical numbers than their other movies. There's just more to this story, where Fred is a psychiatrist who agrees to treat his friend's fiancee, who seems to be struggling with the relationship and committing, and they fall in love. It allows for more to happen with the relationships in the movie outside of Fred and Ginger (Tony and Amanda, in the film), as they both have strong emotional ties to Stephen (Ralph Bellamy) and their relationship has an impact on that, and all of this in a way that you don't really see in other Fred and Ginger movie. It also ends up making Fred and Ginger's relationship so much more complex and interesting. It all makes for something that feels quite unique among all of Fred and Ginger's movies together.

I also think it deserve praise specifically for Ginger Rogers. This is easily her best performance out of any of their movies. I think at least some of that has to do with how much she's actually given to do, and I think that's also at least somewhat another thing that sets the movie apart. Not to say that Ginger has nothing to do in the other movies, but there's a lot more to her character and story here. I do think this is true of Fred as well, but I feel like, generally speaking, the way the characters, stories, and relationships are usually written in their films Fred just has more to do and is often centered a bit more. Carefree really takes Ginger's skills as both a comedic AND dramatic actress and leans into them. I think it's probably one of her top 5 best performances.

Of course, none of this is to say that all of the other movies that do have more simple storylines aren't good movies. Carefree isn't even my #1 Fred and Ginger movie. I still rank Swing Time and Roberta ahead of it, and I'd say it's tied with Top Hat for my #3. But it is refreshing to have something so different in their collection of movies.

06. Ruggles of Red Gap (Leo McCarey, 1935) - 5/5

One of Charles Laughton's best performances, if not his very best. He plays everything so understated, which ends up working brilliantly both comedically and emotionally. The cast around him helps to bolster his performance with their wonderfully over the top and boisterous performances. Taken all together they provide such a perfect balance to Laughton's more subdued presence, and that makes for great comedy on both sides.

Ultimately, Ruggles of Red Gap is about a changing world and how a person can find their place among those changes. This movie came out smack dab in the middle of the Great Depression, and even though it takes place around the turn of the 20th century, the influence of the Depression can be felt all over it. Ruggles moving from the world of the upper class in Europe to the American West mirrors, in a way, the way the economic crash had upended so many people's place in the social structure. Ruggles is the product of a world of tradition. His family had been in service to the family of his original master (played by Roland Young, who himself gives a really lovely performance that's kind of muted and even naturalistic in a way that's quite effective) and his devotion is born of that tradition and expectation. It's not until he travels to the new world with a new master whose behavior and manners are completely foreign to him that he starts to learn who he might actually be when allowed and even encouraged to follow his own path rather than serving someone else's. And like so many screwball comedies of the era, it's also a pretty scathing takedown of the pretentious arrogance that can come with wealth. Ruggles of Red Gap really is a movie made for Depression times, examining the freedom that could exist in breaking free from the traditional social structure and the idea that wealth is not by any means the thing that determines a person's value.

It's also funny as hell, so it's pretty much just firing on all cylinders.

07. Four's a Crowd (Michael Curtiz, 1938) - 5/5

I am so deeply fond of Four's a Crowd. So often with classic romantic comedies, even screwballs, the story would present a love triangle, or sometimes love square, but there would never be any question of who was going to end up with whom. Even if it's not blatantly clear from the writing, the fact that there are two megastars as the leads, with the other sides of the triangle or square played by much lesser known stars usually serves as a good enough hint of how things are going to play out.

That is not the case with Four's a Crowd. Right down to the very ending where we get a double wedding, it really does feel like a toss up when it comes to who's going to marry who. And while a good chunk of that is because Rosalind Russell, Olivia DeHavilland, and Errol Flynn were at roughly similar levels of fame, the biggest reasons it really works is (1) the script does such a good job of making the connections between the characters and the reasons they might be attracted to each other or see each other as viable options solid and easy to grasp, (2) there amazing chemistry going on between literally every possible pairing of these four people, and (3) the whole story and so much of what happens is just chaotic and frantic in the best way. It really does make it so that any combination of the characters feels viable in the end.

I really do think this is one of the most flat out fun screwball romances. It never once takes itself too seriously, the stakes established are relatively low, so the chaotic nature of the story and pacing feels fun and silly rather than stressful and nail-biting.

08. Wise Girl (Leigh Jason, 1937) - 5/5

Wise Girl is a seriously underrated screwball romance. Miriam Hopkins actually made a number of screwball comedies, but unfortunately she isn't really remembered much for them. And that's a shame, because she was ridiculously good in comedies. She could pull off a sort of natural sophisticated high society type, and then make that type perfect for screwball comedy by making her just a /bit/ ridiculous. I think that's best on display in Wise Girl.

I remember being surprised the first time I watched this by how good she and Ray Milland are together. I knew that Milland could handle comedy from movies like The Major and the Minor, but I wasn't expecting him to have so much chemistry with Hopkins. It's a typical opposites clash and then attract screwball romance, with Hopkins as the judgmental rich girl, looking down on the community of bohemians Milland lives in, and Milland as the judgmental artist, looking down on the conspicuous wealth and out of touchness of the the wealthy class of which Hopkins is a part. They both fill those roles really well, and it makes their chemistry work beautifully.

One of the things that I think is really special about Wise Girl is how much it creates this really great world with the bohemian community Milland lives in, and that Hopkins comes to live in, undercover as a poor artist. Most of the movie takes place in the Greenwich Village community, and it's imbued with such a sense of place that it really does feel like becoming a part of that community when you watch it. The set design is really great and goes a long way toward how successful this is, but it's also the supporting characters, the inhabitants of this world, that really make sit feel real. They're all so specifically and clearly drawn, and it doesn't take long to really understand who most of them are, and what their relationships to each other are. Which goes such a long way in making this community feel like a living, breathing thing.

This is such a good, underseen movie. If you get the chance to see it, you must.

09. By Candlelight (James Whale, 1933) - 4/5

James Whale is really not remembered for comedy at all, but he actually made a few really great comedies in the 1930s, By Candlelight being one of them. It's an extremely light and frothy romantic screwball comedy starring Paul Lukas and Elissa Landi. Lukas himself isn't particularly remembered for comedy, either, and while I do think his dramatic performances are the ones from his filmography that really stand out, he's quite good here. He seemed to understand just how light and fun the material was and matched his performance to it. Landi is also a lot of fun. I think her performance probably ends up being the most comedic in the movie, and she was really willing to do things that were pretty unflattering, but very funny.

Nils Asther is, IMO, the real treat here. He'd been a pretty big leading man in the late 1920s and early 1930s, particularly in roles where the character was "exotic" or otherwise foreign, by the time the pre-code era was starting to wind down in 1933-1934 his star was already dimming. So he's in a supporting role here, but it's a great role. He's Lukas's boss, who is a prince and a womanizer, but probably also the most likeable character in the movie. There's a clear affection between Asther and Lukas's characters, and it's kind of sweet to see the lengths Asther's character will go to in order to help Lukas's out. The character is really charming, but there's obviously a big heart there, and Asther really captures that.

But what makes the movie really work so well is the chemistry between Lukas and Landi. Because of the premise, both characters could easily end up feeling unlikeable, and the relationship between them would then be a pretty hard sell. But thanks to their performances and how much chemistry there is between them, it just works.

By Candlelight is a real treat of the late-pre code era, and one of the most underappreciated screwball comedies.

10. Make a Million (Lewis D. Collins, 1935) - 2.5/5

Okay, I just have to start by saying that if the headline 'Radical Professor Named in Charges by Girl Student" was in a paper today it would almost certainly be a very different type of story.

Make a Million is actually really interesting, especially for something from the 1930s. It as pretty common for screwball comedies to take the wealthy class down a notch or two by poking fun at the ridiculousness of wealth and how out of touch it makes people, but they're usually still quite light on their politics. Make a Million is pretty different in the way that it blatantly discusses political ideas surrounding wealth that were common at the time (and that are still sadly quite relevant). Most people think about the 'Red Scare' and the behavior and ideas of McCarthyism as being pretty firmly set in the 1940s and 1950s, but paranoia surrounding communism, particularly from those in charge and in particularly privileged positions, started way further back than that. And it was pretty prevalent in the 1930s, as the Depression had led to a lot of people wondering if socialism wouldn't be a better way.

Make a Million, for all its faults (and there are plenty), does a really good job of capturing that conflict and the downright ridiculous response those in power had to socialist ideas, and how quickly people in power would jump to and push absurd conclusions to bolster their position, even if it meant spreading around shit that wasn't true. Early on in the movie we see a group of those with power talking about the main character's, a professor, ideas and the 'radical' politics he espoused during a speech that was put on by a group called the World Improvement League. One character insists that the group is quite dangerous, as if he's already heard of them, only for us to find out just a minute or two later that The World Improvement League isn't really a group, and certainly not one with any influence or that could pose any 'danger', as it's something the professor made up to boost the profile of his speech. Which makes the other character look even more ridiculous when he later arrives at the professor's house and sees the address, declares it to be the headquarters for the 'dangerous' group. It's such a succinct but completely accurate piece of satire about the way those in power will rely on half truths, or even flat out lies, and reactionary behavior to shut down dissent. It's a sign that, again, for all its flaws, Make a Million had someone quite clever at least somewhere behind the wheel.

At the very same time it's blatantly pointing out that because the professor is poor he has no recourse if those in power want to go after him for his politics. By putting himself in their crosshairs simply by talking about politics that threaten his power he put himself at risk of not being able to afford to feed himself. The movie does a really great job of setting up the wild power imbalance between the haves and the have nots. It also highlights the way those in need are often demonized by those in power, who wield the press like a weapon, as a way to distract from how much the status quo hurts the common man.

Of course, even with how well so much of its politics is handled at points, there are some issues on that end. There's a bit where a panhandler decides to fake disabilities in order to get money in a way that feels like it was probably offensive even for. Considering what a good job this movie does at demonstrating the issue of the haves vs. the have nots and how capitalism is built to keep those without wealth down, it's disappointed that the poorest characters in the movie are presented in that way. Especially because it remains a thing through the whole movie.

The humor is hit or miss, with a lot more misses than hits. While I think most of the satire is really sharp and work incredibly well, the more general "screwball" bits tends to fall pretty flat. There's the aforementioned scene where the panhandler is faking disabilities that's pretty horrible. But there's also a pair of scene that I think are pretty solidly funny where those panhandlers are learning to behave like a wealthy board of the directors, and then their attempts in action. The panhandlers trying to mimic rich people is a lot funnier than them trying to mimic disabled people. There's one moment that I laughed out loud at where they're all talking with the bank about ways to invest the money, and at one point one of the bankers asks how they feel about copper, and one of the panhandlers responds by saying "I don't want anything to do with coppers! I'd rather not take a change with them!" In general, the movie seems pretty anti-cop. It's a very funny series of set ups and punchlines that works really well. Which just makes it all the more disappointing that there's so much humor here that just does not work.

There's also absolutely nothing about the romance that works. Initially it seems like there might be a fun rivals to lovers thing, and their mutual hatred for each other did allow for a fun chemistry early on. But the female lead character is just so unlikeable. She's a wealthy little capitalist whose ideas and behavior are downright hateful. And then all of a sudden she just magically disagrees with her father and is on the professor's side now with pretty much no reason. The thing she ends up objecting to isn't anything different than things she'd said herself. It also just feels entirely shoehorned in, as romances were kind of mandatory when it came to movies from this era for the most part.

The ending is... pretty disappointing, but unsurprising. For all their criticism of the wealthy, screwball comedies usually still end with a pretty soft touch. The wealthy people might have learned to appreciate things other than money or something like that, but in the end you never really see any wealthy character deciding to redistribute their wealth, and usually the poor characters end up earning wealth. So the ultimate message still ends up being that being a part of the wealthy class is the ideal, and sadly Make a Million follows the same path. In the end, the professor finds that he can create wealth for himself by turning his charitable fund into a business, which just feels like an ending that smacks every single bit of political satire in this movie in the face. It feels like an ending that had to have been mandated by the studio because it's so out of pace with everything preceding it.

This is a tough one to rate. I think I'm going to settle on 2.5/5. When it's really digging into the satire it's one of the most sharp and clever movies from the 1930s I've seen, and one of the most unflinching in its liberal politics. But almost everything outside of that satire falls pretty flat, and the ending almost feels like a betrayal of everything that came before it. I am going to go ahead and give it a 'like' though, because its satire is so damn good.

#lists #screwball september #classic film #classic movies #screwball comedy #my man godfrey #the lady eve #mr. and mrs. smith #the mad miss manton #carefree #ruggles of red gap #four's a crowd #wise girl #by candlelight #make a million #my movie and tv stuff

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timechange · 6 months ago

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MCFLY JULY ‘24 — roll with me, henry.

MAY 12, 1956

Prom is so much bigger and so much louder than George had been expecting.

Balloons and decorations are everywhere, the band is in full swing, and the whole country club is alive with dancing and movement.

He finds himself drawn to the outskirts of the party, nursing a glass of water he’d gone to get five minutes ago as he runs a hand through his hair, straightening his suit and boutonniere. He keeps his eyes on Lorraine, and, as always, she’s lighting up the room with her dazzling smile, dancing with her friends in her beautiful blue dress that matches his tie. Even though it’s been months since they’d been going steady, he still finds himself wondering what in the world she’s doing with him, marveling at how out of everyone in the whole school she’d picked him.

She meets his gaze and his heart stops for a moment when she raises her gloved, corsaged hand and waves to him, her gorgeous eyes sparkling in the lights.

He manages an awkward wave, pink dusting his cheeks, wondering if he’d be missed if he ducked into the bathroom and didn’t come out for an hour or so.

‘George, buddy,’ Marty’s voice pops into his head again. It’s been happening more and more frequently lately, with the protagonists in his stories always managing to have a best friend who knows just what to say at just the right time. It’s some kind of narrative shadow, like a ghost creeping in through the pages, that he just can’t shake. ‘You’re not seriously gonna be a wallflower at your own prom, are ya?’

He can almost see him, too, leaning up against the wall like he’s the coolest guy in school. While George is in baby blue, Marty would be in pink, maybe, giving him one of those mysterious and oddly familiar smiles.

“No,” he defends, weakly. “I needed a minute, that’s all. It’s hot in here and there’s so many people, I just…”

‘I thought we talked about this,’ Marty would respond, squeezing his shoulder. ‘You gotta stop freaking yourself out.’

“I have to stop what?”

‘You gotta get out of your head, George,’ his inner Marty continues. ‘Look. You love that girl, right?’

“More than anything in the whole world,” George sighs. “No. In the whole universe.”

‘Right, okay. So, if you need a break, why don’t you tell her you’re overwhelmed and you need to get some air? And take her with you this time, got it?’

“But… she’s with her friends, I… I wouldn’t want to get in her way…”

‘George.’ Marty gives him a pointed look that reminds George way too much of his mother. ‘She came to the dance with you. She wants to be with you and she wants you to have a good time. She’s not gonna want you to be miserable.’

“...Okay,” George acquiesces, sighing. “Okay, you’re right, as usual.”

‘Can I get that in writing?’

“What?”

‘Never mind. Now go on, get outta here.’

He almost can feel the playful shove forward Marty would give him, but when he looks back at the wall, there’s nobody there.

Gently, he takes Lorraine’s hand, giving a smile to Helen and Margaret and asking them to excuse them a moment. The two girls giggle and gladly disappear into the crowd.

“...I think I need some air,” he tells her. “I-is that okay?”

“You know, I was just thinking the same thing,” Lorraine reaches up to cup his cheek, thumbing over his cheekbone and giving him her sweetest smile, the one she saves just for him.

The two walk hand in hand out to the porch, closing the French doors behind them, and the relief George feels is overwhelming and immediate as he leans against the porch railing, looking up at the sky.

“Are you okay?” Lorraine asks, rubbing his back.

“I am now,” George returns, smiling. “I-I just… I know it sounds silly but I get overwhelmed, sometimes, in big crowds.”

“It doesn’t sound silly at all!” Lorraine exclaims, “I understand. Ever since… that night… I don’t really like small spaces, or feeling trapped... So I’m really glad you said what you did.”

George is pretty convinced Marty was right; this has to be destiny, it just has to be.

“Me too,” he agrees. “I’d much rather be out here with you.”

“I would, too.” After a moment, Lorraine continues. “You know… you can still hear the music pretty well.”

“That’s right, you can.” George extends his hand and Lorraine takes it.

Together, underneath the blanket of stars, they start to dance.

#drabble tbt.#mcflyjuly #mcfly july ‘24.#george & lorraine tbt.#yes i Did spend too much time researching 50s and 80s prom 'fits and yes i will probably post reference photos #(red was even so kind as to make me an edit <3)#i have a lot of feelings about how marty had such an impact on george even just inside of a week #he's the closest thing george has ever had to a friend at that point (even though he has plenty afterward)#and i am constantly angry / sad about how lorraine's feelings about That Night are just brushed aside like that's not something you Get Ove #*Get Over #like they're never even mentioned again!!!#anyways lp george and lorraine love and support each other and it's very important to me #queue. this is heavy.

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evenhisfacewasanalias · 3 months ago

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Day 27: Free Day: Throne Sex

For @myladyjanecentral Kinktober/Kimptober

Lady Jane Grey/Guildford Dudley

Rating: Adult

Jane watches as the sun sets through the stained glass windows to the west, wishing she could see an end in sight to this Council meeting. Party planning meeting, really - what had started as an actual meeting about her sudden disbanding of the Kingsland Guard and easing of the Division Laws had taken a strange turn at the reminder of her upcoming coronation.

Suddenly, everyone had an opinion. Many of those present still remembered the spectacular coronation of Henry the VIII, and the somewhat lesser occasion of her cousin’s. All had an endless supply of advice to offer her, which had taken the better part of the last several hours.

Jane finds she doesn’t care one whit about the sodding menu, or the music, or really any part of the ceremony that isn’t her plan to draw Mary’s treachery out into the open - with a little help from her surprise guests. But she can’t exactly discuss those plans here.

At the far end of the throne room, she spots Guildford leaning against the doorframe, watching her try to hide her growing annoyance at her intransigent cabinet suddenly transformed into experts on floral arrangements - on which they are equally as uncompromising. Despite the smug expression with which he watches her field their advice, she can’t remember when she’s ever been so happy to see her errant husband. He must have come here straight from the stables as he was still in his leather doublet and trousers.

She stands from the throne with finality.

“I think that’s enough planning for one night, we can resume our discussions on the morrow.”

A spirited debate over whether the inclusion of rosemary would be a warm remembrance of Edward or too funereal, thankfully ends at her rise. But still, no one makes a move to leave.

“You are dismissed,” she tries, barely holding herself back from shooing her Councilors from the room.

Jane remains standing as they all file out of the room to the last man, finally leaving her alone with Guildford. She hadn’t been able to speak with him since he had helped her to decipher Mary and Lord Seymour’s letters the night before - and then there was the matter of their near kiss in the stables. But for once he looks nearly as pleased to see her as she does to see him, and so she decides that now is not the moment to tell him of Mary’s attempted regicide, or her newly developed plans to bait her into another attempt. He will only try and talk her out of it. So she simply smiles as he makes his way toward her.

“The crown suits you,” he nods to her as he nears the throne, where she still stands on the slightly raised dais, leveling her gaze with his.

Jane reaches up to straighten the heavy circle of gold and jewels, expertly matched with her green and blue dress by her mother. She had only put it on to try and gain back a little of her authority as she faced down her Council. Now she feels a little silly about wearing it, and the ridiculous debate he just witnessed.

“It actually did start as a real Council meeting,” she tries to explain. “But I don’t know which is worse - arguing with a bunch of obstinate old men over the backwardness of our Division Laws, or debating the merits of peacock versus porpoise on the menu.”

“Well, that all rather depends on whether one considers peacock to be meat or poultry,” Guildford puts on his best impression of the Earl of Wiltshire. Apparently he had been listening for some time. It must be later than she realizes.

“Please don’t start that again,” she begs. “But you’re right, that was actually worse. I think I might actually be reaching a few of the younger Councilors on the Ethian issue.”

“In regione caecorum rex est luscus ,” Guildford quips back with a smile. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.

Jane freezes. Even though he means to mock her, she sometimes forgets that while her husband might be equal parts ill-mannered and pigheaded, underneath it all he is in fact highly intelligent. And - rather unfortunately - almost nearly as charming as he thinks he is. But she won’t admit that the reminder of her husband’s ability to spout Latin aphorisms - or crack elaborate ciphers - still does something to her as it had at their first meeting.

And so she pulls herself together as best she can, putting on a mask of indifference to the effect his words have on her.

“I think you mean ‘regina est lusca ’,” she corrects.

But his grin only widens. “Glad to see becoming Queen hasn’t gone to your head if you’re still correcting my Latin.”

She raises her brows, “and you’re still in need of correction.”

“How about this one then? Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo .” If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise hell.

Fuck. That’s even worse. She can feel her body tensing in expectation of…something. Another battle of words, perhaps? Jane will never admit she enjoys matching wits with her husband on occasion. Even if she still craves a different kind of confrontation.

“Virgil, not bad. Carmina vel caelo possunt deducere lunam ,” she counters his Aeneid with the Eclogues. Songs can lead even the Moon down from the Heavens - not a perfect retort but at least it mirrors the reference to the heavens, and it comes from a far less widely read source. Guildford:1, Jane: 2. “Your pronunciation has improved at least,” she allows.

“I’m no polyglot, though I’ve often been complimented on my skilled tongue,” he winks back at her, bringing an immediate flush to her cheeks.

Her mind immediately jumps to the oft-visited memory of their two shared kisses, both all too brief - the way his warm hands had cupped her jaw as his tongue sought hers. Skilled indeed.

His smirk tells her he notices her blush, but he has the good grace not to comment on it for once. “Did you know, that first night that we met, I thought to myself - what kind of woman visits a tavern just to correct a man's Latin?”

This, at least, she can handle. Debating their respective faults is well-worn territory between them.

“And I wondered how I managed to find the most insufferable prat in all of England.”

The corners of her mouth tilt upward to show she’s merely in jest. After all, they’ve both had to deal with Lord Seymour lately. Still, she counts it as a victory, sitting back on the throne and crossing her arms over her chest looking very pleased with herself. Jane ignores that this posture unintentionally presses her breasts up against the bodice of her gown, but she doesn’t miss the way Guildford’s eyes glance down.

“In all of England, really? London, maybe,” he concedes. “Neither of us was at our best that night. Any chance you’ve reconsidered that first impression?”

“A queen must be unwavering,” she replies, feigning a royal countenance. Her crown tilts a little against the engraved wood behind her as she tries to look down, her nose at him, but Guildford’s standing far too close.

He slips even closer. One booted foot steps up onto the dais, bending at the knee so he can lean further into her space. His arms go to either side of her, gripping the throne’s armrests and caging her in. Her breath catches at his sudden nearness.

“Then perhaps I shall tell you more about my first impression of you,” he offers.

“Oh?” She attempts to feign indifference, still trying to act the part of the Queen regnant - even as the heat of his body and the smell of warm leather reach her, leaving her feeling a little lightheaded. “Remember that any disparaging remarks could now be considered treason.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks, his face nearing hers. “In fact, when I saw you walking towards me I thought you looked like a woman in desperate need of a good shagging. Or at least a very thorough tongue lashing.”

His words are delivered with a wink and she can’t help the blush that reaches her cheeks, her whole body growing warm with the weight of his words. Jane tries to keep it together.

“I seem to remember already receiving a tongue lashing from you over my - what was it again? My amiability?” Her voice nearly squeaks at that last word, but she makes it through.

“Not that kind of tongue lashing, Your Highness.”

Guildford’s nose does that little scrunch that it always does when she’s being particularly obtuse, and her face heats further at the realization of what he means, as well as the intimate inflection of her title. That last part sends a little shivery zing down her spine. Guildford’s probably already guessed the effect it’s having on her, the bastard.

“And what made you change that impression?” She barely manages to get out.

“Who says I did?”

And it’s true that Guildford has made no secret of his desire for her - it’s her wishes that have always halted them. But with the imprint of Mary’s fingers still around her throat, she finds she really doesn’t want to stop whatever is happening between them right now. Who knows when she’ll ever have the chance again? Jane catches Guildford’s dark eyes glancing down at her lips and pushes all thoughts of doubt from her mind.

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot,” she commands

“Happy to serve, Your Majesty,” he smiles back, leaning in.

And promptly drops to his knees.

Her mind blanks a little at the sudden sight, eyes widening and lips parting. What on earth was he doing? Jane realizes she’s asked the question aloud.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He smirks before bringing his hands to her knees, sliding the fabric of her skirts upwards. Surely he doesn’t really intend to…

“What if someone comes in?” she stammers, but doesn’t stop the press of his hands upwards.

“That’s half the fun,” he winks up at her. “But don’t worry, they won’t see much,” he assures before ducking beneath her skirts. Jane doesn’t even think of halting him, still too stunned and more than a little aroused by the thought of it..

The first touch of his warm hands to the backs of her knees has her inhaling sharply, the sound echoing loudly in the empty hall. With those same hands he pulls her to the edge of her seat, spreading her thighs to accommodate broad shoulders between them, and she barely catches herself from falling back against the throne.

It occurs to Jane that beneath her heavy damask skirts, she’s completely bare but for her chemise and stockings. There’s nothing to impede him. He could just…

Instead, she feels the faintest press of lips, the slight catch of his stubble against the side of her right knee though the silk. And how had she never realized before that her knees were this sensitive? His hands run soothingly along the backs of her stockings until she’s able to slightly regain her balance, reaching out to grip at ornate armrests. And then she can feel his hands moving inward to press her knees further apart, bringing a fresh wave of heat spreading beneath her skin and down to her pool low in her belly.

As his hands grasp at her thighs, she feels strangely aware of the cool weight of his wedding ring gliding across her skin, the rightness of its presence. She glances down at its mate on her own left hand. And then her whole world narrows to the feel of his hot mouth traveling up along her inner thighs, the dragging lips and the slight rasp of his jaw along the sensitive skin there. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation, drawing in little shaky breaths as she imagines the flushed trails he leaves behind.

The sudden hard edge of teeth biting into the softness of her thigh has her nearly jolting out of her seat. Guildford immediately soothes the sting with his tongue. Jane gasps at the feel of it, surprised at her enjoyment of the slight edge of pain mixed with the pleasure of his lips and tongue. Not hearing any protests, he repeats the gesture, a bare inch away from the last mark, and she can feel him practically growling into her thigh as he sinks his teeth a little harder into the skin there. Jane lets out a shuddery moan at the feel of it, skirting just the edge of too much.

Showing uncharacteristic mercy on her, Guildford continues his journey upward, delivering gentler nips and sucking kisses along the soft skin. She can feel herself half trembling, winding tighter and tighter as he nears his goal, her sex already slick with want. He’s so close…

But just as he nears, Guildford suddenly switches to her other thigh, repeating the same maddening treatment until she’s practically keening. Jane already feels like she’s vibrating out of her skin and he’s still so far from where she actually wants him. She shivers as soft curls brush against the already over sensitized skin of her right thigh as he works his way up the leftmost. Each bite draws out another hiss of pleasure followed by a moan as he sucks what’s she sure is an additional bruise along the still unmarked skin.

Finally, finally , he’s delivering a final nip to the top of one thigh and then he pauses there, breathing deeply. She shudders at the feel of warm breath against her cunt as he breathes out again. Her thighs try to press together at the sensation but are halted by Guildford’s strong shoulders. His hands pull them even further apart, as his face presses closer. Her clit is already throbbing as he noses against her curls, and she practically shouts when his tongue finally drags over her, tasting her.

This time, he doesn’t tease, lapping into her immediately, parting her with his tongue. Her face heats at the wet sound of it, muffled as it is by her skirts, but she doesn’t pull away. His tongue strokes broadly at first before delving into her folds. He swiftly finds her clit, alternating little flicks and flutters of his tongue followed by suckling at the little bundle of nerves until she’s writhing in her seat.

“Guildford, ” a steady stream of moans and his name pours from her lips every time he gets something just right.

His tongue travels further down, dipping into her entrance. She’s only ever had the touch of her own fingers there before and the soft heat of his tongue as it presses into her nearly has her bucking her hips against him. She can feel him chuckle at the aborted twitch of her hips as she tries to restrain herself, but the inward glide of his tongue does nothing to help.

And suddenly, she can’t stand not being able to see any of what is happening beneath her skirt, wanting desperately to see his face as he pleasures her, and tangle her fingers in his dark curls.

“Guildford, wait…”

He halts immediately, drawing back from beneath her skirts to search her face for any indication that this is too much for her. But Jane merely sucks in a breath at the sight of his own face, flushed pink and glistening with sweat, all the way down his throat to what she can just glimpse of his chest between the vee of his shirt. His curls are in complete disarray. And worst of all that vexing mouth of his is now red and shiny from what she blushes to realize is her. Jane aches at the sight.

“I wanted to see you,” she confesses.

Guildford’s face lights up at her words, apparently having thought she meant to reject him once more. With a sharp burst of fondness that surprises her, Jane reaches out to take his face in her hands, running her fingers along his relieved smile. He presses into her fingers, turning his face to kiss at the center of her palms. With one of her hands she reaches up to press back damp curls from his forehead, soothing along it. With the other she glides it back to tangle in his soft curls as she had been so desperate to just moments ago, unconsciously drawing him toward her.

His pleased expression curls into a grin. “If anyone walks in now they might get an eyeful.”

And she can see exactly what he means. Her skirts are bunched around her thighs - which are now covered in lines of pink and faint bruises - her stockings barely holding on. But in between them is Guildford, flushed even pinker and on his knees before her. She should be embarrassed but all she feels in this moment is powerful.

“All they’ll see is you serving your Queen,” she retorts, and doesn’t miss Guildford’s shudder at her words.

Her hands slide deeper into his curls to grip at the locks, delighting at the sight of her husband’s eyes nearly rolling back, his lips parting at the slight tug. An even stronger pull has him moaning, but still grinning up at her. Jane laughs. Neither one of them has ever been good at giving in.

Still, he goes willingly as she guides him back to where she’s aching. It takes them a moment to rearrange her gown so that it’s out of the way but then he’s pressing back in, tongue picking up just where it left off.

Where it left off was driving her slowly insane, the delicious in and out of his clever tongue. Still keeping a firm grip on his curls, she guides him back up to her clit when it has started to feel neglected, and he’s quick to wrap his lips around it, swirling his tongue around her. His eyes flick up to meet hers and she gasps at the intensity of his gaze.

His tongue moves down to dip into her again, and at the slight tease of it she tightens her grip to press him deeper. Guildford groans, eyes briefly slipping closed at the sensation and she can feel the sound vibrate through her. Jane suddenly wants more.

With one hand she keeps hold of him, pressing him into her, while the other shifts to run through his wild curls, occasionally scratching at his scalp with blunted nails. Each motion draws out a new little noise from her husband and she feels them all reverberating shiveringly through her cunt. His tongue is practically fucking her now, and she can feel her hips trying to match his rhythm.

Jane tries to stop herself, but Guildford’s hands run soothingly along her outer thighs, petting at her hips and encouraging them to rock back, riding against the thrust of his tongue. Like this, his lips and nose occasionally bump against her clit, but it’s not quite enough.

“I need…” she starts, not sure exactly what she intends to say.

Thankfully Guildford seems to guess at it, the way she’s tilting her hips against him. His right hand abandons her hip to wrap around her thigh and slip between them. Like this he’s able to press his palm against her belly, thumb slipping down to slickly circle her clit in time with the motion of his tongue, leaving her trembling above him. In Guildford’s dark eyes she can read how much he wants this too, how lost he is in her pleasure, in his adoration of her.

Her hands can’t stop running over any part of him she can touch - his hair, his shoulders, his jaw - and he hums his pleasure at each touch deep within her. The sensation is almost too much as her hips buck helplessly against him, legs shaky with effort. She can feel her inner walls clenching with each plunge of his tongue inside her, her whole body thrumming with need.

“Guildford, ” she breathes out.

She can feel what must be her own name moaned into her as Guildford clutches roughly at her hip, pressing her into his fingers and mouth as he drags her screaming over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure flows through her as the muscles of her core tense and release with the continued onslaught of his tongue, the ceaseless press of his thumb against her clit. When it finally gets to be too much, he eases her down from it, gentling his tongue and fingers until she only feels soft little kittenish licks and the shuddery tremors that follow.

Eventually, she draws him back from him, huffing out a giggle as he wipes his face on the edge of her gown. Guildford raises himself up on unsteady legs to press his lips to hers, mouth still slick with her release. Her body gives one last little tremble at the taste of herself on his tongue. She never wants to stop kissing him, but eventually they have to break apart for air.

“Thorough enough for you, Your Majesty?” Guildford asks rather breathlessly, reaching up to straighten her crown where it’s tipped forward.

“Full marks for pronunciation,” she laughs.

He winks back at her.

“You can correct my Latin anytime.”

#my lady jane #fanfiction #kinktober #myladyjanecentral #mljkimptober

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aceofstars16 · 4 months ago

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1-5, 7, 9-11, & 16-20 for Forever, please?

1. what got you into this story?

I think I just saw trailers for it when it first started airing? I’m going to guess I saw something while watching Elementary cause they were both on TV at the same time haha. I really don’t watch a lot of TV, but I guess the premise intrigued me and then I really liked it 🥲

2. describe it in one or two sentences

An immortal is (by his son’s urging) learning how to live/let people in again (albeit *very slowly*) while also helping solve crime with a detective who he has an immense amount of care and chemistry with. Oh and there is another immortal who is kind of insane but that’s not the draw (for me 😂)

3. quickly list 3 things you like about the story!

Found family (or just family in general), amazing slow burn, complex characters you want to hug

4. assign this story a hyper-specific genre name, e.g. "inspirational religious semi-horror sci-fi western"

Uhhhh hmmm…I’m bad at genres lol…detective/mystery/heart-tugging/kind of dark sometimes 😂

5. do you have a favorite character? who?

This is hardddd….probably Henry, like, I love him, I literally wrote a whole post about why I love him he has such a caring heart despite everything 😭 But also Abe! And Jo! And Lucas always makes me laugh too 😂

7. how does the story compare to your initial impressions of it? has it surprised you yet? how?

Hmmm, it’s been so long since my initial impressions, but I feel like it does the immortal character very well, just…the emotions and trauma and depth, but also that he’s still human. I’m not sure about surprises, I think I forgot about some great moments, so maybe those are surprising haha

9. give the most UNHELPFUL and/or SILLY summary possible.

Immortal man runs into things without thinking, leaving his detective partner to run after him and get him out of trouble

10. if you made an amv about this, what song would you set it to?

Probably “Feel Again” by OneRepublic, it’s so good for Henry and Jo 😭

11. if you were put in the main character's position, how well would that go for you on a scale of 1-5?

0??? Bro, not only do I not want to be immortal but like…I *hate* medical things and he’s a doctor and a medical examiner…I would literally run the other way 😂

16. do you think this story has broad appeal, or is it meant for a very specific audience? if it's more "niche", what kind of person would most enjoy this story?

Hmmm, I’m not really sure tbh? I don’t think it’s super niche but it could be, I think if you like found family and like…an MC that is very human but also like…not…I don’t know man it’s hard to describe it’s just…emotional but like…in a good way, it feels real but that means the happy stuff is real too 🥲

17. compare this story to your usual tastes. how does it differ from what you've already enjoyed?

Hmmm I mean, like I stated, I’m not a huge fan of medical things, so…that’s different but as long as I can look away I’m okay 😂 There is something dark stuff with death in a sense, but like…that’s not why I like it, I like it for the characters lol

18. compare this story to your usual tastes. what parts of it are exactly the kind of thing you've always loved?

I think I’ve already kind of touched on it, but found family (mostly Abe and Henry), a very real but gentle and caring MC, actually one of the best slow burns, and it does have some mystery in terms of Henry’s past too (I do like kind of detective/mystery elements in shows and movies)

19. pitch an idea for a sequel or spinoff novel for this story!

At this point it’s been over for 10 years….honestly just like one episode 10 years after the last one as a kind of flashback of Henry telling Jo he’s immortal and them still solving crime together (and obviously married cause I need this okay). If it was actually like…further in the future, maybe something with Henry and his relationship with his kids with Jo (whether adopted or not), like them as adults or even grandkids (though I personally want him to like…start aging and actually experience all of life and not keep living forever but 🤷‍♀️)

20. what's the WORST thing about this story, in your opinion? (feel free to be positive, e.g. "it's not longer", if you want!)

It was canceled…I want more…also the creepy stuff I could do without, but like…yeah it being canceled after one season 😭

#forever abc #forever #I just want more of Jo and henry okay….like.#they are just so good 😭😭😭#(okay and henry and abe I love them so much my heart yall know I love found family and adopted families 😭)#a message from fulcrum #it’s gonna take me a while to answer the other ones you sent in but I’ll try to do at least one more today hopefully 😂

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beautifulhigh · 1 year ago

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I think I am giving up on the idea of this project being fully secret, but I'm still going to keep the context and situation to myself because I want to experience you all experiencing it for the first time.

So I'm taking the open tag from @kiwiana-writes and giving you this which is going to confuse the f'k out of everyone and I don't care.

As Henry began to turn away from him, Alex's mouth opened and before he could even think about what he was going to say he'd begun talking. "Once upon a time there was a boy, and there was also a prince," he said, "who lived in a land so far from where the boy lived that it may as well have been on another planet. The boy knew who the prince was, of course he did, but he never imagined that the prince would know his name. The prince didn't even know the names of all of his subjects, what was one boy from another land? "But then, against all of the odds, the boy's mom got a new job. One that meant she, and therefore the boy, would be able to visit other countries and a palace and even see the prince and his family. The boy was excited by this because he thought that he and the prince might be friends. It was a silly thought; what would a prince have in common with a boy like him? But it didn't stop the boy from having hope. "The first time the boy saw the prince was at a tournament. The entire world was there, celebrating the best of the best in all kinds of sporting events. It took the boy all of his courage to walk up to the prince but he was rejected before he could say any of the things he wanted to say. And for a long time the boy thought he'd done something wrong, that he had angered or upset the prince in some way. Until one day, years later, they were forced to spend time together. "It was then that the boy learned the rejection had not been about him, but instead because the prince was grieving his father. The boy also learned that the prince was also afraid of what might happen if he and the boy became friends, if they got too close. Because just as the boy never thought he would ever meet the prince, the prince thought he would never get to have someone in his life like the boy." Alex took a breath, wondering in that moment if he was pushing this too far, if this was the most ridiculous thing he had ever done and Henry was about to roll his eyes and walk away from him again. But he wasn't moving. Henry was still slightly turned away from him but he was standing still as if rooted to the spot. "Once the boy understood that he pressed on with his friendship with the prince and they would send messages and talk long into the night. Even though their lands were far apart they always made time in their day to speak to each other. "And then, on New Year's, the prince was brave. Braver than the boy would know for years. The prince kissed the boy. And in that moment, the boy kissed the prince back. Even though he'd never thought about it before, in the moment it was the most right he'd ever felt in his entire life." Alex watched Henry's jaw clench a little. The corner of his mouth pinching just a little.

I have no idea who is writing at the moment so I'm extending my own open tag.

#writing jen is writing #work in progress wednesday #firstprince #rwrb #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #otp: history huh #Jen's Super Secret Firstprince Fic #prince henry of wales

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majorbaby · 2 years ago

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decided it was as good a night as any to watch MASH (1970). i was going to take detailed notes the way i've been doing during my current rewatch of MASH (TV) but the purpose of that has been so i have stuff to refer back to when creating fanwork. about halfway through the watch i decided it wasn't worth all of that, but i did still make some notes about what i liked and didn't.

the bad

i'm starting with the bad because it had a really big effect on my experience of watching this movie. no need for bullets because it's the one thing, but the one thing is really bad: the misogyny. given, i have a very weak stomach for sexual violence on screen, particularly against women, but like, under no circumstances would i recommend this movie to anyone without a very heavy-handed content warning.

i'd been forewarned against it but i still underestimated how bad it would be. it was cruel and it left such a bad taste in my mouth i don't think i can rewatch, and if i ever do, i'd skip the offending scenes.

don't be fooled by the number of things on my "good" list. i'd trade 'em all for there to be less of the bad.

the good

genuinely touching opening credits. the MASH theme is immortal. beautiful shots of the compound. i'm gushing about it because i've worked in editing/motion graphics and i love a solid title sequence, this is one of the best i've ever seen

this movie hates christianity in general, but distinguishes catholicism from protestantism. i thought that was interesting considering MASH (TV)'s Frank is prejudiced against Catholics, something that is characteristic of a more rigid flavour of white supremacy that racializes people who would normally qualify as white (e.g. Italian and Irish Catholics). pointing out the difference tells me this movie is aware of evangelical christianity being the chief religious influence on American public policy, including foreign policy

this movie really hates the army, it could just stand to do better at hating the ideologies that prop up the army as well

hawkeye will call any man "babe" or "baby"

trapper john and his mysterious parka of assorted sundries

that's another thing. this movie is really gay, which does not absolve it of its sins

"Captain Pierce, did you call me?" "No, my name is Hawkeye"

Mclean's Henry Blake is way more likeable than movie Henry Blake, but the similarities are all there

i need to talk about the tone of this movie. so going back to the title sequence, part of the reason i like it so much is because it perfectly establishes the tone of the entire movie. larry gelbart once said that the title sequence to MASH (TV) "prepares you for what you are about to watch" and while I agree with that statement completely, I think it's doubly true of its film counterpart. there's this melancholy feeling that persists throughout the whole movie. kind of depressing tbh, despite how boisterous and silly the events on screen can get. there's a lot of mood lighting, quiet conversations. outside it's eternally overcast. when i think of it and compare it to MASH (TV) I understand why Robert Altman hated the show so much. tonally, it's completely different. when you hear the japanese cover of "happy days are here again" in the movie, it feels especially ironic, rather than lighthearted as it can be on MASH (TV). "my blue heaven" sounds even darker. but inspite of the gloom that pervades the movie, it's never quite as tragic as the objectively tragic moments on MASH (Bless You Hawkeye, GFA, Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, Guerilla My Dreams etc). the ending really nails that sad, but not too sad vibe.

once again, oliver jones is the hottest surgeon at the 4077th

elliott gould is a close second

trapper and hawkeye are in love... to everyone's peril. gay wrongs. so many gay wrongs in this movie.

did you think i was done talking about how in love trapper and hawkeye are in this? hawkeye, trapper and duke are supposed to be something of a trio in this movie, but as soon as trapper arrives duke is third-wheeling constantly. hawkeye says to trapper when he meets him, "do i know you from somewhere?" and a slow smile spreads across trapper's face later, while tossing around a football, hawkeye catches a pass from trapper and recognizes him by it as trapper does a slow walk towards hawkeye with his hands in my pockets good god, be still my piercintyre loving heart: trapper: [describing a pass] lucky your mouth wasn’t open or it would’ve got stuck in your throat hawkeye: baby! why it’s trapper john mcintyre!

we are never having the casual sex on MASH debate ever again, hawkeye settled it in this movie: (the) lieutenant dish: hawkeye, you have to remember, i’m married hawkeye: i’m married. i’m happy. i love my wife. if she was here, i’d be with her dish: i’m very happily married hawkeye: there is no question to loving anybody, it is a question of only helping.

#mostly it was good for rounding out my piercintyre headcanons #re: mash #mash 1970

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spartanguard · 2 years ago

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green with envy

Summary: Being back in Storybrooke brought up a lot of emotions in Emma—some forgotten, some new, and mostly unpleasant. Is that why she literally seems to be turning green with envy? And what can she do about it? (canon-divergent-ish from 3x14)

A/N: Hello! I am still here! This is just a kind of silly idea I've had floating around for a while, and finally finished. All the thanks to @optomisticgirl for looking it over! Hope you enjoy it!

rated T | 5.7k | AO3

Emma was wired with nervous energy as she and her dad shuffled into the loft. Finding the Witch’s hideout—and apparently that she had been holding the supposedly-dead Dark One captive—was definitely jarring, but it wasn’t the only thing that had her on edge.

That moment with Hook in the woods was still playing through her mind.

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

Despite the distance she’d put between them after it (even though she came dangerously close to closing it), the idea lingered. She hated that he wasn’t as wrong as she wanted him to be, but mostly, she was envious that he could still have such an optimistic outlook, especially knowing that he’d been through as much shit as her, if not more, in the heartbreak department.

Jealousy wasn’t a good look on anyone, but that hadn’t stopped her from metaphorically taking on the same pallor as the forest around her. So she was going to try to ignore that—and him—as much as she could. There were much bigger issues at hand. But for now, she’d settle with a nap and a drink.

Cruelly, though, this new curse had taken her mother’s expectant condition into account, and upon inspection of the cabinets and fridge, there wasn’t a drop of anything harder than ginger ale in the loft. She was making a mental note to bug Granny for the good stuff once she got back to the inn, but her mom had a different idea.

“Well, Zelena left this tea here,” Snow offered, holding what looked like a homemade tea bag. “It’s green, so it’s got too much caffeine for me, and your father doesn’t like it. Why don’t you take it?”

Eh, what the hell; it would do in a pinch. And Emma did have to admit, as she sipped it from one of the mugs she’d favored before the first curse had broken, that it was probably the best green tea she’d had in a while, even better than from her favorite sushi place in New York.

It worked, for a bit, even though it made her a little homesick for the Big Apple. (The shot of whiskey she eventually got from Granny helped, too.)

And, like she was prone to, she swallowed down all those difficult feelings as she drifted off to sleep that night.

═══════════════

The alarm on her phone came way too early the next morning, even if it was one of her favorite songs. She started to groan and curl inward, until she remembered that Henry was still asleep, and quickly silenced both her phone and herself. She shivered a bit as she got out from under the thick covers, wishing she could stay in the warmth but knowing she had stuff to do.

That didn’t stop the brief pang of jealousy as she looked over at Henry, still asleep and snug in his bed. But that was why she was doing this, right? To make sure he stayed safe and comfortable? She’d take a nap this afternoon or something.

As quietly as she could manage, she grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom to get dressed and ready. Except—was it just her, or were the lights in there terrible? She knew she was probably a little pasty after having spent most of the last year indoors, but she didn’t think she looked…green.

It looked better after she put on her foundation, though, so she finished her makeup, pressed a kiss on Henry’s head, grabbed her coat, and headed downstairs to meet her parents and the rest of their motley witch-hunting crew.

She blatantly ignored the flip of her stomach when she saw Killian was already in the sitting room, quickly jumping into business with her parents, who were also expectedly punctual. They set a plan for the day, and if Killian noticed that she intentionally put distance between them—both during their meeting and in their plan of action—he made no effort to breach it, thankfully.

Though even that was its own kind of torture—that he knew her so well as to give her space. Ugh.

Anyways. The rest of the day went without event—no progress, but no setbacks, either. She’d take that as its own kind of win, and couldn’t wait for one of Granny’s grilled cheeses for dinner.

At least, she had been, until she walked into the diner and saw Killian seated at the counter, leaning across it with a lascivious smirk on his face as he apparently flirted with Ruby. That jealous feeling from this morning turned her stomach again, so badly that she made a dash for the restroom. She thought she heard a “Swan” spoken on her breeze as she crossed the dining room, but she didn’t want to stop.

In the privacy of the ladies’ room, she took a deep breath. The nauseous feeling dissipated, but the longing didn’t quite. She splashed some water on her face to cool the flush that had arisen, and put a bit on her neck, too—but when she brought her hand back, it wasn’t red on her throat…it was more green, all along the left side. Not anything dramatic, but a noticeable change from her normal skin tone, and she couldn’t blame it on the lighting this time..

What the hell? Was there something wrong with the water? Maybe she should shower at her parents’ tomorrow.

But for now, she just tied her scarf tighter around her neck and decided to call it a night; there were some Pop-Tarts in the room that would have to suffice (goodness knew she’d had worse meals in the past).

She hit something warm, solid, and wrapped in leather when she emerged, though. “Love, are you alright?” Killian had a steadying hand on her shoulder and worry in his brow.

“I’m fine; just tired,” she said quickly, stepping away from him—and pointedly avoiding his eyes.

“Swan, I know that’s not the whole of it,” he protested as she started to move for the stairs.

“Well, it’s certainly part,” she tossed back. “I’ll see you tomorrow; tell Ruby I said hi.”

She probably didn’t need to say that last part, but the jab felt good as she took the stairs two at a time. (The fact that he had no response—and knowing it was a low blow—wasn’t something she’d think about until she was safe in her room. She also may have feigned a headache as a reason to dim the lights, lest Henry notice the odd spot on her neck.)

═══════════════

It seemed like the spot had faded the next day; or, at least, she’d done a good job of convincing herself it had. She still needed her scarf to cover it, though; winter in Storybrooke necessitated one, so no one would really notice.

In fact, she was feeling totally fine until she got down to the dining room. Henry had headed down first (only after promising not to talk to strangers, which was still most of town) and she saw him across the way, seated at a booth, laughing. For a minute, she was confused, until she saw David was sitting across from him.

She should have been happy to see that, even without Henry’s memories, he was still getting on well with his grandfather, and how good David was with him regardless. She may still have a hard time accepting David as her father, but there was no denying the man’s paternal leanings.

The longer she watched, the more that sour, jealous feeling stirred in her stomach again. Henry didn’t have a complicated relationship with his father—not that he knew about, anyway; and he didn’t have to grapple with all the fairytale BS in his background. (She may have told him that he came via stork when he asked when he was 5, but that was still more probable than being shoved through an intra-realm portal in a tree.)

But at the same time, she didn’t want to rain on their good time with her descending mood, so she took the last seat on the counter instead. Granny almost immediately noticed the way she was slouching in her seat. “Hot chocolate and bear claw?” she called out from the other end of the bar.

“Please,” Emma gratefully replied.

It only took her a minute to get the necessary sustenance to Emma, and she expertly slid them across the counter. But before Emma could even pick up the mug, Granny’s firm grip was holding her chin. “Hold on there, girl; you have something on your nose.”

Emma had never known the feeling of a grandparent tending to her; it was simultaneously touching and embarrassing—especially when Granny used a little too much force trying to wipe away whatever was on her face. “Huh; it’s not budging. How did you get green on there, anyway?” she asked, narrowing her eyes and peering closer.

Shit—more of that? What the hell? “Oh, I must have knocked into something and bruised it,” she quickly lied, hopping up off her stool and out of Granny’s grasp, covering her nose with her hand. “I should…probably go look at it; I’ll bring the dishes back,” she blurted out, grabbing her plate and mug, and hurrying back upstairs (well, as fast as she dared with a mug of steaming hot cocoa).

Once back in her room, she set the food items aside and ran to the bathroom, flicking on the light. Sure enough, there was a greenish smudge on the side of her nose—not terribly dark, but noticeable.

Quickly, she grabbed her concealer stick and attacked her nose. A few times. That seemed to moderately cover it up. But this was getting weird; just what was in the water here that was causing—whatever this was? A rash, maybe? She’d gotten hives from nerves a couple of times; maybe this was related?

She stared for one more minute, but then just sighed and put her concealer in her pocket. There were bigger things to worry about than some weird blemish.

To her dismay, she ended up needing it more often than she expected. It seemed like every time she was in the restroom, she was reapplying makeup on some new spot. The rest of her nose changed color after a meeting in the mayor’s office, where Regina and Robin were shamelessly flirting (and honestly, they should just get together—but she envied that they both seemed so comfortable together); she had to cover up a spot on her chin after patrolling the woods with Robin and Roland and being in awe of how great a dad Robin was (she was jealous of how confident he was, and maybe a bit that Henry didn’t have any positive male role models like Roland did in abundance); and nearly caked it on the back of her hand during another stop at Granny’s, just after seeing a mouthwatering-looking grilled cheese on someone else’s plate.

As she frowned at her pallor in Granny’s washroom, still coveting that sandwich, she had to remind herself that envy didn’t look good on anyone, even though that was all she’d been feeling all day.

Wait—was that it?

Was she literally turning green with envy?

This was Storybrooke; stranger things had certainly happened. (Flying monkeys, anyone?)

But…this seemed like a step too far. No, it was just a weird rash or something. She’d just make a dermatologist appointment when they got back to New York, she’d get some cream, and it’d go away in a couple weeks. Yup, that was all.

And everything was fine until she went back out to meet Henry for dinner. She glanced around the dining room for him, only for her stomach to turn more than once.

First, when she saw Killian seated at the counter with Tink, deep in what seemed like a friendly, light conversation. There was a salacious smirk on his face, but Tink looked to be giving it right back to him—especially when he threw his head back and laughed, showing off the cords of his neck and that constantly teasing bit of chest hair that seemed to become even more exposed as his body heaved and shook. She’d love to have something like that with him, but her damn walls and worries kept that from happening.

Forcing herself to look away, her gaze settled on her parents, seated together on one side of a booth. The way they were cuddled together was almost sickly sweet, but what really got to her was the way David’s hand rested high on Snow’s so-round baby bump, likely feeling her future little sibling move around. God, was Granny chopping onions? She wiped some mist from her eyes, but it was hard to ignore the overwhelming jealousy she felt—both that her baby sibling would always know they were loved and wanted, and that she had to go through her own pregnancy just like she’d done everything else in life: alone.

God, she was queasy from how much it stung—both of those sights. Hopefully no one had seen her yet because, oh god—she was gonna be sick.

Fast as she could, she ran back to her room, just making the toilet in time before bile came up. She felt flushed and angry and bitter, even if she really had no reason to feel those things—or every reason to, and had just been triggered too many times in one day.

She turned back to the sink and ran the cold water, splashing a bit on her face to hopefully cool her overheated skin. She closed her eyes and did briefly enjoy the sensation; it helped a bit. At least, until she opened her eyes.

Because when she did, it became blatantly obvious that her hands were green.

And so were her forearms, when she pushed up her sleeves.

And then she looked in the mirror—and let out a yelp. Because whatever this new skin condition was had covered her entire face and neck now—even her scalp, when she moved her hair a bit to check. It wasn’t an ugly green, at least—kind of a light fern-y color—but still, so wrong.

What the fuck was going on?

She felt her face; her skin didn’t have any different texture than it usually had, so maybe the rash idea was out.

Algae in the water, maybe? No; that didn’t do…this, whatever this was.

She’d look perfect if she wanted to audition for Wicked once they got back to New York, but there wasn’t enough concealer in the whole town to cover this up until then.

For a moment, she was envious of the way she looked when she woke up that morning—and, to her horror, watched herself turn a shade of green darker as that jealous feeling overcame her.

Fuck. She hadn’t been wrong—she was literally turning green with envy.

She groaned and hung her head. This. This was why she wanted to go back to New York. Where none of this stupid magical shit happened. At least, she had to assume that was the cause; she’d worry about the ‘how’ later; for now, she just had to not make it worse.

Maybe if she just stayed away from the stuff that seemed to be triggering it, it might reverse itself? With all the other crap going on, she didn’t want to pile this on—but at the same time, she knew trying to go out and about would inevitably draw attention to it, and her mom or someone would want to fix it.

But mainly—how the hell would she explain it to Henry?

So yeah, trying to resolve on her own was the best plan of action.

She called down to Granny to see if she could run up some food; the old wolf was confused by the request but complied, and Emma was careful to make sure she’d gone back downstairs before opening the door to grab the (perfect, beautiful, delicious) plate of grilled cheese and onion rings.

Playing the headache card again bought her another night in the dark with Henry, but she’d have to come up with a valid reason for that tomorrow. (Was it logical to say there was a power surge and the room was out of electricity? Even though there were other empty rooms on the floor? Eh, that was a tomorrow Emma problem.)

Thankfully, he didn’t question it again, and she was able to chalk up the hoodie wrapped tight around her head to the room being drafty.

But the next morning was another story. She woke before he did and tiptoed to the bathroom, but there was no change in her complexion. Damn.

She managed to get back under the covers and wrap them around her head before Henry stirred. Bless her caring boy, he figured she was still asleep and moved quietly around the room as he got ready before gently shaking her “awake”. “Hey Mom, you want to get some breakfast?”

She had to feign sounding ill. “Sorry, kid; I’m not feeling the best,” she said weakly. “Maybe go see if Killian wants to go with you? And ask if you can hang out with him today?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just a stomach bug; I’m feeling a little green around the gills,” she said, then winced at the accuracy. “Give me a day and I should be fine.”

“Are you sure? Want me to get you some ginger ale?”

“Mm, maybe later; I just want to sleep right now.” Thank god her internal lie detector wasn’t hereditary.

“Alright,” he said, though he sounded uncertain. “I’ll check on you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she chuckled. “Have fun.”

She felt him press a kiss to the blanket wrapped around her head, then waited until she heard the door click shut to remove it. Hopefully, she could convince Granny to do delivery again.

Several minutes later, she was still sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling her phone absentmindedly (she’d been about to call Granny when she got distracted by a Facebook notification) when a sudden, insistent knock on the door made her jump and drop the device in her lap.

“Swan? Are you alright, love?”

Dammit. She should have known Hook would want to check up on her after Henry talked to him. Though, based on the way he’d been flirting with every other woman in town the last two days, she was mildly surprised.

“I’m fine,” she called back. “Just a stomach thing; I’ll be good by tomorrow. Can you watch Henry today?”

“Of course, but who’s going to look after you?”

She scoffed. “Me. I can take care of myself.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said softly; she almost didn’t hear it through the thin door.

“I’ve made it this far,” she bit back. “I’ll survive another day.”

“Can I bring you anything, then?”

“No!” she yelled, mostly out of panic; knowing him, he wouldn't be satisfied to leave her something without actually seeing her. “I’ll be fine; just—go.”

He sighed, and it wasn’t hard to imagine him hanging his head in frustration. “Can you at least open the door for a moment? Assuage my worries?”

She rolled her eyes. “You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I look super gross.” That part wasn’t entirely a lie, at least.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Trust me,” she lamented, looking over her chartreuse hand. “Seriously, just—take Henry fishing or something, or go hang out with Tink; I know you’d be happier hanging out with her.”

“Swan, you do realize that by insisting on my absence, I’m far more likely to want to stay?”

Emma groaned at his persistence and flopped back on the mattress, making her phone clatter to the floor.

“What was that? Hold on; I’m coming in.”

“No!” she shouted again, jumping up and running for the door. Henry hadn’t locked it so Hook had no trouble turning the knob. But she was on her feet immediately, and he’d only opened the door a few inches before she was slamming her whole body against it, forcing it shut.

“Emma, what the bloody hell is going on?”

“Nothing! Can’t I just have a day to myself?”

“If it were that simple, then why feign illness?”

“Well, I thought that meant people would leave me alone, but I guess I was wrong.” Who knew she’d long for the days when she didn’t have people looking out for her—but, more importantly, expecting her to save the day? She held her hand up, and sure enough, it turned another shade of green darker. At least she’d have good camouflage the next time she went into the forest.

“Perhaps it’s because people care about you,” Killian snapped. He may not have said it specifically, but they both knew he was referring to himself. “Have you considered that?”

“Yeah, well, maybe they care too much. The sooner they figure that out, the better.” She was being dramatic, she knew, but until she got over this thing, it’d be better to keep people at arm’s length.

“Swan,” he nearly whined. “You can’t possibly still think so little of yourself. There are so many people here who—”

“Don’t even start,” she cut off. “I’ve heard that hope speech before. But it’s not exactly something you can easily accept when your whole life, you’ve been some orphan freak. No one wants that.”

Well, now it was getting personal, it seemed. Why did he always have that way of cutting to the deep of her issues?

“You are not some ‘orphan freak’, love,” he replied, almost indignantly. “You are a fierce, strong—”

Okay. It was time to shut him up. Without even thinking, she swung the door open and finished his sentence for him. “Green-skinned weirdo?”

It was rare she was able to render him speechless; this situation wasn’t quite the confidence boost it normally would be, though. His jaw hung slack and she could see his eyes roving over what skin he could see (not much outside of her hoodie and sweats).

After an eternal several seconds, he closed his mouth and swallowed. Then, to her surprise, he gave her a smirk. “That’s quite the look, Swan—it rather complements your eyes.”

She rolled her eyes; of course he’d turn this into flirting, so she tried to close the door on him. But he stopped it with his hand. “Hold on, darling—might I come in? I suspect you don’t want to draw any wandering eyes into our forthcoming conversation.”

She hung her head; he was right—they needed to talk, but she didn’t want anyone else to see her. “Where’s Henry?”

“He’s downstairs with Ruby.”

She snorted. “Surprised you’re not there to properly teach him how to flirt.” It slipped out automatically.

“Beg your pardon?” Killian sounded slightly offended.

“You heard me,” she scoffed. “I saw you with her yesterday; I know you can’t resist her charms,” she replied, mimicking his accent (poorly).

His brow furrowed, but not in anything resembling the shame she wanted to see on his face; no, his eyes were wandering over her own face and neck in a way that made her feel exposed. She looked away, down at her feet, but that was when she noticed that the skin of her hand was yet darker. Dammit.

She just sighed and stepped aside, extending an arm to invite him in. He slipped into the room swiftly and quietly with a grace that she was doing her damnedest to not be envious of; surely there was a maximum on this thing? (Plants could only turn so green, right? Maybe this was a…chloroform? No, chlorophyll—thing. She’d never paid much attention in science class.)

She closed the door quickly behind him, and he turned to face her, his jacket swishing distractingly around his legs and making it seem like he was taking up more of the room than he actually did. Or maybe it was just the overall immensity of his presence in the room, or the weight of the tension between them.

“Is it safe to assume that this isn’t a cosmetics choice?” he started, gesturing at her face.

“Obviously,” she confirmed, rolling her eyes. “And last I checked, my foundation hadn’t gotten moldy.” Though she did need some more—she’d just about used hers up with all of this.

“Am I to gather, then, that it’s something a bit more…supernatural in its occurrence?”

“If that’s your fancy way of asking if it’s magic, then yeah; at least—I think so,” she shrugged. “I don’t know how or why it started all of a sudden, but every time I feel jealous, I get a little more…like this. Looking like the freaking Wicked Witch herself.”

“Do you think it was her?”

“I don’t know; maybe,” she huffed, then flopped down on the end of the bed. “I hadn’t exactly gotten that far. It’s not like I’ve really had a chance to think about the things happening to me. It’s as good a guess as any, but it doesn’t solve a damn thing.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he concurred, his voice gentle, and she could almost cry—it was the first time anyone had just simply agreed with her in nearly a week and let her vent. “What started it?”

She recounted as much as she could remember over the last couple of days—the little things, like wanting to sleep in or coveting a sandwich, and the bigger emotions from last night when it came to her parents and Henry. She couldn’t bring herself to mention anything regarding her emotions towards him, though.

He listened, but tilted his head when she was done. “That doesn’t seem like everything, love. I’m no expert on magic, but I know it involves emotion, and you haven’t described anything particularly deep.”

“What, seeing my parents getting ready to have the perfect life with their new baby isn’t a deep enough emotion? Why would they still want me around when they’ll have everything they ever wanted with that one?”

It was a cathartic release of everything she’d been holding in on that subject pretty much ever since they got back to town. Killian said nothing, just stared intently, seemingly inviting her to go on—so she did.

“And Henry—I’m so jealous of the fact that he doesn’t have to deal with all this magical bullshit, but even the fact that he’s missing those memories is magic in itself and…god, I wish I was still there with him. I miss our old life, and I feel like such an awful parent having to lie to him constantly here.

“And you!” she continued, now on a roll. “I’m still mad and a little heartbroken over the Walsh crap—absolutely not in the market for a new guy, at all—but you’re here and being all caring and I think, y’know, maybe? But then I see you flirting with Tink and Ruby and I just remember—why on earth would you want someone with all my baggage?”

She paused to catch her breath. Then, in a small voice, ended with, “And how much of an asshole am I for thinking all of this?”

She wasn’t prepared for whatever judgment was on Hook’s face, so she just fell backwards against the bed and threw her arm over her eyes.

No response came immediately, but then she felt a dip in the mattress near her and the springs squeaked as Hook took a seat a respectable distance away. “A completely normal one,” he finally said. “Perhaps even justified.”

She rolled her eyes, even if they were still hidden under her arm. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. It’s not uncommon for an older child to feel replaced by a younger one; even if the age gap is a bit more dramatic here, given the course of your life, it’s completely understandable. And it’s even more so that you miss what you and Henry had; even if it started falsely, the last year was real, and special, it sounds like.” There was a bittersweet edge to his voice at that, reminding her that he still hadn’t been fully honest with her regarding his past year. Not important now, though.

“And, love,” he went on. His careful fingers found her wrist and gently pulled her arm away from her face. She was hesitant to meet his gaze, but when she finally did, the condescending look she was expecting wasn’t there—only a small, almost insecure smile and understanding. “I don’t know why you’d think I’d be concerned about the complications of your past, when my own is significantly moreso—a fact of which I know you are aware.”

He had her there; it was no use to try to argue that fact.

“And when it hasn’t stopped me from admiring you thus far,” he added, a bit quickly—like he was blurting out a confession, even though he’d never exactly hid his feelings. She certainly hadn’t forgotten the Echo Cave, or their brief encounter prior to that. The one that meant a lot more than she’d told herself it did.

Although—she’d kind of just admitted as much, hadn’t she? She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as she blushed (and wondered what color it came up as).

“Yeah, well, I’m sure your daydreams didn’t include some green freak,” she countered, rolling on her side away from him and crossing her arms. Even if she had just accidentally admitted her feelings, that didn’t mean she was ready to pursue them right away. So back behind her walls it was.

“Emma,” he sighed, sounding almost exasperated. Good. He stood and stepped around her, looking down at where she was pouting. “Despite my care for my personal appearance, I’m not actually that shallow. I don’t give a damn what’s on your outside; your spirit and your soul are what’s beautiful to me. And don’t you dare doubt it for a second.”

She swallowed; he sounded genuinely angry, and she could see something resembling hurt within the fire in his gaze. She sat up. “You really mean that?” she asked quietly.

He sat down again next to her. “Bloody hell, love; how else can I convince you?”

Her entire body was suddenly aware of how close his was to her—even more than their moment in the woods the other day. She wasn’t sure if she was feeling heat from the adrenaline of their conversation, or just off of him, or both, but she found herself swaying ever so slightly closer to him, chasing it, until her face was hardly even an inch from his.

He was watching her carefully, his blue eyes taking her in under the studious set of his brow. She held his gaze, but then glanced at his mouth—and that was all it took.

Almost involuntarily, she leaned the rest of the way in and found his lips with hers. He stiffened at first, but only for a fraction of a second before leaning into her, his hand finding its way into her loose hair.

She hadn’t forgotten how skilled he was in this department, but it was a nice refresher; like their first time, she grabbed his jacket to get closer and deepen the kiss. His hand slid down, gripping her waist, and she felt his hook settle on her other hip.

And as they sat there making out, it was like a weight lifted off her—yeah, she was dealing with some pretty heavy feelings, but she didn’t need to feel guilty about it; she just needed to feel them, and then move on. The people that loved her would love her no matter what. She maybe wasn’t ready to admit that was what the situation was with Killian, but he was on her side—and that was enough.

And goddamn, could he kiss.

She couldn't help it—she was craving more and threw her leg over his lap to straddle him. But he wasn’t ready for that and ended up falling back on the mattress, bringing her with him. “Oh, shit—sorry!” she blurted out (while trying to catch her breath).

He just laughed, that deep chuckle that did nothing to tamper her growing arousal. “It’s plenty fine, love,” he wheezed, grinning with his eyes squinted shut.

She at least rolled to the side so she wasn’t crushing him while he tried to catch his breath, and couldn’t help but laugh a bit herself. Finally, he turned his head to her and opened his eyes, a soft expression settling over him. “There you are, Swan,” he said, reaching across and brushing her hair out of her face. “Looking more yourself already.”

Huh? She glanced at her hand where it had settled on his chest, temptingly close to the open vee of his tunic. It was back to its normal (probably too) pale color.

“Though I must admit, the green had been growing on me,” he quipped. She lightly slapped his chest where her hand rested. “You seem to be in better spirits, then,” he observed.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Thanks for getting me through that.”

“Anytime, love,” he said softly, and she knew he meant it.

So she kissed him again.

(Several times.) (And maybe a bit more than kiss.)

═══════════════

They did eventually meet back up with Henry, who had been hanging out with Ruby in the meantime. He might have given Emma a knowing smirk she pretended to ignore, but was mostly happy she was feeling better. (And later, when he got his memories back, was far too amused by the fact his mom was dating Captain Hook.)

She might have leaned a little bit harder into her parents’ hugs that week. And might have enjoyed a couple more grilled cheeses.

But the most satisfying moment came during an encounter with Zelena at Granny’s, once they knew she was their enemy. She looked at Emma and sneered. “Why aren’t you green?”

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Killian, who was giving her an encouraging smirk. “Guess I just didn’t let envy get the better of me. Better question is: why aren’t you?”

Zelena screamed in frustration and disappeared in a cloud of green smoke. They hadn’t beat her yet, but with everyone who loved her on her side, they were bound to yet.

Though if she took a few extra kisses from her pirate for moral support…that was her business.

═══════════════

thanks for reading! tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic @phiralovesloki @thisonesatellite @iverna @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @its-imperator-furiosa-default @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @the-darkdragonfly @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop @klynn-stormz @resident-of-storybrooke @deckerstarblanche

#cs ff #cs canon divergence #ouat 3b #ouat 3x14 #transformation #ish #my ff

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denimbex1986 · 11 months ago

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'THE BBC is under pressure today to apologise to Irish actor Andrew Scott after he was asked an “inappropriate” question about Barry Keoghan’s package at the Baftas.

Dubliner Barry was up for a gong for hit movie Saltburn.

And one of the standout moments in the flick sees him dancing naked through an empty house soundtracked by Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s classic pop hit Murder on the Dancefloor.

But there was anger on the red carpet at the Baftas when Andrew was asked about the dance by BBC entertainment correspondent Colin Paterson.

In a clip of the interview posted online, the BBC man asked the Irish star ”how well” he knows Barry and for his reaction when he saw “the naked dance at the end of Saltburn?”

However the BBC interviewer then continued: “There is a lot of talk about prosthetics. How well do you know him?”

To which an uncomfortable Andrew responds, waving the question away: “Too much, too much.”

Newstalk Reporter, Henry McKean, who was in London covering the awards at London’s Royal Festival Hall, claimed the incident cost other media their chance of talking to Andrew on the red carpet.

Henry told The Irish Sun: “Andrew walked away from us and I think he was annoyed over being asked such a lazy question. It was inappropriate.

“It was a bad line of questioning. It was one ill thought out question. Andrew clearly looked uncomfortable.

“I think this is one of the reasons why Cillian Murphy is gone off red carpets because sometimes journalists do ask silly questions.

“He could have asked Andrew Scott about Andrew Scott and the nominated perfect film All of Us Strangers. Not about Barry Keoghan’s package.”

UK theatre critic Mark Shenton added: “How utterly embarrassing is this BBC red carpet interview with the brilliant Andrew Scott.

“Andrew handles it with supreme tact – but why was he even asked this?”

Andrew was re-united with All Of Us Strangers co-star Paul Mescal, to present the Bafta for Best Animated Film during Sunday’s ceremony.

The BBC did not respond for comment.'

#BAFTAs #Andrew Scott #All of Us Strangers #Barry Keoghan #Saltburn #Paul Mescal

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eunchancorner · 2 months ago

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Tricks Turned Treats (Blended)

I realized I barely write for the FULL blended au so I finished one of my old wips (yes, it's a tickle fic)

Henry was stuck giggling nervously under Charles, holding the pilot’s wrists in his hands, struggling to push him off, if you could even call it that. The Head of his Aerial Assault Unit had him easily pinned to the floor, looking down at him with the most menacing smile that his cybernetic eye only aided in looking more sinister. How had he managed to get into this?

Oh wait, I remember.

It had started seemingly innocently. A knock on his door which had been said beloved pilot, offering a chat which Henry had enthusiastically agreed to. However, barely a minute into their chat Henry should have seen the signs. Charles’s hands were restless, drumming his fingers on the bed they sat on and occasionally swerving them around.

Roughly five minutes in, he expressed boredom and asked Henry to dance with him. In hindsight, the leader should have suspected trouble, but who was he to pass up a chance to be closer to the one he yearned for the affections of? One clumsy dance later, and Henry had been easily pushed and pinned to the floor, and that’s when Henry began to realize something was wrong.

“God, you’re so gullible sometimes, Henry,” the pilot had begun, “it’s a wonder you haven’t been tricked into a spacewalk without oxygen. Fortunately- well, fortunate for me, unfortunately for you- you’re also really cute when you laugh. Now, I’m not saying I’ll date you over how adorably bubbly it is, but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t add to your charm.”

“Charles, w-wait, what’s happening here?” the leader had interjected, looking up at his favorite pilot with a mixture of confusion, fear, and almost… excitement.

“Well, isn’t it obvious, Henry? I’m going to tickle you.”

Which, of course, led to where they are now; Henry trying to keep Charles’s hands away from his belly, and Charles slowly winning the battle with the most devious smile Henry had ever seen on him.

Henry could feel his dog-like tail wagging against the floor, trying his best to ignore it and focus on the hands slowly approaching his death spot, wishing he could wipe the flustered grin off his face that gave away just how much the anticipation was affecting him.

“C’mon, Henry~” the pilot cooed, “You know I’m stronger, and I can hear that tail wagging~”

“Sh-shuhut uhup! N-noho you cahan’t!” the leader tried to argue, his tone undermined by his own giggling.

“Wow, laughing already and I haven’t even touched you! Maybe Ellie was right, maybe you are really ticklish~”

Of course Ellie told him…

Henry should have known even telling Ellie he was ticklish, let alone actually letting her tickle him was a mistake, but she’d sworn that it’d at least stay in the circle, and Henry couldn’t deny, she’d kept her word. But sometimes, even in the circle was a little too much.

“N-noho! Sh-she lihied! I-I’m nohot! Ahand it’s nohot cute eheheither!”

“Well, I have to argue with that second part. It’s definitely cute, especially that smile, I mean, look at you! It’s just so bright and silly, and don’t tell me it’s not happy, because I can see right through that~”

“Sh-shut the fuhuck uhuhup!!”

“Excuse me? You’re the one in danger of being tickled to bits, and you’re telling me to shut up? Well, you’re as brave as ever, I’ll give you that. But bravery isn’t gonna stop me~”

“Fuhuck ohohoff!”

“One more time, Henry, and I’m not gonna hold back anymore.”

He’s holding back?!

“NOHO! Nononono juhust- Just lehemme goho, okahay?”

“Afraid that’s not an option here, Henry. Now, lemme give the puppy his tummy tickles~”

“Dohon’t call mehehe a puhuhuhuppy! Youhu’re suhuhuch an ahass!”

Wait. Wait fuck. Wait fuck no, Henry realized just moments too late.

“Well, I warned you,” Charles stated simply, before his cybernetic hand quickly snatched both of Henry’s, leaving his real hand to claw in the middle of his belly, pulling bright, squealing cackles from the leader.

“NOHOHO! WAHAHAHAIT! PLEHEHEHEASE!” the leader squealed, tugging at his hands. Charles did let them go, but as soon as he had, his newly freed hand was at Henry’s belly, poking and squishing and making him squeak in a way that was so embarrassing that he just had to cover his face.

“Aww, c’mon, don’t hide! You’re so loud and smiley and cute! Man, I should’ve tickled you sooner, I would’ve if I knew you’d be this adorable! Not just your face, but your waggly tail and your little kicky leg! This dog thing is really taking over, huh?”

MY LEG IS KICKING, TOO?!

Henry realized he’d been so focused on the ticklish energy overtaking his midsection that he hadn’t even felt that his leg was kicking, but sure enough, once he was made aware of it, he absolutely felt his boot stamping on the ground.

“DOHOHON’T LOHOHOOK!!” he pleaded, one hand grabbing Charles’s shirt to try to literally drag his attention away from his leg and tail.

“Why are you so embarrassed about it? It’s cute, and, as far as I’m aware, normal! Y’know, you’re a dog hybrid basically, and dogs like belly rubs, so I guess you're reacting well, even if you’re trying not to! Any you’re really trying not to, aren’t you? Y’know, you can just let yourself enjoy it, that’s always an option! I think it’d be nice to let go and just have fun, but, then again, that’s just me. Well, ‘just me’ is also your favorite person so, maybe listen to me~”

Henry would be a liar if he ever said that didn’t make him feel a little better about his current predicament. As embarrassing as it was to be stuck like this, it was also so weirdly fun and freeing to just laugh and kick and squeal, and hearing Charles acknowledge it made it seem oddly tempting.

He grabbed Charles’s wrists and gently shook them, waved a hand in his face, and made every gesture he could to ask for a break. The pilot, thankfully, took pity on him and paused, his hands still placed on Henry’s belly as the leader caught his breath.

“Oho… ohonly ihif you prohohomihihise… noho one knohohows… ehehever…” he managed between deep breaths, his giggles slowly calming. “Thihis… thihis stahays betweheen youhu and mehehehe…”

The cyborg chuckled softly above him.

“Now that’s something I can agree to. Granted, Ellie has to know I tickled you, but she doesn’t have to find out that you just took it,” he decided. “Or that you loved it so much~”

Just as Henry was about to protest against his teasing, the hands on his belly started to gently claw into where they rested, causing him to laugh before he was ready, gripping his sleeves to have some semblance of grounding.

But he didn’t fight back. He didn’t protest, he didn’t push or grab Charles’s hands. He let his leg kick and his tail wag, and he let himself laugh, even with how loud he knew it was. And as embarrassing as it was, it was so freeing to just let go and enjoy it. To be vulnerable like this with someone he loved so much.

And maybe that someone was starting to love him the same way.

#eun writes #thsc #henry stickmin tickle #henry stickmin #charles calvin #blended au

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