#you just think that Agatha is being an asshole when she says this line | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

larkral · 1 year ago

Note

Okay, reblogging Good at Something commentary on Chapter 3, from the commentary on chapter 2, Chapter 1 commentary can be found here (I remain bad at tumblr)

Commence the real romantic plot! Simon, have you considered that even the thought that Baz dropping you for Agatha makes you feel worse than you felt when Agatha broke up with you? Hmm. Something to think about, maybe.

This section was a bit of a beast to write. It was in my first draft, and originally came immediately after the music room blowjob. Which I do think worked okay, but it lands much harder after some more emotionally intimate moments, some more kindness between the two of them. They're starting to actually see each other, and Simon is justifiably gutted that he thinks what he was seeing wasn't real. Even if he is also very actively lying to himself about the whole scenario. Self delusion is one of his core competencies!

Anyway, why was it a beast: the decision about how to slice the sections was excruciating. No one reading this story could possibly think that Baz is going to end up with Ags, but Simon's emotional turmoil is real, and I didn't want to overshadow that. Also, writing Baz being an asshole to Agatha and Agatha coming on strong to Baz is so hard!! It's canonical, but in a way that's very temporally specific to that moment of Carry On, and it was difficult to get into either of their heads for that bare moment of dialogue. Which I don't think was necessary for the story, but was necessary for rhythm and pacing around Baz observing Simon in distress. wrote several versions of this inner-Baz voice: different settings, different levels of self-recrimination and this was the one that worked. Largely because it was fully contextualized.

Oh, hey, another scene I love: Penny talks to Simon. She provides exposition. I include some info about the visitors FOR NO REASON I'M SURE. (Did you notice the mention of how far into term we are in the first Simon section? No reason for that one, either. JK guys, it's October 21st, and thanks to @cutestkilla's timeline for that one. The veil is about to close. Get hype.) Again, I will be a broken record: this scene is so important to me!!! Penny is smart! She knows that Simon might be an asshole about Baz being gay from a completely non-homophobic place, because Simon is just that kinda way about Baz. But Penny doesn't know they've been being hella gay together all semester. Hilarious! Also this leads to one of my top lines in this story: "That's a relationship update. Baz and my relationship is a feud, and Penny hates feud updates." Lol, okay Simon, if you say so.

Here is where you get to learn about my silliest writerly foible: I just hate to say the dang thing. When a character is having a realization, specifically, I don't want to say what they're realizing. I want YOU to realize it alongside them. I want to gesture at the thing being realized and have you go "ah, yes, the character is having a realization". This foible is one that @petedavidsonscock is SPECIFICALLY good at yelling at me about. And she indeed yelled at me about Simon realizing that he's always been attracted to Baz. So that's why I said the dang thing here. Thank the moon and stars for Rain's wisdom.

Also here comes the section of the fic inspired by a note I wrote that just said "sucking on fingers (fingers+cock?), edging" Oh the work a question mark can do!! But oho, Simon wanking as a start to the scene is chefkiss! "I feel so fucking wide open" and "fucking fuck. Fuck yes." Both of those phrases are so good and I love them. But oh no, I'm edging you, reader, because we're going back in time to Baz being in his head about fucking it all up.

This is the segment where one of the themes of this story makes a really staunch appearance, and that theme is: Simon is treating blowing Baz as a mission. Sub-theme: this is actually a mission that's appropriate to his skill level and he's being given appropriate support in accomplishing it, as well as low pressure practice opportunities. That is actually what he needs. Baz and Simon are a bit wry and self-deprecating about this when it comes up, but that's just because that's who they are. Not because it's not true.

Which….just because he's learning doesn't mean he's learning everything. He is fully ready to let Baz fall right over for a second time, except Baz is a bit more self-aware than Simon and helps him out.

Anyway, uh, IMO leg over shoulder blowjob is objectively the hottest blowjob position. I dunno, just my opinion.

Oh yeah, here's the part where I once again yank the emotional chain. Truly this scene—where Baz comes out of his postcoital high into melancholy and anger and we know that he's wrong about what's happening, and he wants to blow Simon but thinks he's not allowed—this scene makes my chest tighten up and my stomach drop out of my body even though I fucking wrote it. And then the swoop, the resolution of that feeling. GODDAMN. It's the kind of moment in fic that I fucking live for. It's like a drug to me and I cannot handle that I wrote this.

Also, ugh, Baz giving Simon a blowjob is so tender and sweet, and "his beautiful handful of a dick" is the best description of a dick I have ever written, but listen, no, I can't dwell on it because the feelings tsunami is coming and I have to talk about it!

This!!! This scene with neck kissing and actual kissing, and the classic "and then he kisses me" line, and all of it, is a lot. And who could blame them both for thinking it's better than blowjobs? I kind of think so, too! I considered writing another kissing+blowjobs scene after this one and before the twist at the end of the chapter and I could not do it. Because then I'd have had to scrap the lines:

"Getting on my knees for Baz silences all the questions.

Kissing him answers them."

And what kind of human monster could give up those lines? Not me, that's for sure.

Everything in the end of this chapter is down to pacing. This is a moment when I really wanted to hang the reader in the possibility and potential in both of their minds, and have it come crashing down. (But not without a warm, hopeful note.)

Both of my betas on my initial draft of this scene were like: "WTF is happening?" Which is because I wrote Natasha's arrival much more subtly AND because I hadn't mentioned the timeline or the visitings at all previously in the story. So this scene changed only a bit (I believe the initial draft said something like "I hear a familiar voice as though through an open window" instead of "'Little puff…'"). But I made quite a few other changes to the story to make it make more sense.

Which!!!!! I did not set out planning to have this happen. This was the surprise plot! It surprised me. I was just trying to write a silly porn thing. And that's one cool thing about being a discovery writer: if you get to the end and need to go back to beef up foreshadowing or context, you can! This story also gave me a big insight into my writing process, which is: I am not a person who can comfortably post as I'm writing. This story was finished (except some planned/known edits and final polishing) before I posted a word of it, and that worked so much better for me than posting as a WIP, which I was simultaneously doing for A Dangerous Affinity. Good to know!!

Anyway, uh, yeah, also this is a moment when I'm trading on the reader's known context. I contemplated asking my wife to read this, but it's not a story that would be even a fraction as enjoyable if you didn't know canon (which she doesn't), and this moment is like 87% of why. I think there's something really delightful about writing something where the interplay between the known work and the work I'm writing creates something that's not there in either work on its own. It's something that's so specific to fandom in a way I truly am a bit insane for.

Okay, here concludes the third chapter directors cut/commentary. Tune in next chapter for a DOOZY. 😘

Directors cut ask—whatever chapter of Good at Something you want to talk about!

What's that? More Good at Something commentary? IF I MUST. (I'm going to. Y'all are going to get every chapter. It is decided) Here is my commentary on Chapter 2 of Good at Something. If you thought that the commentary on Chapter 1 was excessive, get ready for this. It's even longer! I have so many thoughts and here they are. Writing about writing: a thing I like to do

Good at something directors commentary on chapter two. Let's goooooo.

Okay, so I'm pretty sure that the main reason that I branched out from blowjobs in their dorm room was that the setting was beginning to lose interest for me, and I assumed that readers would be feeling similarly. Note: this was before I wrote the oft-opened-envelope scene, so I obviously walked that idea back.

Anyway, notice: the world continues apace despite the fellatio marathon these two are competing in.

Also notice: they're getting very familiar with each other. Making jokes! Simon pressing up against Baz's back in the hallway, tugging Baz towards him with his belt loops. The goal was that this section start to feel mutually warm in addition to being hot.

So, aside from a subtle shift in the intended vibe of their relationship, this scene stands out for me because it's got some rocking jokes. It's a very funny scene! "never lock a door with a boiled carrot" is a legit Irish idiom that I learned from a board game called Wise or Otherwise when I was probably 12, and I still think it's hilarious. Let it never be said that writers don't use every fucking thing in their lives as fodder. "Top marks for consent." (Yes, we're still grading the blowjobs!)

Next comes piano bench sex! Leg over the shoulder sex! Sex where balance is an issue because come the fuck on if you were being blown in the middle of a room and had nothing to lean against you too would stack it. I have a LOT of "smut needs a dose of realism" opinions, and this is one of them. Orgasms: not generally good for one's ability to stand unsupported.

Get ready for the broken record because….this scene is super hot. I adore it. It's an incredibly awkward scene as well, which for me makes it even better. They're figuring things out! The position they start in is really bad, and the position they end in is not much better! I did a lot more research than is reasonable to figure out if one could actually get into this position, and the position is precarious but still makes me think of a weighted blanket.

And!!! And! The most important part of this scene is the laughing. The fall and the laughing and the way that overwhelming joy can intersect with the bodily pleasure of sex, and how they're wiring those things together for each other. Even though they're still looking past each other, seeing something different in each other's reactions to the situation than they're experiencing, and both believing themselves to be the more invested one, they're getting there. (Though, my heart, when Simon thinks Baz was kind of amused and Baz is like: I have been bitten by a highyena. See prev point re: looking past each other.)

This scene also includes one of my favorite descriptions of Baz tangling his hands in Simon's hair: "My fingertips are just hidden under his curls." And then afterwards (and truly you will be aghast when I say I did not realize that I was doing this as I did it) Simon jerks off almost exclusively to Baz's tenderness with him, including HAIR TOUCHING.

I feel once again honor bound to mention my influences, and in this case the influence that led to Simon's come-eating is HP headcanon I invested 100% in after reading a drarry fic that lives rent free in my head even now: @firethesound 's begging (fair warning: part of an unfinished WIP, and a big part of the reason I no longer hesitate to read something that's a WIP. I'm glad I read it even if there's never more). The headcanon (which is my own invention, not even slightly mentioned in the above fic) is: as a pubescent child growing up in unfriendly circumstances, the easiest way to dispose of the evidence of masturbation is to eat it. And if that's a part of all of one's initial sexual experiences, it's something that's likely to continue into maturity. Not necessarily as a fetish (though I'm not saying *never* as a fetish), but as a part of what it means for a sexual experience to feel complete. For Simon Snow, a character with a canonical oral fixation, this feels like a no brainer. You're welcome.

Also in this scene: the very beginnings of plot!!! Simon's successful clean as a whistle came at the end of this scene, self-evident, fully formed in my brain, without any prompting. And is part of the reason I've started to really trust myself and my process as a discovery writer. Sometimes something I can't explain comes out of a story, and I know it's right because it feels right. It feels like what the characters would do, or feels like what happens in the story, and even if (as this was, intensely so) it's confusing and not what I think I'm doing here, not what I'm going for, not what I expected… sometimes it's just exactly where the story needs to go. In the last commentary I called Good at Something my magnum opus which is a bit of hyperbole, but also this story is my heart, and if I hadn't trusted the part of my brain that said "Simon does a clean as a whistle here, and it works" that wouldn't be true. This story wouldn't have gone where it went and I (perhaps, probably) wouldn't love it the way I do.

Aaaaand this is originally where the chapter ended! And we went from this directly into Simon sees Baz and Agatha talking in the dining hall. We have @petedavidsonscock and @facewithoutheart to that for the fact that it didn't, because after lengthy discussions with both of them, I formulated the potty/editing/re-writing plans that concluded in the Mage's office blowjob!

Baz's brain scene that follows does a lot of work, but the most important work is…they give weeks into the semester. Whyever would I be mentioning explicit timelines so frequently!? Can't say. Won't say. (You know why.) Also cements Baz's internal voice as snarky and hilarious. I love writing Baz's internal voice.

Fuck, okay, Mage's office blowjob may actually be strong competition for my favorite sex scene in this fic. It's just wrapped up in so much emotion!! And uh, it's also incredibly hot. So. Sooooo, okay. Here's where I reveal that I originally conceived this type of blowjob (facefucking/deepthroating) as the final sexy exchange of the fic. The blowjobs all have a genre in my mind, and this one seemed like the natural conclusion of the sexual evolution of this story. But also as I worked in that direction it just seemed incorrect. Yes, it's like, the boss level of the blow job video game, but it's absolutely not the boss level of Simon and Baz's relationship, especially given that it doesn't facilitate emotional intimacy, which is where they're heading. So here it is, the final exam in the blowjob seminar, coming midway through the story.

This chapter is full of my soapbox stands, it turns out, because I am OBSESSED with the fact that Simon isn't just bam immediately capable of deepthroating. As I said in response to a comment @bookish-bogwitch left on the fic: it's so important to me that it's not something he's innately capable of. This is a story about working at something and getting better at it. About built skill, and that includes Simon wanting to do something and working at it and getting there. As a result of that, I did too much research on what deepthroating is like and how you might achieve it. (My lived sexual experience has never involved a penis, so research is a firm necessity.)

Part of the reason this scene just incredibly does it for me is that they're both shaky and uncertain about how much of what they want they're going to get, and even so, they're going for it entirely. I think that's something that's characteristic of both Simon and Baz in relation to this scenario. Simon: going for it because he wants it until he realizes how much he needs it. Baz: going for it even though he thinks it'll destroy him, because he can't say no to how close it is to what he wants.

Also, hello, parallel between my writing process and the scenario I've put Simon in: he's learning to trust himself. It has cascading results! 🎉

And, oh man, okay, the end of this scene again references canon in a way that I am obsessed with as a part of fanfiction: Simon finds the book with a picture of Baz in it. He's gobsmacked by it. His reaction is so entirely changed by having begun to experience Baz in a different way, but it's also fundamentally similar. It gives me such a good feeling to think about moments in canon framed through changed circumstances in fic and vice versa. Different lenses on the same moments give such a deep view of these characters, perhaps even of humanity as a whole?

(Also, and this is getting excessively long so I'll keep this short, but the moment when Baz is getting dire about what he thinks Simon is going to do with the book and then Simon surprises him, that is a kind of emotional chain yanking that I absolutely fucking love when an author does it to me. Do other people feel that way? I don't know. But I did it to you anyway, as a treat.)

#good at something #my writing #writing about writing #epic navel gazing #smut

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Illicit Affairs - Rafe Cameron

Request: can i request a rafe x reader where she is john b's older sister? like they're trying to keep their relationship on the DL, but get tired of it after a year or so?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get to, just getting back into writing more regularly again.

The TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else ✰

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

Your brother had left you a text just before the news began cycling their storm watch, warning everyone to stay inside and be careful of Agatha, the incoming hurricane sitting off the coast of the Outer Banks. The text said simply that he and Pope were heading out to surf the surge. You texted back a ‘come back in one piece’ and sent the same sentiment to Pope before leaving the Chateau.

The hurricane should have warranted a reason to stay inside for both you and John B but you knew better than anyone that your dad’s disappearance had left him restless and grieving. Running into something seemed the only way he knew how to cope, even if that something was a massive hurricane. You were probably running into something too, if you were totally honest with yourself. And it was just as deadly as a category five storm.

A midyear rager at the boneyard, that lacked the usual buffer created by tourons in the spring and summer, meant more kooks, or just more kooks crossing the line onto pogue territory. Nothing that should’ve inspired any real issues, but Rafe Cameron was hovering closer to the keg than you would’ve liked so you took it upon yourself to move him.

“Don’t you guys have like...a yacht party or something you could go to?” You asked, stepping into the semi-circle Topper, Rafe, and Kelce had seemed to make. All three of them looked at you, Rafe’s eyes travelling over you appraisingly. You grimaced, “if my brother sees you hanging around-”

“What’s he gonna do?” Rafe challenged, “its a free beach.”

“You know the boneyard is on the cut.”

“What are you, beach patrol?” Kelce laughed. “Go bother someone else.”

“Just get off the cut...you aren’t welcome here.” You replied, stepping away from the three of them. You turned, heading away from the group in search of any of your friends, you knew that Rafe was right, you couldn’t actually kick anyone off the beach, but you also knew that John B had been in rare form since your dad died and seeing them would only give him an excuse to get himself into trouble.

You were practically a yard away from the keg when you felt someone grab the waistband of your shorts. Turning, you jerked away from them and slammed your hand against their wrist.

“Shit, those self-defense lessons at the club really paid off.” Rafe commented, rubbing his wrist.

“What do you want Rafe?”

Ever since you had taken the job at the island club it had become Rafe Cameron’s personal mission to drive you crazy. He seemed hellbent on bothering you on a near constant level. At least away from work you rarely had to see him, this night being a rare and unwelcome exception.

“Have you thought about-”

“No.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. In the last two weeks he’d asked you out nearly a dozen times. You always said no but you were all to aware of that split second before the no when you considered saying yes. It was just John B that held you back. If anyone in the world took the pogue/kook shit seriously, it was your brother and his friends. There was no way they would be cool with you dating Rafe Cameron.

“Just one date...you don’t have to tell anyone. If that’s the issue?” He suggested, as if he could read your mind.

“Maybe the issue is that I don’t like you.” You challenged, watching the way he smiled, knowing that he knew you were bullshitting him. You wanted to wipe the smug grin off his face.

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” He replied.

You wanted some brilliant comeback to throw back at him but when you opened your mouth the only thing that came out was, “do you even date?”

“For you I’d make an exception. We could go over to Chapel Hill if you’re worried about your brother.” He offered, always ready with an answer.

You were worried about John B, he would be livid. He was so consumed with the idea that your dad was out there somewhere, stranded at sea and people should be looking for him. You had been placating him since Peterkin told you that he was lost at sea, presumed dead, but in all honesty, you had moved on already. Maybe it was heartless but you weren’t fooled into believing that the loss of your dad was a tragedy.

“Let me show you a good time,” Rafe said, hooking a finger through the belt loop of your shorts and moving closer to you.

“You can try,” you said, pulling away from him, “but I doubt it’ll work.”

You should have known then, even as you agreed to the date, that there was no need to try on Rafe’s part. He was an asshole sometimes but you had certainly never been accused of having great taste in guys. That might have been the most surprising thing about Rafe, not that he was exactly the kind of guy you would usually go for on paper, but that off paper, behind closed doors, he was different. Softer. It made sneaking around the island to see him completely worth it.

And as Agatha bared down on the island, the decision to drive to his house as the hurricane was on the horizon seemed like a good one. It was already raining heavily when you parked your car two houses down from his, walking through the downpour to Tanney Hill. The power on the cut was on its way out, you’d driven passed already dark houses and you were sure the Chateau had lost power by now. The eight seemed to be hanging onto its power and the lights on the patio flickered as you knocked on the door.

Wheezie, the sole secret keeper of your very secret tryst with Rafe, was the one who opened the door. Though you knew she had a tendency to double cross people, so far, she hadn’t told anyone about the two of you, a possible record in her books, and you couldn’t help being thankful. As much as you hated sneaking around, there was no way John B was going to take this development in your life lightly.

“My brother’s upstairs.” Wheezie supplied, pushing the door wide enough that you could walk through.

“Thanks,” you skirted passed her, taking the steps two at a time and heading down the hall to Rafe’s closed door. Wheezie had decorated hers with a wooden sign and Sarah’s had a cork board on it. Rafe’s was always blank though, just a plain white door that blended in with everything else in the hallway.

You didn’t bother knocking on the door, pushing it open. Rafe was laying on his bed, eyes fixed on his phone, the sound of the stereo playing some R&B song you weren’t entirely familiar with. When the door opened, he turned his head to the side, confused for a split second before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” He asked, already reaching his hand out to pull you closer as you walked over to him. He grabbed the zipper of your hoodie and tugged, getting you to step between his legs.

“John B’s surfing with Pope and JJ’s still at work so I figured I’d sneak out and come over. See how you rich folk are faring in this storm.” You teased.

He hummed, nodding, as he placed his hands on your hips. “Your concern is overwhelming,” he laughed, tilting his head up so that you would lean forward and kiss him. You complied, placing your hands on the sides of his face as you did. When you pulled away, he smiled, “you should stay over.”

“My brother will freak out if he gets home and I’m gone.” You replied, stepping away from Rafe just so that you could climb on his bed, pushing his phone away to make yourself comfortable.

Rafe opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and shaking his head, going with a simple, “I doubt he’ll notice.”

“That a massive storm is slamming into the coast and his sister is missing from the house at the peak of it? Give my brother a little more credit babe, he’ll notice that I'm gone.” You replied.

“Then tell him you’re here and you’ll see him in the morning.” Rafe said, turning to face you. He put his hands on your ankles as if he was grounding you there, “You know this sneaking around thing is shit.”

Whenever Rafe wanted you to do something that you didn’t particularly want to do, like stay the night at his house or go somewhere that someone might see you, he always claimed to think that sneaking around was shit. A circumstance of the relationship that he hated when it was convenient to him, you knew as well as he did that admitting to anyone that you were dating was something neither of you had the luxury of doing.

“I can’t, he’ll freak out.” You replied, “this is just...a difficult time for him and he doesn’t need any new issues.”

Rafe fell back onto the bed, turning his head to look at you, “he’s 16, he doesn’t need you to hold his hand through every little thing.”

“I’m not ‘holding his hand’ Rafe, he’s my little brother, I’m worried about him.” You reasoned.

“Yeah, maybe, but here you are. Every free moment you get you spend here...this isn’t just an escape when you don’t feel like dealing with your brother and his antics. You know John B and his friends aren’t my favorite people but I’ve kept my mouth shut about them. I think the least you could do is be honest with yourself...I know you want to tell him, you wouldn’t have come here in the middle of the storm-”

“I wanted to see how you guys were doing.”

“Bullshit.” Rafe replied, “you know it’s getting worse out there and there’s no fucking way I’m letting you drive back to the cut in this weather.”

You sighed, you had known that Rafe wouldn’t let you leave once you got here. They were already advising people to stay inside and not leave the house when you decided to drive to the eight, there was no way it was safe to be out. And there was no way Rafe was going to let you risk your safety driving all over the island because John B might get upset that you weren’t home.

“I know.”

“So text him, tell him you’re staying at a friend’s.” Rafe urged, “it doesn’t have to be my house...you can tell him that when you’re ready.” he conceded.

“I’ll tell him soon. I don’t like sneaking around,” you admitted, pulling your phone from your pocket and texting John B that you had gone to a friend’s house for the night and would be home once the storm passed. You sent a mirrored text to JJ, in case he was already at the Chateau, before laying your phone on the nightstand. “I don’t want us to be a secret...it’s just, complicated.”

“I know, trust me.” Rafe sat up, scooting closer to you on the bed so that he could kiss you. Keeping this secret forever was impossible, you’d have to come clean soon and Rafe was right, you had been handling John B with kid gloves ever since you had found out that your dad was dead. Telling him you were dating a kook, and Rafe at that, was an unavoidable conversation that you had been trying not to have for the past year almost. And every time you stepped out of the house you considered telling him all over again. Eventually you’d give, but it didn’t have to be tonight.

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meggtheegg · 3 years ago

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evan hansen, sam wilson, & wanda maximov?

ohh man this one's gonna get long so i'll put it under a read more :D

evan:

favorite thing about them

his sincere desire to make sure everyone is okay. half of his problems stem from that one need, but it's ultimately what makes him set things right, too.

least favorite thing about them

there are many obvious character flaws that i could point out, but the most overlooked one is that he goes off his fucking meds without telling anyone that shit is dangerous and should not be treated as anything but that.

favorite line

"dear evan hansen, today is going to be a good day and here's why. because today, no matter what else, today at least you're you. no hiding. no lying. just... you. and that's. that's enough. maybe someday, everything that happened will all feel like a distant memory. maybe someday no one will remember about the connor project. or me. maybe someday, some other kid is going to be standing here, staring out at the trees, feeling so...alone, wondering if maybe the world might look different from all the way up there. better. and maybe he'll start climbing, one branch at a time, and he'll keep going. even when it seems like he can't find another foothold. even when it feels... hopeless. like everything is telling him to let go. this time...maybe this time, he won't let go. he'll just hold on...and keep going. he'll keep going until he sees the sun."

brOTP

evan and zoe should be friends, and even if that's super unrealistic, i will still hold onto that

OTP

evan x going back on his gosh darn meds

nOTP

i've never really seen an evan ship that bothers me, actually

random headcanon

i've said it a million times and i will say it again, this kid has autism, and no one will ever convince me otherwise (side-eyes steven levenson and ben platt)

unpopular opinion

evan is neither a horrible kid or a smol uwu anxious bean. he's a mentally ill teenager, who should be treated with the nuance and understanding that deserves.

also, the kiss at the end of ywbf kills all the emotion and power of the song so quickly, why has it not been taken out yet

song i associate with them

kill the ghost - motherfolk

favorite picture of them

(i am so sorry, i had to share this picture with the world it makes me laugh every time)

sam:

favorite thing about them

what is there not to love about sam wilson, honestly? if i have to pick something, it's probably his adaptability. captain america trolling him on his morning run? okay, let's talk to him about his trauma. he and black widow show up at his door saying everyone's trying to kill them? let them in and make them breakfast, if they eat that kind of thing. being hunted by some masked assassin? time to bring a knife to a gunfight and win, i guess. the masked assassin is cap's best friend? well, time to drop everything and search the world for him and become an avenger. superheroes have to register with the government, now? well, guess it's time to become a fugitive and go on the run for a few years. cap is an old man, half the world has gone on without him for five years, and now he's supposed to be captain america? well, he'll hesitate to take up the mantle, but good for steve. the masked assassin that tried to kill him is part of his found family now? sure, whatever. invite him to the cookout. i think that literally nothing could surprise this man, by now, and he just keeps doing what he feels is right without even stopping to question it.

least favorite thing about them

honestly, i don't even know. some of the stuff he says to bucky feels uncharacteristically unsympathetic, in civil war and the beginning of tfatws, but also like,,,usually he's not wrong, he's just kind of blunt about it??? idk man i love sam wilson.

oh, and i guess the cowl on his cap suit looks kinda dumb and uncomfortable

favorite line

"the only power i have is that i believe we can do better."

that's sam summed up in one line, right there. he's a normal guy surrounded by superheroes and yet he holds his own and stands out because he's so sincere and dedicated and good that it doesn't even matter

brOTP

sam and steve. we should've gotten more of them hanging out, honestly. they were great together.

OTP

sambucky, baybee! for all the reasons i listed in my answer for bucky :)

nOTP

another one i can't think of anything for. i guess sam/tony, if anyone ships that???

random headcanon

sam was actually pretty quiet, as a kid. he kind of let sarah do the talking for him. it wasn't until they got older that he started becoming more talkative and developing his sense of humor

unpopular opinion

sam did make mistakes in tfatws. bucky wasn't the only one to screw up. that was what made their reconciliation so nice. yeah, bucky was being way more of an asshole about the shield than sam was about anything, but that doesn't mean he was perfect 100% of the time, and that's good. that's what makes him human and relatable.

song i associate with them

come on, there's no way i can't say trouble man, here.

favorite picture of them

wanda

favorite thing about them

her gentle kindness. especially in civil war, there's something so soft and genuine about her that's just immediately endearing.

least favorite thing about them

the way that closing scene in wandavision implied she still may become a villain, despite having that option and rejecting it at the cost of her family, earlier that same episode. it just felt...wrong.

favorite line

"i can't control their fear. only my own."

i probably quote this line way too often. it's just....chef's kiss

(honorable mention goes to: "I don't even know who you are." "You will.")

brOTP

i so wish agatha hadn't become a one-dimensional villain in the last episode, because their friendship, however fake, was really sweet.

but also her friendship with the rest of team cap, especially steve, was also really lovely and i wish we could've gotten more of that

OTP

🎶WANDAVISION, WA-WANDAVISION, WANDAVISION WA-WANDAVISION...WANDAVISION!!"🎶

nOTP

wanda/pietro....just...ew....

random headcanon

despite her love for the genre, the two sitcoms she could never watch were alf and gilligan's island. the themes of being trapped somewhere without your family, no matter how funny the circumstances, just hit too close to home.

unpopular opinion

they shouldn't have aged wanda up to match lizzie's actual age. i know it was never officially stated anywhere until wandavision, but in aou and civil war, she was heavily implied to be a teenager, and honestly, that would've made everything about her character both hit harder and make way more sense. she could have been in her late teens-early 20s by the time wandavision rolled around, but having her in her late 20s-early 30s just doesn't fit all the comments about her being a kid/going to high school/etc. making her younger would mean that her decision to join hydra was the misinformed decision of a traumatized teenager, rather than a grown woman, and could have tied into tfatws and karli, which could then expand into an actual examination of why young people are willing to go to such extremes to make change and that could have been really interesting.

song i associate with them

razzmatazz - i don't know how but they found me

favorite picture of them

#elle i adore you this was fun

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.9 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting a chance to meet the local Sheriff and to say he is not excited would be an understatement.

Read chapter 9: ‘Addressing the Public’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

For his first day off from the grocery, today sure seemed like it was determined to make its mark so he couldn’t possibly forget it. At this point, it was about burned into Stretch’s memory, for sure.

First there was Doris who added her clues into his trick r treat bucket, then the town assholes showed up for their serial killer practice. Then, as a treat, he got to have the double punch of a lunch with Edge, a sweet and sour mixture of possibly flirtatious revelations coupled to an unwanted chat about his own traumas, served warm over some delicious pie.

Now it looked like he was about to get a sequel to the Assholes: Part Deux, the Assholes’ Revenge, in the form of a sheriff filled with blustering indignation and accusations, and all Stretch had was a mouthful of pie to defend himself. Worse, his only witness had already paid the bill and left.

Stretch swallowed his last bite, chasing it down with water when it tried to stick in the back of his throat as he went over possibilities. He could try to explain the situation, but if there was one thing he’d learned from living in Ebott, it was that if a Monster was talking to the cops, it was best to keep it short, sweet, and polite. Don’t try to explain or admit to shit, ‘cause they’d be more than happy to add another line to the list of things to harass you about.

Seriously, he missed being able to shortcut, this whole facing trouble head-on thing wasn’t for him.

The sheriff huffed again, loudly, and it fluffed up his broad mustache like a human-shaped walrus. He propped fists about the size of a baby’s head on his broad hips and growled out, “So? Is that it? You’re here startin’ some trouble in my peaceful little town?”

Stretch looked up into those mirrored sunglasses. If they were standing, Stretch would probably have a couple inches on the guy, but sitting here in the booth the sheriff loomed over him ominously, his own distorted reflection showing back his nervous face.

“no, sir,” Stretch said politely. Stick with the basic, that was good for a start, and hopefully Red would be willing to bail him out if that became necessary. At least Red wouldn’t have far to go.

The rest of the diner was staring, not a single fork was engaged as they watched the latest scene in the town drama unfold. Not that he blamed them, this was probably about the most action they’d seen in weeks, but he did sort of wish someone would be a little concerned rather than eagerly interested. Waiting to see if maybe the local sheriff was gonna slap on some cuffs so they could whip out their phones for a nice tiktok video while he was getting read his rights?

“No?” the sheriff demanded. His sunglasses reflected the overhead light, making Stretch wince back. “I heard you were out there riling up the corn yesterday. And today you were playing dog days with the doggerel boys?”

That was true, except how it wasn’t, and a trickle of sweat was winding its way down Stretch’s spine despite the air conditioning. Before he could wheeze out another ‘no sir’ or any other answer at all, a sudden, booming laugh filled the entire diner, loud enough to echo from the greasy grill before rolling back out to rattle the windows. The sheriff hooked his thumbs into a belt with a buckle so big that could probably double as a satellite dish, guffawing loudly, “Aw, you ain’t in any trouble, I’m just joshing ya, boy!”

Oh. Ohhhh, this was only a little goodnatured small-town hazing, that he could deal with, if he managed to swallow his quivering soul back down where it belonged. Stretch tried on a smile to match the sheriff’s ongoing laughter and found that it fit pretty well, all things considered.

“can’t be joshing, my name is stretch,” Stretch said with cautious humor. “but i guess stretching me would be an entirely different meaning. think they gave that one up in the middle ages.”

The sheriff bellowed out another laugh that practically shook the silverware, actually bending over to give his knee a loud slap. Around them rose other chuckles around mouthfuls of pie and how strange was it that he could feel the difference between people laughing at him and laughing with him. There was a certain fondness in that laughter, in the warm expressions coming his way from townsfolk that he sort of knew; these were people who’d bought their toilet paper and fresh apples from him on any given day, who’d give him waves and smiles when he passed them on the sidewalk and maybe it was an unusual form of kindness, but their humor still made unexpected tears prick in his sockets.

Stretch grabbed his napkin and dabbed hastily at his face as if he were wiping away sweat before anyone could see and misunderstand. How could he explain to them that in all his life, he’d never felt such a wash of overwhelming fondness from anyone except maybe his own brother.

(Not even from the person who’d told him so often and so tenderly that he loved him…until he didn’t, fucking hell, he wasn’t thinking about that right now, he wasn’t.)

The sheriff was obviously no fool and already his expression was softening into remorse, maybe coming up with an apology that Stretch desperately did not want, not for this. Rescue came almost too late and from an entirely unexpected source. Granny Collemore was so short Stretch could only see her steel-gray hair piled up in a messy bun over the top of the booth as she approached, but he heard her hollering well enough.

“Buford, you let that poor boy alone!” There was a smacking sound of a cane hitting flesh and Stretch couldn’t see where the blow struck, but the sheriff, Buford, let out a yelp, hopping on one foot as he frantically rubbed his shin.

“Sam Hill, granny, I was only playin!” he grumbled. He pulled up the leg of his trousers to examine his granny-inflicted wound. There was a reddened welt on the skin, already shading to purple.

“You hush yourself,” Granny huffed, “I’m half-past give-a-shit today and you may be the sheriff in these parts, but you ain’t too old for a hiding!” Granny shuffled into view, her cane hooked over one arm. She reached out with her wrinkled hands and Stretch leaned over obediently to let her to cup his face gently in her palms as she clucked with concern. “Does he look like he’s up for your shenanigans?” she groused loudly, “‘specially since this feller is working over at the grocery with Red, bless his heart.”

“That a fact?” Buford pushed his hat up and offered a crooked smile. “Must be a brave soul, then. Well, you tell that sonavabitch I’m gunning for him this Sunday. He better be there with silver bells on and you tell him that whatever aces are up his sleeves, better make sure they ain’t spades, ‘cause that’s the reverend’s favorite cheat.”

“i’ll do that,” Stretch agreed, a touch bewildered. Hell, he’d thought Red was joking when he said the sheriff was his poker buddy.

That sounded like an exit line, it was starting to look like Stretch was going to make it out of here unscathed, and he might have if Granny hadn’t put in, happily, “Anyhoo, Buford, you just miss seeing Edge. He was here sharing a slice of pie with our new fella.”

Dark eyebrows rose up over those mirrored lenses and Buford hooted a laugh, “Oho, that how it is. On a date with our Edge, were ya.”

Great, that was exactly what he didn’t want getting back to Red. Enjoying a little flirting was one thing, but not if it started the wheels of the gossip train turning. With his luck, it would crash right into a dumpster fire. “uh, no, no dates, just pie.”

He did not expect Buford to suddenly look a little offended, those eyebrows drawing down into a frown behind his glasses. “Why in the Sam Hill not? Ain’t he your type?”

“Uh.” Stretch looked around a little wildly, away from Granny and Buford to see the rest of the diner was still watching them with interest. No, not just interest, there was an awful lot of sly looks there and whispering behind hands, along with soft expressions and doe-eyes…

Oh. Oh, shit, it was worse than he thought. They were invested, everyone in this diner was taking sides and they were choosing the romance option, this was bad, this sort of thing was infectious and the last thing he needed right now was an entire town of matchmakers trying to hook him up with the local hottie. It was like an unsolved Agatha Christie took a sudden, sideways turn into a Hallmark Gyftmas movie.

Buford and the rest of the diner were all waiting for him to explain why he and Edge weren’t dating and Stretch was sitting here, fumbling around at the pass.

“we’re not dating, we’re just—” Stretch coughed awkwardly, hesitating. The truth was ‘it’s complicated’ was probably most accurate, although ‘barely met acquaintances’ was a close second, or even the generic, ‘he’s my boss’s baby bro whose ass i am definitely not staring whenever i see him but also his smile is really nice and—' “—friends,” Stretch finished, lamely.

Buford nodded like he’d offered not a nugget of wisdom, but an entire ten-piece with the tangy sauce. The light reflected in his mirrored gaze as he said, kindly, “That ain’t a bad thing.”

Relieved, Stretch let out an unsteady laugh, “kinda surprised you don't think i'm a cousin or something.”

Buford snorted loudly at that, “Son, you boys don't look a thing alike.”

And that there was another surprise to add to his daily total. In Ebott, Stretch was constantly getting mistaken for Papyrus or Sans, even his own brother once or twice. Half the time, people either didn’t know his name or didn’t care to, and Backwater was a strange place, no question, but that sure didn’t mean it was bad.

Buford didn’t seem to notice his shock as he went on, “Now there’s a boy who could use some en-ter-tainment. Works too hard, damned if he don’t.”

Now that was a clue looking him right in the face and Stretch took the Velma leap and pounced on it, trying for a little discreet nonchalance, “yeah? what does he work so hard at?”

A shame Buford seemed to be pretty quick on the draw. He gave Stretch a shrewd look, “He ain’t told you?”

“no, sir,” Stretch sighed glumly. Seriously, he was the worst Velma ever.

Buford went ahead and poured salt into the open wound with another short laugh, “Naw, I’ll ain’t stepping in that cow pie. I’ll let him talk to ya about that. But see if you can’t get him to slow down for another--” Buford gave him a sly wink and actually hooked his thick fingers into air quotes, “’friend date’, wontcha?”

Then he grunted as Granny Collemore jammed her elbow into his soft gut, tutting loudly, “You never did shake the ants outta your pants did you, Buford! Let those boys alone, they'll go at their own pace.” To Stretch she offered sunny, toothless grin, “Come on, and walk an old lady out.”

“yes, ma’am,” Stretch said. Hey, he might be an idiot, but he was no fool. He stood up, ready to make his getaway, halted only briefly by Buford snatching up his hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake, though his grip was gentle on the delicate bones.

“Welcome to town, Stretch,” Buford told him. For once he was completely serious as he said, low, “and don’t you worry about those boys.” He tapped the side of his nose, his broad finger reflected in his sunglasses. “I know what happened, it’ll be taken care of.”

“i appreciate that,” Stretch said, and he meant it. He turned and followed after Granny, only dodging ahead to hold up the door so she could shuffle out.

“Thank you, sonny,” Granny huffed as she made her slow way through the door. “These old bones ain’t as spry as yours. You should head on home now, there's a storm a’comin'."

Stretch looked up into the cloudless sky in confusion, greeted by endless blue.

“Oh, you can trust me," Granny grimaced and rubbed at her hip, "these joints don't lie."

“i will,” Stretch agreed. After his lesson with the corn, he was taking the townsfolk at their word and if granny said a storm was heading this way, he expected to see clouds blowing in any minute now.

He left Granny to make her way home and headed back to the store. Red only grunted when he came in, didn’t even look up from his book as he hooked an absent thumb towards his apartment. There was a bag sitting on the table and when Stretch looked inside, there was a sandwich neatly covered in plastic wrap, a bag of chisps, and a bottle of juice. He was still full up on pie, but it would make for a nice, simple dinner, good thing he had Red up there looking after him. Maybe he should suggest to Red that he get a tattoo, a nice heart engraved on his arm with ‘Mom’ in the middle, since now he had one.

Stretch took the bag upstairs with him and opened the window. He took a moment to breathe in the already cooling air, a herald to the coming storm.

The book was sitting where he’d left it last night when he’d dragged himself off Red’s sofa, limbs spaghettied from sleep and his mind noodly mush. He’d brought the book along without even thinking about it and now the hardcover seemed to mock him with the necessary knowledge hidden somewhere within those pages.

Welp, there was only one way he was gonna get the info out of it and that didn’t mean beating it against his skull until the words shook out. He picked it up and settled to sit cross-legged on the bed, bracing himself for what might well be hours of boredom as he turned it to the first page.

And frowned. At the top of the page was a family name, ‘Anderson’, along with the date, ‘1884’. There was a short selection of first names beneath it and next to each was what looked like a telephone number and an address.

“what the hell?” Stretch muttered. He flipped to the second page and it was the same thing, only the name was ‘Armstrong’ and there were a lot more first names to go with it, someone was getting busy on the weekends, for sure.

Stretch flipped to the next page, and the next. All of them had the same thing, a last name, then a collection of firsts with a number and an address. Finally, he flipped back to the title page. There, right underneath the scrolling text declaring the book ‘The Informal History of Backwater’ was a tiny addition he hadn’t noticed before, stating in a small, stark font, ‘Municipal Directory.’

For a long moment, Stretch could only stare at it, until the words started floating in his sight. Laughter bubbled up suddenly, fizzing in him like a shaken soda. "sonofabitch," Stretch burst out, snickering madly. The damn thing was a glorified telephone book and Edge had flat-out given him his damned address already, practically gift-wrapped it! And he'd almost refused to take the damn thing! Guy wasn't only sexy, he had jokes and if he wasn't already a treat to the senses, that would have upgraded him to a bone-ified snack.

Address had to be in here, all Stretch needed to do was find it. The book was bigger than he would’ve thought from a small town, but from the look of it, they never took anyone out, only kept adding on. Occasionally next to a name he saw an abbreviated ‘dec.,’ so maybe this was a bit of town history, after all, kind of a family tree, anyway.

It still took him awhile to find their names, flipping through the book. The names were alphabetized, but that didn’t help much when the family he was looking for didn’t have a last name. Finally, under the surname ‘Skeleton’, he found them.

“should’ve tried that to begin with,” Stretch muttered. He read the entry, following along with his finger, only to pause in confusion when it came to the date recorded neatly by their names. It listed them as arriving in town over a decade ago and if that was when they came to Backwater, then whoever printed this needed to proofread a little better, because that was impossible. Monsters had only been on the surface for a couple years, not quite three now, so it had to be a mistake.

Except, Edge struck him as the kind of guy who was pedantic enough that there was no way he wouldn’t bitch until it was fixed; anyone who ate their pie like it was a military maneuver wouldn’t be able to stand such an egregious error. And he’d made sure to give Stretch the book, so he damn well knew he’d be seeing this. So what the hell did all this mean?

What did any of this mean?

Stretch sank back against the wall behind him, tipping his head up so he could stare at the ceiling. There was a crack in the plaster in one the corner, spidering off into a shape like a lightning bolt and that was exactly what Stretch felt like he’d been struck with.

What the hell was this place? Some kind of fairytale, where one day in town was a week on the outside? If he hopped on another bus and made his way to the next town over, would the papers tell him it was next Tuesday or the next century?

It was enough to inspire him to check his messages. Stretch fumbled for his phone, opening the text app for the first time in days. The amount of alerts made him wince but it was the last message that roused that endless ache in his soul back up to true pain.

I understand that you’re hurting, brother. You don’t have to tell me where you are. You don’t even have to call. All I ask is you send me a message every once in a while to let me know you’re all right. Please.

Stretch closed his sockets and swallowed against the sudden knot in his throat. Before he could rethink it, he typed a hasty, i’m all right and sent it, then lurched over to shove his phone into the nightstand drawer, slamming it shut.

Even so, he couldn’t help listening, straining to hear but there was no vibrating buzz, nothing to indicate a return message.

Good enough.

Stretch took a deep, shaky breath, then dragged the book back over and studied the entry again. Red’s address was the store, no surprises there, but Edge was listed under 637 Wood’s End Drive.

Wood’s End. Seriously?

Welp, it was one mystery solved, anyway, even if he’d skipped the meddling kids part. Now all he needed was to plan a field trip.

A sudden flash of lightning lit the room, putting the fake bolt on his ceiling to bitter shame and the sky outside seemed to burst, rain pouring down and pelting through his open window. Stretch scrambled over to slam it closed, shaking away the damp on his hands. All the sunshine from earlier was gone, the sky darkened into angry, swirling storm clouds as the downpour drenched the parched earth.

Yeah, field trip was postponed on account of rain, but not for long. He’d get there and maybe once he showed up on Edge’s doorstep, he’d finally get some real answers.

For now, though, all Stretch wanted was a towel.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

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joe-maristopher · 4 years ago

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«WandaVision»: 8. Release your trauma

If you ask me what I think about the episode but briefly and without the details... It may seem strange but I will just quote the dialogue from Sponge Bob:

— SpongeBob, what are you doing? — I'm crying my eyes out.

I guess that's the number of tears I've shed all season (God, what's going to happen on the last episode?) you can moisten some part of the Sahara, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. In the modern russian language, you can find the expression "eat glass", as well as its variety. I don't know, if there is such a thing in english with the same emotional coloring, but in any case, now you know what russians can say, discussing something absolutely heartbreaking and at the same time so beautiful, so it is difficult to stop �� you can only just watch, if it's a movie or the tv-series, and cry. A somewhat complex explanation, in practice, it is difficult to convey the language shades when you use them intuitively.

Ah, Agatha. Let's talk about her first.

Think about it! She lived for herself, studied, tried, drank power from others (I understood her flashback this way), poked her nose where she was not asked to, and then she sensed a huge power. The nugget. A young woman, who has never learned magic, but uses it! What a slap in the face! No wonder she has a crush on Wanda, or whoever's running her has a crush on Wanda. And Agatha makes Wanda not just a Scarlet Witch, she forges a real villain. Re traumatization is not psychotherapy, you know, it is a way to bring a person to a certain point. The very journey of Wanda in her memory reminds me of Dickens, and also gave a lot of interesting things. Plus, added reasons to cry (for me and other empathic human beings).

Sooo..

I can say "I was right!", if we talk about Wanda and sitcoms. Mostly, I was. This is not just a sitcom, it means more!

The fans' dream came true, even two: The Stone strengthened/activated Wanda's original powers. But! Wanda wasn't called a mutant. Wanda was called the Scarlet Witch (a friendly reminder: it is a mantle, technically, it can be passed to someone else, if, for example, Wanda dies).

The Mind Stone showed the beautiful vision. There's no need to even analyse it. You can just watch and admire. Wanda, without realizing, also made a reference to it, changing into a Scarlet Witch costume for Halloween.

Thank you, now we know why Vision doesn't remember anything. *sobs*

I really, really miss our Vision, alive and healthy. The main part of the MCU ended for me with his passing, no character in MCU/or Marvel can activate the range of feelings and interest that I have for Vision.

His conversation with Wanda in the flashback... It was so touching! How much do we know. what lies between AoU and CW or between CW and IW? We fill the blanks with fanfiction, but we are left with a feeling of emptiness, because the canon does not give us any information, focusing on other things. We love a small gift, this little piece of the event mosaic between AoU and CW. Vision is very "young" here, Avengers just finished with Ultron, and it seems that they have not yet moved to the Base, or have just moved here. Vision learns to live with his "family" and his experience is mostly theoretical, but he already has philosophical conclusions. His combination of "youth" and wisdom delighted me at AoU and delighted me here. I even stopped crying for a moment, thinking about what he said. That was gold! God, what a journey from AoU to IW...

The lab scenes are exhausting. In terms of emotions they are heavy. I was morally destroyed, first, when Wanda walked into the lab and saw all this, and then, when Wanda said that line, the reference to IW.

And then I was completely crushed when I saw Vision's markings on the map/property form. And coming there was a point of no return for Wanda. Absolutely heartbreaking. Elizabeth won that, she have be proud of herself.

However.

I still want to know how Hayward pushed the idea and got the rights to the Vision's body, I have a feeling, it could be left unanswered. The question is important. Vision died in Wakanda, his team was bearby, alive. Where did they send the body? Why didn't they make sure that no one touched it, if, for some reason, they didn't try to restore it? Or Tony tried, failed, abandoned the idea, and left the body in a storage room somewhere? Seriously, what the hell?

I give Hayward credit, of course. I don't think he's from HYDRA or anything, he's just a paranoid asshole with his own plans, and he lied about having his body stolen to make Wanda a villain for everyone. He hates super powered individuals. Besides, he clearly wanted Wanda to do the hard work for him. He knew she could? The question is, does someone control Hayward?

I can see how we can get Vision back again as soon as the two Visions are sorted out — we take the blueprints and stuff from Hayward, we take Shuri and her Vision research, we take Helen Cho, we lock them all up in Wakanda, and we wait for the result, the acceptable result. Yes, this is the idea for fix-it.

I am looking at the comics: Vision has died more than once and he could be restored, although once he was dead for a very, very long time. Will Vision return to MCU? It's hard for me to accept — we'll see him for the last time next week. On the other hand, if Vision remains dead, then this violence against him from Marvel will stop. I am fed up with comics and drama, I want a happy ending or something, yes, I wanna see more of Wanda/Vision as a couple. Just fuck Marvel if they are planning to ship Wanda with Voodoo in DS2!

Also, White Vision is a strange and frightening, despite the fact I saw a shot with White Vision before episode's release. Maybe, I remember who he is, I'm familiar with comics here quite well, but his difference from Vision is already striking. And I'm not even talking about the colour. Hayward has got someone, who will kill easily, and nothing will change in his face. No wonder Heyward wants to send White Vision against Wanda. Actually, White Vision should have his own story arc, but honestly, I don't want to. I've had enough of comics. The only thing, whose voice will White Vision use to speak? Did Hayward wake Ultron up there by any chance?

Well, series makes ends meet, gradually pulls what is happening to the final, but it is too early to relax.

p. s. Paul Bettany is a notable troll, if speaking about a certain actor, he meant himself all this time. p. s. s. Paul Bettany may say again he doesn't believe in chemistry between actors, but I will disagree with him again. He and Olsen are igniting and beautiful.

#wandavision #scarlet vision #paul bettany #elizabeth olsen #the vision #vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #mcu #marvel #disney+#marvel comics #marvel what the fuck #marvel please no wanda/voodoo

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nerianasims · 4 years ago

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Billboard #1s 1984

Under the cut.

Yes -- "Owner of a Lonely Heart" -- January 21, 1984

The full version of this song is way too long. Not surprising from a former prog rock band. The music is good and interesting, but it loses me before the end even in the shorter single version. There's too much stuff. As for the lyrics, maybe that prog rock gloss made people think they were profound, but they look like self-help. Some incredibly 80s Reagan-era individualism, better to be alone than to be hurt, you're the only one you can count on, blah blah blah. Not for me. 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Culture Club -- "Karma Chameleon" -- February 4, 1984

The video to this song has nothing to do with it, unless there's supposed to be a connection between the con artist on the fantasy world 19th century steamboat and the guy who keeps coming and going whom Boy George is singing to. And I didn't fully realize the "you come and go" double entendre until just now. I like the video, anyway. And I like the song quite a bit. It's a very cheerful-sounding song about being strung along by some asshole.

Van Halen -- "Jump" -- February 25, 1984

Van Halen was something boys were into. It's weird how we delineate these things. At least back in 1984, if it got coded as a boy thing, then if you were a girl and also found it interesting, you'd damn well better hide it or certain other more socially powerful kids would tear you to shreds. That was my experience, anyway. (And if other girls were into it and you were not, you were also in serious trouble.) So though when I heard Van Halen songs I thought, "hm, I'm intrigued," I did not dare pursue that interest. Except for this song. This one was allowed. It's fun.

Kenny Loggins -- "Footloose" -- March 31, 1984

Footloose is a pretty good movie. At least I remember it being so when I eventually saw it in college in the 90s. Anything that stands against censorship, and for art and people having fun, already has an in with me. Also Kevin Bacon's great. The song isn't about the movie particularly; it's just about how dancing is wonderful. Though there is a hint at the movie: "You're playing so cool/ Obeying every rule/ Deep way down in your heart/ You're burning yearning for some/ Somebody to tell you/ That life ain't passing you by/ I'm trying to tell you/ It will if you don't even try." Yeah. Agatha Christie at one point lamented that young people in the 1950s were far too serious and self-righteous, and really needed to go dance in fountains. I feel the same now as she did then. Though wait until after the covid vaccine's been widely taken. Anyway, this is a good dance song.

Phil Collins -- "Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now)" -- April 21, 1984

It's a lament about being dumped. Apparently, Collins wrote it about his wife leaving him out of the blue, taking the kids and the dog with her. Ouch. There's a great drum part, which keeps the song from being too boring, but I still don't like it. Phil Collins' serious love/heartbreak songs don't do it for me. I find this one depressing without being cathartic.

Lionel Richie -- "Hello" -- May 12, 1984

I remember this video from when it was on the air. Mostly because of the Lionel Richie clay head. But also because I was like... is she his student? Isn't that a bad thing? Even though she's an adult in college, I still thought you weren't supposed to do that? I've had a major squick against teacher/student relationships, even in fiction, since I was a kid. Possibly this is because I come from a family of professors. (I didn't get a PhD and am therefore the black sheep.) Without reference to the video, the song is terrible. The lyrics are just repetitive cheese, whatever, but the song is so slow and blah and I don't like Lionel Richie's singing.

Deniece Williams -- "Let's Hear It For the Boy" -- May 26, 1984

I keep being surprised that there are people who think someone is worthless if they don't have a lot of money and don't dress fashionably. In this song, the titular boy also can't dance, but is that a thing that people get dinged for in reality? I don't know, maybe. This song was in Footloose, and it's the same sentiment as "My Guy"; her boy isn't some smooth-talking rich brat, but "he's my lovin' one-man show." He's like Edward Ferrars, not Willoughby. It's a fun song.

Cyndi Lauper -- "Time After Time" -- June 9, 1984

This is one of the greatest songs ever. Not just pop songs. Any song, of any type.

Duran Duran -- "The Reflex" -- June 23, 1984

These lyrics make no sense. That doesn't matter for this song much, which is all about the music. Which is not the best of Duran Duran's music. For all the many, many, MANY different musical ideas in it, it's actually kinda boring. They'd have done better to simplify. I imagine this sounds something like cocaine feels, though drinking way too many Mountain Dews to pull an all-nighter's my only comparison. Duran Duran were never my favorite, but I do enjoy many of their songs. This one, meh.

Prince -- "When Doves Cry" -- July 7, 1984

Prince only two songs after Cyndi Lauper? Is it my birthday? The song's lyrics start out being about the amazing chemistry between the narrator and "you." That establishes why they're together. Then Prince moves on to how they "scream at each other," and it's what it sounds like "when doves cry." He's accusatory -- "How could you just leave me standing/ Alone in a world so cold?" But then he goes right into thinking maybe it's his fault: "Maybe I'm just too demanding" etc. It's a sexy, thoughtful, and anguished song about a relationship in trouble. I like to think they'll overcome their problems and stop screaming at each other. Trust me, it's very possible. Also the music is great.

Ray Parker Jr. -- "Ghostbusters" -- August 11, 1984

Um. I have no idea how to evaluate this one. I heard it first in the theatre when I saw the movie, but I heard it years after every week when I watched the cartoon. It just... is.

Tina Turner -- "What's Love Got To Do With It" -- September 1, 1984

I have an overwhelming memory of hearing this song when I was alone in the grocery store as a teenager. I have no idea why the memory's so strong. Maybe it was the first time I went to the grocery store by myself? Maybe I ran into a guy I had a huge crush on, though I don't remember that? (If I was 16, that could have been one of any three guys... Romance is my secondary aspiration, after all.) In any case, it's a good song. The attempt to pretend love is a bunch of chemicals and doesn't truly matter is a pretty common one for the broken-hearted. And Tina Turner's great as always.

John Waite -- "Missing You" -- September 22, 1984

Two songs in a row about being in denial over matters of love. Interesting. This isn't the most fascinating song ever, but it's a good solid song about heartbreak that isn't gloopy at all. In the main vocals, Waite keeps insisting "I ain't missing you," but in the background is a soft voice that sings "missing you" over and over. That's a smart artistic move.

Prince and the Revolution -- "Let's Go Crazy" -- September 29, 1984

I liked a lot of pop music when I was 7, but I didn't get Prince. His songs sort of slid out of my brain as a "thing for grownups," and who could understand grownups? He was short and wore fancy outfits, and that's about all that registered. When I hit puberty, though... yeah. This song is more adult than that, though, and I don't mean sexually, though there is plenty of sex in this song. "You better live now/ Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door." The song is about sex, partying, and death. Also Prince was an astonishing guitarist, along with everything else. It's not one of my favorite Prince songs, because the lyrics are pretty depressing and it's super loud, but it's still great.

Stevie Wonder -- "I Just Called To Say I Love You" -- October 13, 1984

I never really listened to the background beep-de-boops in this song before. I've wondered before why this song, with its simple lyrics and melody, didn't bore me. It's the beep-de-boops. They, along with Stevie Wonder's perfect delivery, make this song musically complex. And the simple lyrics, with the more complex musical counterpoints, absolutely work. It helps that this is the kind of thing people really do.

Billy Ocean -- "Caribbean Queen" -- November 3, 1984

That heavy breathing after the line "I get so excited just from her perfume" is unfortunate. Otherwise, it's a song about how he met this "Caribbean Queen" on vacation and she "tamed" him so he's no longer looking for "love on the run." Sure, why not. I'd like a little more story to it, but that's me. It's got a good beat though, and is enjoyable enough as-is.

Wham! -- "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" -- November 17, 1984

I just realized I don't like this song. The beat and hook are sort of irresistible, and as a dance song the music absolutely works. But there's too much nostalgia about stuff that George Michael actually wasn't old enough to be nostalgic about. He was only 21 at the time, born in 1963, and yet he was singing about Doris Day. You can homage anything at any age, but... meh. And speaking of age, it's kind of a childish song and George Michael's voice was always more on the mature end, even if he was young at the time. For me, it hits a jarring note.

Daryl Hall & John Oates -- "Out of Touch" -- December 8, 1984

The beginning makes it sound like this is gonna be a relatively hard rock song, but that ends after a pretty short time. It's still really loud, with huge drums, and Hall pretty much shouts the song. Hall & Oates were great when they stripped stuff down. All this noise doesn't work for them. There are neat parts when all the noise suddenly stops and there's total silence, but then it goes right back to the rather uninteresting loudness. Not for me.

Madonna -- "Like A Virgin" -- December 22, 1984

And so it begins. Backstory: Madonna went to the same high school as my mother. She was friends (maybe more? he won't talk) with one of my uncles. When my grandmother saw the Like A Virgin album on the rack at the store, she said, "I'm so glad [he] didn't marry that girl." When my mother told me that, my reaction was "Are you kidding? We'd be rich!" But my family cares about PhDs and not money. My uncle ran wild in high school, but eventually became a successful career diplomat (and stopped being a jackass) after the woman he was in love with told him he'd better shape up or else. Also he looks a lot like Guy Ritchie, so that was weird for a while. I'd be in the grocery store and for a second think, "Why's my uncle on The Enquirer with Madonna?"

So anyway, the song. The way Madonna sang it in later iterations, I like it. I can't stand the version that became a #1 hit. The Betty Boop voice is just ugh. I love a lot of Madonna's music, and she would be something of an inspiration to me in later days, with her unapologetic persona as a woman who liked and wanted sex -- and enjoyed shocking the censorious -- but I was 8 at the time. I didn't get any of it, I just knew she sounded squeaky in this song and it bugged me.

BEST OF 1984: "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. WORST OF 1984: "Hello" by Lionel Richie

#billboard number ones

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savannah-lim · 4 years ago

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The Student Body || Savannah and Agatha

TIMING: A couple of weeks ago LOCATION: Harris Island PARTIES: @detective-keen and @savannah-lim SUMMARY: Savannah and Agatha band together to investigate some missing students and nothing goes wrong. CONTENT: Gun use (on monster), mention of gore, blood and dismemberment.

‘Thanks for the update, Lim, and hey, while you’re there, maybe see if the WCPD could use your help on any of these other Missing Persons cases. That one with the students looks pretty grim.’

Great. Savannah wasn’t opposed to taking on more cases - hell, Javier’s case was looking about as clear as mud right now - but local police departments very rarely welcomed the involvement of the FBI. It was usually a pride thing. They figured it made them look like they couldn’t handle it on their own. Or else it was a possession thing, like this is my town, my people. Rarely did she get the welcome wagon, so Savannah was expecting much of the same when she joined Detective Keen out on Harris Island. “Detective,” she greeted. “I’m Agent Lim. The Chief said you wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands.” Around them, officers were canvassing nearby residents and police dogs and handlers were gathering scents. There was so much commotion, Savannah would be surprised if they found a damn thing, but maybe that was just Javier’s case making her cynical.

Rain boots on, Agatha strode from one boulder to the next, escalating the blockade to get a better view of the area. She glanced over at a bunch of patellas stuck on a rock nearby, forming a beautiful pattern. There was a few people passing by her on the beach that morning, and she had to be polite with a couple of old ladies who were being very curious as to why she was here. Part of her knew that the two old witches only wanted her to go, because crime on the island could decrease the value of housing in the area, but she still remained polite. There were ohs and ahs as Agatha played her Joker card and mentioned her mother, who was actually quite appreciated by those people, back when she was Sheriff. However, the next person she saw approaching was not one she wished to see. Fuck me, she muttered under her breath, turning her back on the federal agent to have a look at… Ah yes, the remains of an Al’s Diner takeaway bag. Clearly this was a clue, right. Oh crap, it might have been a clue, yeah. “Oh the chief said that, didn’t he?” Her back still turned on the other woman, she still kept her polite smile on and having put the bag into evidence, she finally stood up to look at Agent Lim. “I thought you were chasing that mysterious guts thief?”

Yep. Just like Savannah had predicted, the Detective wasn’t so happy to see her, which was kind of a shame, because she was both hot and gay, a viable distraction or bit of fun Savannah might have enjoyed at some other time. “Guts thief?” Was she talking about Agent Sterling? She supposed technically his guts were no longer with his body… “Is that how you refer to your case files, Detective Keen? What’s this one? Kappa Sigma Missing?” Okay, so she was being just a little bit of a dick, but really, it was all in good fun. Not that the solemn expression on her face did much to communicate that. She came over to examine what Keen had been looking at. “Better get it bagged. No pun intended.”

“Wasn’t the other guy looking for a thief of guts? It was not my case so really…” Oh no, Agatha knew exactly what the case was about but she was not thrilled that someone was stepping all over her workspace. Couldn’t they have sent Marley? Or Sharmila? Or Jane? Anyone? Except for Mark. “I refer to my case file by their assigned name. Maybe you should do that too, if you want to work with me,” she retorted with a deadpan look on her face. No, she did not have time for this. Sitting down on the rock to help herself down on the sand, she stopped for a second before she looked over at the other woman. “Are you going to make jokes the whole time you’re here?” Really? Because that little trick would not work on her. She liked to joke, with people she liked.

“Oh, Javier’s cases? Yeah. There was a great deal of… disembowelment.” Savannah wished it was so simple, that she could determine whoever had been responsible for the killings Javier was investigating had killed him too, but she got the feeling it was far more complicated. She got the impression she and Agatha could both go back and forth exchanging witticisms all day. It might even have been fun if Agatha hadn't been so damn grumpy about it. "Who says I was joking?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. “I know you locals don’t usually like to share, but I’m pretty good at my job, and you have a half-dozen missing college students, so maybe we can just work together for their sakes, hm?”

“Right,” she shoved her hands in her coat, searching for an actual pair of gloves. The air of the sea was quite fresh and Agatha had no plans of freezing to death while searching for a damn clue. Heading back to the tarpaulin where she had left her things, she took a flashlight and her notebook. The wind bit her cheeks and was starting to regret not grabbing a bigger coat on her way out of the station. She usually had one in her patrol car, but it had gone to the cleaner after she ended up diving into a large dumpster and covering herself with diverse substances that included, of course, trash bag juice. Glamorous. “Puns are humorous,” she replied with the same dry tone she had had since Savannah had arrived. All it would have taken was for the agent to actually ask if she could help, rather than just walk in and impose herself like this, for Agatha to be in a better mood. “What?” She scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. This was her first time being anything but annoyed since the other woman had arrived. What kind of idea was that? “We like to share. We like to share as much as any other town does.” She refused to look at her town as anything else but normal after all. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I just… this is still my case, alright?”

Savannah could be patient. Often, the sort of lengthy investigations she took part in required it. But tact… tact was something she often went without. She had the ability, of course, but most of the time, she preferred to cut right to the chase. People could take it or leave it. “Fucking freezing out here,” Savannah remarked. She was from New England, so it wasn’t exactly new, but the ocean air out here was a little crisper than most. “It’s your case,” Savannah repeated. She hoped Agatha was good at her job too, or she’d become a back-seat detective in an instant; if she wasn’t already. “Do we have their names? Have you checked if any of them have any ties to the neighborhood, or a reason to be out here? We can request their cell phone history. Unless you’ve already done that.”

“Always, I can recommend you good stores if you want to invest in a thicker coat,” Agatha offered. Winters were never really kind, although some had it worse, but that did not mean that she herself could not be nice. “Alright,” she was someone who invested both energy and time in what she did, and there was nothing that could make her more furious than have someone grab what was the fruit of her labor. Maybe it was morbid to grow attached to murder and missing people cases, but she did not see it that way. She liked to finish everything she started. “We do,” she took out her notebook, handing it over to the other woman. She always had had a neat handwriting, and a passion for stationery, which meant, by consequence, that all her notes were not only tidy, but also detailed and organized no matter how messy a case could get. “I issued a request, I’m not sure how long it will take. There’s at least 4 students missing. I say at least, because I feel like there’s something going on here. These guys were healthy, and the sea was not agitated. There’s no reason for this to happen,” she observed, approaching the federal agent to look over her notes. “I was thinking, we could explore the caves on the seafront,” she had already done a walk on the shore and had not seen a thing. Maybe a cave could be the answer. “What do you think?”

Savannah's breath frosted on the air, pinching her skin and tainting it with hints of pink on her nose and cheeks. "I was stationed in Boston. I'm used to the cold, but this is next level." She rubbed her hands together. They were still cold in spite of her gloves, but she focused on the task at hand, examining the coast line for any signs. "Nice penmanship," she snickered as Agatha showed her her notes. She had to fight every urge to take control, but she had to admit, Agatha had done a commendable job so far. "Good. That's exactly what I'd have done."

No reason for this to happen, Agatha had said, and Savannah nodded thoughtfully. "In my experience, you don't usually need a reason." Especially in White Crest, but she hardly wanted to reveal herself to believe any of that supernatural stuff in front of a colleague. "They were college kids. They might have been doing something reckless, or even nefarious." She didn't need much help to believe that drunk college boys could be assholes, but given the setting, she considered it more likely they had just been drunk and foolish. Speaking of foolish... "The Caves?" she repeated, thoughtfully. "Great idea. I have flashlights in the car." Within moments, she'd retrieved them and the pair were on their way.

“Yeah, I have some regrets too,” Agatha motioned to her own coat, stuck her hands in her pockets and tried not to bite back as the agent seemed to mock her good old valedictorian habits. But could she really just stay quiet? “Why thank you, I always hate when people write like they are in a hurry,” hate was of course a strong word, but she felt like anything done in a hurry could not be well done. She noted the statement Savannah made next, not taking that as a compliment, but rather as a commentary.

“There is always a reason,” she retorted. Psychologically speaking, there was always a reason for things to happen. Even accidents happened for a reason. Someone had been drunk, or maybe looking at their phone. This was the reason for such a tragedy. Lame, avoidable, but still a reason. “See, that’s a reason. They could have been acting like idiots. I mean, college boys.” Even at the police academy, Agatha had been confronted with idiots. Guys roughly the same age who thought they were invincible just because they were young. You would think that people who were planning to protect others would be more serious, but apparently not. “I will be your guide,” a terrible one, as she very rarely had to wander in the shadow of these menacing hollows.There was no doubt that her boots would come in handy in there. She knew that the tides would not rise for another few hours, but they would have to be careful still. Seconds turned to minutes when you were searching for something, and it was easy to end up losing the notion of time. "May I suggest that we do not, under any circumstance, split? Those caves are larger than they seem."

"Okay, I guess technically..." Savannah answered. "Like, cause and effect and stuff, but what I mean is that sometimes accidents or murders happen without some kind of deep and meaningful story behind them." She'd been in law enforcement long enough to know that sometimes - most of the time - the stories behind crimes were much more shallow and surface-level than anything that happened in the movies. White Crest was. "We can't all live in an Agatha Christie novel. But drunk college idiots? That one's viable."

Before long (and after making sure they'd checked the tides) they had given there whereabouts to the uniformed officers headed towards the caves, flashlight in hand and spare batteries in her back pocket. "What, can you see in the dark or something? Because that would be incredibly useful right now in a guide. Also, guiding me somewhere we can get a burger and a beer after work would be a plus." She stuck close to Agatha as they walked, careful of her footing. "So you an experienced cave diver?" she asked, pausing for a second. "That's not a euphemism."

“This much we can agree on. Many cases I solve are not detective novel worthy,” and considering how terrible the genre could get, this was saying a lot. Agatha smiled to herself and shook her head at Savannah, “I have a pass. My parents named me Agatha for a good reason.” They had, and it was not because it matched the name of that author, really, but rather because it meant good. From the start, she had been manufactured to be good to others and so far, she had managed to fulfil the prophecy quite well, right? “Maybe they were just drunk and being stupid, or maybe it’s something else. I did not find anything that indicates that they were drunk. Not yet,” it was what made the most sense however, and she could agree with the agent on this.

“I wish. Perhaps we should have my cats join us,” she offered with a smirk. She imagined that her two fluffy friends would have clawed their way away from the humid caves. A flashlight in hand, she led the way, directing the beam toward the floor, and once in a while around her. They could no longer see the light behind them, and every single sound they made was echoing down the cavern. Who knew how big this place was. “I’ve never really explored this cave no, but I have tried each and every restaurant in town. I think we’ll deserve at least a proper meal once we’re done searching the place,” she agreed. Now that her mood had lightened, she began to feel more sympathy for the other woman. “Anyway, not exactly experienced, but it’s not my first time in those. You wouldn’t believe the amount of cadavers we find in those caves,” it was scary, how this town seemed to be drawn toward death of all sorts. Most of them were quite mundane but the rest, the rest just stood out. Always.

"Are you saying you were literally named after Agatha Christie?" Savannah asked, unsure if she found that information interesting or cringe-worthy. "My parents named me Savannah because they went to The Serengeti on their honeymoon. At least they didn't call me Gazelle." She didn’t particularly think you needed many indications that college frat kids had been drunk. A lack of beer cans or liquor bottles might have meant they didn’t throw down and have a litter-party on the beach, but it didn’t mean they hadn’t been to a bar earlier that day or pre-games at someone’s dorm room. Nevertheless, she followed Agatha’s lead, difficult as it was not to simply take control.

“Town must be pretty small if you’ve tried every restaurant. Or you’re just really determined.” Maybe a mix of both. She’d once dated a guy from Cincinnati who had made it his mission one year to try every park in the city limits with his dog. She missed the dog more than the guy. “I can believe it about the cadavers.” She wondered if Javier had been to these caves. Maybe the link appeared in her mind because of the fact he’d turned into a half sea creature. She just pictured poor squid-Javier, wandering around here in the dark making those weird squid-language noises she’d heard on his tape. She was careful with her footing as she moved along the rocks, relieved she’d worn sensible shoes and that her flashlight was clipped to the front of her jacket so her hands were free in case of a fall. She froze, hearing a splash of water in the distance. It wasn’t a steady sound like a stream. “Did you hear that?” She could make out the distant sound of gentle waves where the ocean came inside the rock, but this one had been louder, more harsh.

“Or I have a pretty large appetite,” Agatha gave the agent a wide smile, one that made her look either like a ray of sunshine, or like a hungry shark, depending on the occasion. “I can assure you that I have tried them all, but then, I never left that place,” aside from the summer holidays. “Some just wash up on shore, fishermen fallen from the boat,” more than in other fishing towns, but she failed to mention that. There were things you grew accustomed to. Much like Savannah, she heard that splashing sound coming from afar. Either they were not alone, or there was a very large fish somewhere in here. Her brows furrowed and she glanced at the other woman for a moment, frowning. “I did, it’s…” Once again, the same splashing sound could be heard, closer, louder. She aimed her flashlight in its direction, eager to find out what could have possibly been making that noise. She had this feeling in her chest as she walked forward. Could it be a body floating on the water? That could have been making this sort of noise, right?

“That’s what she said,” Savannah teased. “Burgers after though? I’m down.” She didn’t get the chance to ask Agatha more about which burger places she recommended or the fisherman’s bodies that washed up on shore before the splashing up ahead caught their attention. Savannah moved slowly, drawing her gun. She was ready to walk up on someone dumping a body. Grim, perhaps, but far less unexpected than what she actually saw as she and Agatha approached the water. There was nobody standing at the edge looking shifty as hell, nobody who threw their hands up in the air and mentally crapped themselves when Agatha and Savannah approached. Whatever they walked up on was in the water itself, and it was only once they got close enough that Savannah could make out its features. As she got closer, she could see it was a young woman… surrounded by blood and body parts.

“Don’t move!” Savannah instructed, her weapon primed.

The woman threw her hands in the air. “It wasn’t me! I need help.” The woman answered, seemingly crying and shivering, though it was impossible to distinguish the tears from the water on her face. “Something attacked us. God, I’m so glad you’re here…”

“Calm down Michael Scott,” Agatha shook her head, although there was a hint of amusement there. “Sure. And we can also ask Al if he saw those guys. I found one of his take away bags back there,” she offered. Two birds one stone was always nice. Still, Agatha’s appetite was out of the picture as this sound, that might just have been the sound of a body in the water, was heard again. Much like her colleague, she drew her weapon, although holding the flashlight and a gun at the same time had always been an equilibrium puzzle. You could not just hold a firearm with one hand.

The salt in the water must have done a good job with the body parts, because despite the scene looking like a carnage, the smell was not as atrocious as one might have expected. She knew that this was not her being used to it. This smell was not one you could forget. “Oh fuck,” she muttered under her breath. Her hands pointed toward the woman in the water, and she was caught off guard when that particularly beautiful creature shot her hands in the air, crying and calling for help. What the hell. Clearly she was able to stand in the water, so why was she staying in the middle of this… horror. “I’m going to need you to step out of the water, ma’am,” the detective warned, not taking her eyes off the woman. If it usually took more than tears for Agatha to feel bad for someone, she was starting to feel this way. “You must be very cold, and whatever attacked you might come back.”

The promise of warmth and safety should have been enough for the beautiful creature to step out of the water, but instead, she took a step back, keeping that damsel in distress look. However, to someone standing from the shore, it looked like she was drifting slowly further from the edge.

“If you don’t get closer, we’re going to get in there and get you ourselves,” she warned, and just like that, the woman in the water’s attitude changed. There were traces of fear and panic in her features. “She can’t touch the bottom anymore,” Agatha realized out loud. After all, how could she have figured that this was an antique ruse.

Savannah was glad she wasn’t alone. It was always better to have back-up in these situations, but she couldn’t have known just how important that back-up was going to be. “Okay, stay calm.” She backed up what Agatha was saying. Either this woman was an excellent actor and a cold-blooded killer, or she was freezing and traumatized. Either way, they didn’t want to scare her. “I’m going to put my weapon away, okay?” she explained, taking away her gun and strapping it back into its holster. Flashlight pinned to the front of her jacket, both hands were now free.

“Don’t shoot me,” the woman begged, “please don’t…”

“Nobody’s going to shoot you. I’m just going to help you out of the water.” Savannah looked over at Agatha, giving her a nod, telling her without words to keep her guard up and remain in position. She approached, movements slow and careful. The mixing smell of salt and blood hit her nostrils, making her want to gag, and suddenly burgers at Al’s afterwards didn’t seem like the best idea. As Savannah approached, the woman didn’t move, frozen stiff either by the terror of the situation or the icy water.

Savannah reached the edge, extending her hands to reach for the woman. Something seemed… off.

“Hey, can you come closer to--” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the woman seemed to tip herself upwards and backwards, being replaced by the snapping jaws of something horrifying; the biggest, ugliest fish she had ever seen. Savannah let out a sound between yell and scream, echoing horrifically off the cave walls as she stumbled backwards, slipping on the wet rocks and hitting the ground with a thud. God, would she ever get through a single day in this town without something knocking her on her ass?

Agatha knew that when it came to her job, you could not afford to scream at the first scare, otherwise you’d be the laughing stock of the whole station. And so she was rather calm, something that she made up for during her civilian times. And yet, as that awful fish (she knew literally nothing about fish, it was not something that she really liked eating), that looked like that ugly thing in the abyss from Finding Nemo (and she would never admit to having such shitty references when it came to marine biology), leaped from under the woman, she screamed her lung out and let out the most high pitched sound she might have ever produced. She wanted to check on Savannah. She had heard that god awful sound she made as she hit the ground, and quite frankly, she was worried for her. Was the woman in the water just cut in half by that monster? What the fuck was happening? Maybe this might have not been the best thing to do, but the detective aimed her weapon at the ugly fish, and shot it twice. The woman’s upper body seemed to still hang from its mouth as it retreated underneath the water.

Agatha ran to the edge, to see if she could still see the woman, or the fish, then turned to check on Savannah, a mix of worry and horror on her face. “That was… fuck.” She exhaled loudly, putting her hands on her knees. Oh no, now that she was close to the water, the smell was even worse, and with the emotions, she could feel her stomach twisting and twirling. No, no, no, not here.

The gunshots echoed around the cave, ringing in Savannah’s ears. She could see the flash from the muzzle lighting up the darkness as Agatha shot at the thing, that inexplicable thing, and the worst thing was she was barely even surprised by it anymore. Yes, the initial shock was starling and frightening, but after that, it felt like more par for the course. God, she hated golf.

Savannah stumbled upright, helping fire at the creature until it disappeared into the water. She wasn’t sure if they’d harmed it, or if it was just like firing Nerf darts at a teenager, but it was gone. She caught her breath, trying to keep her hands from trembling. “Is that…” Yep. A human leg. And a few other bits and pieces to go along with it. Agatha was shaken, and Savannah didn’t really know what she was supposed to do about it. She’d lived here a while, right? Was that really her first encounter with something like this? “Hey, are you..” She cleared her throat. “I think we need to get CSI in here,” was all she could muster.

Whatever it was that had emerged from beneath the murky, bloody water, was gone now. Clearly two angry women shooting at it was enough to teach it a lesson. Agatha had never seen such a large fish before. Quite clearly fishing had never been a big interest of hers. “Oh God,” she grimaced, “fuck.” A hand on her stomach, she took a few steps away from the water to catch her breath. Was it the smell, really? Or the shock? She had seen many things, and she did not easily get startled, but this was something else. What the fuck, she repeated to herself, taking a few breathes. If she could feel her head spin for a second, she did her best to not focus on it and instead kept her eyes on her feet, which she could barely see.

“What the fuck was this fish?!” She finally managed to blurt. She had this image of the fish darting out of the water to bite Savannah, and it did not seem to be going anywhere. “We do, we do. I’m gonna go out of here to call them. There’s no service in here,” she just wanted to get the hell out of his hellish place. Far from her the idea of fleeing, but she knew how to preserve herself, and this was how. “Stay away from the water, alright. This thing, I don’t know if it’s dead,” she warned.

Savannah’s words were lost at sea, along with those bodies (or whatever remained of them). She stood, almost frozen for several seconds before she could convince her lips to move again, the prospect of being abandoned for fish food spurring her. “I’m not staying here alone! Haven’t you seen horror movies?” She followed Agatha, making a mental note of the directions to the pool so they could find it again. She thought she’d remember which way they’d come. Once they were at the mouth of the cave, Savannah called some of the uniforms over while Agatha was making the call to CSI, getting them to section the cave entrance off. It had been several minutes, and her heart was still pounding. Once Agatha was done on the phone, she could tell something had changed between them, something unshakable. “This really was your first time seeing something like that, huh?” Savannah let out a sound of bemusement, somewhere between laugh and sigh. “Let’s get that burger after your shift. I have a feeling we’re both going to want some beers with lunch.”

#paras #with: agatha

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flutteringphalanges · 5 years ago

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Summary: It is public knowledge that Zoe Van Helsing is the last of her blood line. Not to mention that, in a sense, Count Dracula is too. However, after an unexpected night of passion, both their lives dramatically change when Zoe becomes pregnant. Two unconventional parents, one extraordinary pregnancy. What could go wrong?

Rating: M

Pairings: Zoe Van Helsing/Dracula & Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: I love baby stories. I feel like Oprah in that sense- "You get a baby! And you get a baby! Everyone gets babies!" So yeah, here's another Dracula baby one shot. Forgive my sex scene, I'm not the best at writing them. I've only attempted a few times, I need to work on it. Anyway, I hope you like it! Please let me know your thoughts and if this silly thing is worth continuing! -Jen

Chapter One

Sex. An act of intimacy between two individuals. Passion. Fury. Lust. Hunger. Sometimes animalistic. One might lose their mind, their sane mental processing. Their rationality. A fierce battle where there are a pair of losers or victors. It was in such a position, high on the blood of her enemy, that Zoe Van Helsing found herself in the nest of her greatest enemy.

"I shouldn't be here," she breathed, her lower back pressed against his table. "Why am I here?"

"You tell me," Dracula murmured, arms tight around her body. She could smell his scent, the earthiness behind it. It was almost pleasant. "I'm not the one who consumed my blood. That was you. You drew yourself here, dear doctor."

Zoe's arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her up. It was like being in a haze. Euphoric. She was aware of her surroundings and yet, despite her detest of the vampire, she hadn't felt the urge to go. As he sat down, Zoe straddled on his lap, she could feel the heat beginning to pool in her core. Sanity be damned.

"Easy, doctor," he purred, amused as her fingers fumbled at undoing his shirt's buttons. "You seem rather rusty. When's the last time you've been with someone?"

She nearly protested when he pushed her hands aside, his own fingers nimble as he undid them himself. Zoe didn't want him to have the advantage over this, her primal needs ignoring her calm collective manner. Dracula's shift slid off with ease revealing his pale, toned chest. When the tips of her fingers ran across his muscles, the heat within her grew.

"My turn."

Zoe yelped in surprise as Dracula flipped her onto the mattress. He grinned devilishly, looming over her. In a matter of seconds, her own shirt had found its way to the floor. His fingers lingered over her bra, his smile growing wide as she squirmed underneath him. The vampire found the snap, pausing momentarily when he did.

"We can stop," he suggested. "Your choice really."

"No," she growled heavily. "Quit being a tease."

"I apologize," he smirked, a twinkle in his eye. "It's in my nature."

The bra was discarded in the direction of her clothes, something Zoe was not too concerned about at the moment. An unexpected hiss escaped her lips as the count lowered his head and began to kiss her bare flesh, lingering over her jugular. Her hands, as if with a mind of their own, found their way into his thick, dark hair. The doctor arched her back, biting her lip as he stopped just above her waistline.

"Pants are such an inconvenient thing," he whispered, his index finger tracing around her navel. "Wouldn't you agree, Zoe?"

"Fuck you."

"I can always call it a night," he suggested casually. "I'm in no rush."

"You're an asshole."

"Over five centuries and counting."

Zoe rolled her eyes, trying to remain posed as his fingers curled around her slacks. Slowly, he edged them down, letting them fall to her ankles. Momentarily, he looked up, his gaze dark and mischievous. Gingerly, he slid his hand inside of her panties. The doctor gasped, bucking her hips as she felt his caress. Her nerves were shockwaves, lighting up throughout her body.

"Please," she whimpered, grunting as his touch became more firm. "I need...need…"

"Hm?" He inquired, almost innocent. "Speak more clearly, Dr. Van Helsing, you aren't making much sense."

"Out of my head," she gasped breathlessly. "Out of my head and in me."

Dracula chuckled as Zoe attempted to push his own pants down, using her feet to press against the belt. He shook his head, clicking his tongue. It was amusing, watching her squirm. Now she was his prisoner. No see through cage, just a mattress in bed frame.

"What's the magic word?"

"I don't…" she moaned, feeling his fingers tease. "Please…I...invite you in."

The vampire grinned, leaning in close, lips brushing against hers. "You needn't ask twice…"

For the first time in her life, Zoe felt a sensation she'd never experienced before. Ecstasy.

"You're pregnant."

Zoe blinked, looking at her oncologist in confusion. She'd just come in for routine blood work to observe the progression of her cancer. Her doctor, Dr. Elliott, gazed down at her chart, not seeming to notice how in shock her patient was. After all, it wasn't as if she was aware of Count Dracula's existence or even the fact that Zoe slept with the vampire for that matter.

"That's impossible," Zoe said, much louder than she had intended. "I can't be pregnant. The test results…"

"Very strange actually," the other woman continued. "Not only did your blood work show accelerated hCG levels-something we look for in pregnancy, but your cancer...it's almost like it's going into remission," Dr. Elliott smiled. "Look, I don't want to cause you any sort of alarm, so I'm going to set an appointment up with a gynecologist. I want to make sure this isn't some fluke. Do you know when your last period was?"

"They're irregular," the doctor muttered. "Ever since I started chemotherapy. But I assure you, there is no way I could be pregnant."

"Have you had sex?" Dr. Elliott inquired, an eyebrow raised.

"Well…" Zoe thought back for a moment and then the realization hit her. A dread that crawled from the depths of her stomach, up her throat, and left a bitter taste in her tongue. "Five weeks ago, but it can't be. His genetics...he's supposed to be sterile."

"You'd be surprised, Zoe," the oncologist stated. "The human body works in mysterious ways."

"Not if you're not human," the woman growled. She sighed, massaging her temples. Migraines had been becoming constant lately. Anything threatened to set them off. This included. "When is the soonest I can have an appointment?"

"Based on your given condition, I think it's safe to say we can expedite things," Dr. Elliott said, returning to her chart. "Can you do tomorrow afternoon? After we see how things are, you can come back down to oncology and discuss matters there."

"The earlier the better," Zoe huffed, gathering her things. "Gynecology?"

"Twelve o'clock," the other woman responded. "I'll call if anything changes."

She nodded, a frown etched across her features. Not exactly what she had expected to hear today. Anger. Confusion. Fear. Battling cancer, being terminally ill at that, was one thing. The possibility, extremely high as it was, of being pregnant by her worst enemy, no less, was positively horrific to think about. The fact that he was undead didn't help matters either.

As she left the hospital, she desperately tried to push it all into the back of her mind. She didn't want to think about it. Pretend that it was a dream. A nightmare. There was no way. Simply no way. The tests were wrong and that would be proven tomorrow. Until then, she needed a drink. Wait, should she drink? Did she even care enough to consider the idea of what damage alcohol would cause? Dammit. Count Fucking Dracula.

Zoe found herself pulling into a drug store a few blocks from her apartment. It was as if she was on autopilot. Through the sliding doors, she immediately found herself in front of the feminine products. Pregnancy tests. Either a reassurance or a dreaded accuracy to her condition. Not knowing, or caring, which was better, the doctor pulled a few from the shelf and headed to the checkout line.

"Congratulations," the young clerk smiled. "I'll keep my fingers crossed!"

"I don't think we see eye to eye," Zoe muttered, sliding her card. "Plastic please."

The hallway was empty as the doctor made her way down to her door. The bag in one arm, she shoved the key into the lock with a little more force than necessary. Flipping the lights on, she walked over to the counter and dumped the boxes out. Morning. That was the recommended time. Screw it. She pulled a glass from her cabinet and began to fill it with water. A full bladder. She needed answers now.

Positive.

Zoe groaned, hurling the stick into the nearby trash can. She lifted another, her eyes flickering from the test to the box's instructions. Same result. Same outcome.

Positive.

She hunched over, holding her head in her hands. A migraine. So it began. This situation, all of it, was not helping. If anything, Zoe had begun to realize that she had the capability of despising Dracula even more than she already did. How could she've been so stupid? To drink his blood. To take it like some jello shot at a fraternity party. Nearing forty years old and still having foolish moments. As she was just about to look at her third positive test, her phone buzzed.

"No longer with the Foundation?"

She didn't need caller identification to know who it was.

"How the hell did you get my number?"

"Social media is a fascinating thing. Or, I took the liberty of confiscating your little friend, Jack's, phone. I just realized I had yet to reach out to you. How are you doing?" -Dracula

She shouldn't respond. Zoe knew she shouldn't. But her fingers began to type anyway.

"You couldn't have picked a better time." -Zoe

"Do I detect sarcasm? Forgive me, I have a hard time reading emotion over text. Emojis are wondrous things. You should try them." -Dracula

"Where are you? Out draining the blood of some innocent person?" -Zoe

"Home, actually. You should come over. I quite enjoyed our last visit." -Dracula

Not a good idea. It was an absolutely horrible idea. But her blood boiled and fight over flight took over.

"Yes, I think I will come over." -Zoe

"Oh? How spontaneous! I'll get the wine ready. Will red suffice?" -Dracula

But Zoe had left the conversation. Fingers clenched so tightly into her palms that they turned white, she headed for the door, grabbing her purse and keys on the way out. Her mind was far from thinking clearly and she was okay with that. Things needed to be settled now. It was only a matter of time before they would anyway.

She gripped the wheel tightly as she zoomed through the traffic lights leading to Dracula's home. Thankfully it was late enough that there were not many cars out. Parking, she stomped up the steps, her ever present migraine throbbing in her temples. Before she had the chance to knock, Dracula had already swung the door open.

"Ah, Zoe, what brings you to my humble abode?"

There it was, his smile. That grin. That ever present mocking face as if he was always right. Always having the upper hand. God, did she detest him. Their eyes were locked, his head tilted just slightly to the side as if trying to read her expression. Zoe frowned, fist tight as she took that brief moment of chance.

"You got me pregnant you asshole!"

And with all the strength she could muster, Zoe Van Helsing sucker punched Count Dracula in the face.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dracula on Netflix #Agatha Van Helsing #Zoe Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Dracula x Zoe #Gemini

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c0untb00z · 5 years ago

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I would just like to clear, I don't hate the BBC Dracula 2020 Show. In fact, I actually like the idea of Dracula being set in modern times like in the show, but I would like it a lot better if it wasn't written like a fucking reader insert fanfiction.

Don't get me wrong, I love me some reader inserts every once in a while but they're meant to be on Wattpad. Sometimes, you can find really fucking good fanfictions that could genuinly be movies, but this really just feels like someone wrote an erotic fanfiction for Dracula. It almost reminds me of a worse version of 50 Shades of Grey with less kinky sex.

First and foremost Agatha Van Hesling. I actually kinda liked her personality, how driven she was and determined to never give up, but she was literally created for a love interest. In Dracula by Bram Stocker, Sister Agatha is a nun that nurses Jonathan back to health, claiming he was 'sick in the head' as he ranted of what he had seen and warning others of Dracula. She doesn't even have a last name.

However there is a Dr. Van Hesling in the book, hes dutch(???) Professor that mentors and taught(????) Jack Seward who was in love with Lucy, who was fed off of and eventually killed and eventually undead by the means of the one and only Dracula. Dr Van Hesling plays a large role in the plot of the book. He has an open mind and was able to draw connections between things that some others couldn't, as he had access to more sources and could speak to most off the charecters involved. He's the first person to present the idea of a vampire, and Lucy turning into one. Thanks to Jonathan he was able to identify the vampire feeding on Lucy as Dracula and finds out how to kill the vampires.

So basically Agatha was literally fabricataed for the sole perpose of being there, to fall in love with Dracula or something.

I know we all are horny for Dracula. I'm horny for Dracula. Vampires are fucking hot but the sexiest part of vampires is that they ya know. Kill you and are mercily and heartless. The show does show that in a lot of parts and even decapiates a nun and yeets it into a gaggle of nuns which i fucking died at. But it also, humanizes him way to much, hes literally a monster. The scene in the boat with lord whats his name really portrayed that. It was really,,,, weird cause me being a kinky fucker I don't find the particular phrases of "you're going to need to be quiet now," and " youre doing so well" that creepy and if anything a little hot but looking at the circumstance and the look on that kids face, it was like r e a l y fucked up. Which is why i liked that scene. It showed just how fucked up Dracula is.

To be fair i did like Cleas Bangs acting and casting as Dracula. He had a certain charm that was ever so s l i g h t l y off. I heard people say he just 'made up an accent' but fuck you guys its a fucking danish accent you incolent twats anyways. He could be really funny at times and i actually apprecited it.

However the casting AND acting of the modern parts is absolute shit. Ep.3 is where i kinda gave up on the show and finsihed it for the sake of torturing myself. FIRST OF FUCKING ALL LUCY i cannot fathom how P I S S E D i am about Lucy. Why did they have to make her a phone obsessed basic asshole with no regards to anyones emotions besides her own and the extent of her personality is 'getting likes on socail media is all i care about because it makes me feel validated so im gonna wallo in self pity because i was obiously written by white man in his 50s that would have made me white if he wasnt forved to throw in diversity points" like shut the fuck up steven king.

Also lucy and mina never meet??? Theyre in different fucking time lines??? Theyre friendship and love for eachother was fucking golden how dare you rob that form me and give me a garbage bag full of shit with a shiny little bow on top in its place jesus f u ck.

The cemetary scene was o k ay i gues?? I liked the little nod to the book with the bloofer lady and the concept of random sprits being undead because of unfinished buisness. But this really just felt like it was slapped in the show for the sake of going on a date with Dracula in cemetary. I actually kinda apperacted it but it just felt awkward.

Also who the f u ck is Lucy's friend? The gay one??? Like,,,, is that supposed to Arthur???? His chatecter was so fu king weird and offset he just didnt feel like he should be in there. Hes literally just there for a-50-year-old-man's-interpretation-of-young-women-now-a-days verson of Lucy to have a gay best ffriend.

Ok i not even sure if i want to talk about Quincy. It just hurts. It physically hurts me to think about how d i r t y they did my baby. His charecter is the defination of american chivalry, just as great as regular chivarly but with a little extra cowboy vibe. Quincy is jist the biggest,,,, sweet haert,, like he asked lucy to marry him in his cool american cowboy voice cause he knew lucy loved it and it always made her laugh. And even when she turned him down becayse her heart belonged to arthur, he stayed. All he wanted was for lucy to be happy and all he requested was that they stay frirnds. Hes also invovled with taking fkwn dracula although hes not a main charecter percice ly as he doesnt have any entires in the book he still has an amaizing precence and sometimes while reading the book ill be readying one of dr sewards passanges and think "huh i wonder what quncys doin. I hope hes dooin good. Cowboy vibes n stuffs" amd boy dles he do that. Everh dracula film adaptataion robs us. R O B S U S of quincy morris best scene. In the middle of dr van helsing ranting about vampires( thats basically what half of the book is. I could write a 4p minute mono louge of his rambling jesus how does sweard take note of all this) quincy litterally just walks out. And nobodg really pays any notice beside glancing ag his leave and shrugging at one anouther and going back tl listneing tl van helsing explaining his vampire fan theories quincy moris , the quincy morris from texathe untited states of the amerkca the land and the free and also cowboys.stands outside of the bouilding and pints his gun up at. Dracula whos in the shape of a fucking bat eves ddopping outside the window and just fucking,,shoots it. Now he doesnt hit it cause thatt wouldnt be as fun as brutally stabbing the fucker witja wooden stake. But S T I L L. And the fucking bullet hits the window that everybodys in anprobably causes arthur to shit himself the ppoor boy. Can you belive that theh didnt fucking flim thatfor any dracul? Now i i under stands why not put in this adaptation because quincy is only mentionsed like three god damned times. And when theh DK mention him jesusnshit they literally jsut made him some popular jock from amwrica just to conter jacks white twinky ass and then they had him propose to lucy in the middle of a fucking night club and she says yes???? Lile ok jut throw Arthur out a window then cause cause fu c k him i guess. And then after lucy dies he jjsy fucking moves ?? The only thing thta makes this version of qincy quinccy is the fu king name and fact hes from america

Ok now jack fucking seward. He reminds me of when ylu forget you had a pb&j in your back pack so in the bos after school you pull it out cause yoyr hungry and yoyr mom put WAY to much jelly on it so now its like. All obsorbed into the bread and joggy and squished. Just sad and really white. They even had some kid call him whate bread and they werent fucking wrong. His obly personality traits were ' omg i love lucy but shes a hoe ;,,,((' and being connected to Zoe.

Now last and definately least the god forbaden ending. Just thinking about it gives me a fucking head ache. So , jesus, zoe, who is agathas great niece or someshit, a d looks exactly like her (its literally the same fucking actress) is a detective lile scitist reasearching dracula. So dracula is illedatly attracted to her becasue he thinks shes like agathas reincarnation or soenshit. So he tries tk drink her blood at one point and spits it all out and pukes and sjit cause her blood is poisonous bevaise she has fucking c an c e r. So later we find out that draculas weaknesses ( the sun crucifix) arnt actually real hes just afraid of dying so he has like irration fears or some shit so for some fucking reason. They deside. Its a good iea to end the show with this:

Dracula fucking drinks all of zoes blood killing her and himself because her blood poisonus. And ghe fucking emd scene is them like,,, in the sun???? Or soemt hi ng??? And theyre naked and like presumably fucked and dracula says some shit like " its doesnt have to hurt" and i almost tore my wrist open wiith my teeth because of how shitty this ending is.

Not lnly is it disrespectful to zoe but agatha, agathas whole thing was K I L I N G. dracula she wanted him fucking D E A D she woULDNT FUCK HKM

And like just after finding out that he can be in the sunlight with out fucking dying and that crosses just make him umcomfortable or some shit he just desides to kill himself??? DUDE YOU JUST FOUND OUT YOURE PROACTICALLY MORE INVINCABLE THAN YOU WERE BEFORE AND YOU JSUT FUCKING OFF YOUR SELF ??? HE COULD HAVE FUCKING RULED ENGLAD AND SPEAD VAMPIRISM OLL LVER THE FUCKING COUNTFY AND WORLD KF HE TRIED HARD ENOUGH AND HE KILLS HIMSELF BECAUSE THEY WANTED A STUPID SAPPY ENDING

anyway if anyone actually goes through the effort of reafing my god damn eS S A Y about Dracula that i finkshed typing (im not gonna bother editing tbh) at 4 fucking am. Then thank you and please get a life

#vampire #dracula #dracula2020 #bbc dracula #bbc dracula 2020 #3 am essays cause im pissed #dracula bram stoker #bram stoker #draculaxreader apparnetly

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f4liveblogarchives · 5 years ago

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Fantastic Four Vol 1 #196

Sun Aug 25 2019 [01:53 PM] Wack'd: Normally I don't post covers but there's a lot going on here

[01:53 PM] Bocaj: A lot to unpack [01:54 PM] Wack'd: So for the record [01:55 PM] Wack'd: What actually happened was that Skrulls abducted Franklin Storm out of prison, replaced him with a Skrull. Skrull Storm then broke out of prison and claimed he'd given himself superpowers and was now a supervillain [01:55 PM] Wack'd: "The Invincible Man" [01:56 PM] Wack'd: When the Four figured out the truth, the Skrulls send Franklin Storm back with a gun strapped to his chest, but rather than murder his kids he dropped to the floor so the gunshot would rebound on him [01:56 PM] Wack'd: So, uh, no. By no metric did Sue and Johnny "murder" him [01:57 PM] Wack'd: This was all back in the 60s which I read a fucktillion years ago in 2016 so I hope that recap helped [01:57 PM] Bocaj: That sure is nonsense [01:58 PM] Wack'd: In fairness. Not bad revenge for being tricked by a comic book and having your soldiers turned into cows [01:58 PM] Bocaj: Fair [01:59 PM] Wack'd: So anyway Reed is in a hypnosis chamber to have his will broken so he'll kill his friends [01:59 PM] Wack'd: When his new bosses said that there was free mental health treatment I don't think this is what Reed had in mind [02:01 PM] Bocaj: Truly businesses supporting mental health hasn't gotten any better since the 70s... [02:01 PM] Wack'd: This mystery man who may or may not be Franklin Storm somehow has cannibalized Psycho-Man's suit for more effective hypnosis. You might remember him from the Four 1967 annual [02:01 PM] Wack'd: Also other stuff [02:03 PM] Wack'd: Also his assistant is Hauptmann, from the 85-87 arc where Doom tries to trap the Four in Latveria forever [02:03 PM] Wack'd: I really should be keeping a running list of who's been doing the most cannibalizing from the 60s [02:03 PM] Wack'd: Because jesus fuck have we been on a continuity kick lately [02:04 PM] Wack'd: BACK TO HOLLYWOOD [02:05 PM] Wack'd: Sue tries desperately to pretend she's had a single meaningful conversation with Johnny since 1964

[02:06 PM] Bocaj:

"Hey.... you" "Its me, Johnny! The loveable rascal! Your brother!" "Right right right of course!" -to Reed- "I have no idea who that is"

[02:06 PM] Wack'd: I'd like to nominate Keith Pollard for worst-ever drawing of any child, ever

[02:06 PM] Bocaj: Kill it with fire [02:07 PM] Wack'd: Maybe Pollard is just...bad at art?

[02:08 PM] Wack'd: The coloring isn't helping though [02:08 PM] Umbramatic: oh god [02:08 PM] maxwellelvis: I was about to say [02:08 PM] maxwellelvis: Good lord! First-phase Liefeld's Syndrome! [02:10 PM] Wack'd: Something I haven't mentioned is that Agatha is now Franklin Richards' live-in nanny which, I think, would probably have been a smarter writing choice from the beginning [02:10 PM] Bocaj: Oh so she returned to the job? [02:10 PM] Wack'd: It was always kinda weird that Reed and Sue had to shlep out to Agatha's house to see their kid [02:10 PM] Bocaj: This must have been around the time she told Wanda 'I've taught you all I can, laters' [02:10 PM] Wack'd: Yeah since New Salem and also her house got got she's been following around Sue and Franklin, including to Hollywood [02:12 PM] Wack'd: So Sue, Ben, and Johnny go sightseeing, and talk about reforming the team. Only problem is convincing Reed [02:12 PM] Wack'd: They arrive on the Walk of Fame, and--

[02:12 PM] Wack'd: I am officially declaring Pollard the worst [02:13 PM] maxwellelvis: AHH! ART ATTACK! [02:13 PM] Umbramatic: my eyes [02:13 PM] maxwellelvis: THE ART IS COMING RIGHT AT US! [02:14 PM] Wack'd: Ben tries to get an autograph but is shoed away by cops [02:14 PM] Wack'd: Who think he's a guy in a costume because Let's Make Another Deal™ is shooting across the street [02:15 PM] Wack'd: Okay, I laughed

[02:16 PM] Bocaj: Hah [02:16 PM] Wack'd: *Alex Ross goes on to use this panel as the basis for his drawings of Sue and Johnny* [02:16 PM] Bocaj: To choose which celebrities they look like? [02:16 PM] Wack'd: Yes [02:16 PM] Wack'd: Dats da joke [02:17 PM] Bocaj: Is it a joke? I thought you were seriously imparting trivia [02:18 PM] Wack'd: It was a joke, I can't actually name the celebrities off the top of my head that Alex Ross picks, sorry [02:18 PM] Wack'd: So the scenes from the cover happen but they're hallucinated in the middle of this lovely restaurant [02:19 PM] Wack'd: Also, this

[02:20 PM] Wack'd: So apparently this was all a battle in the center of the mind not in physical space. Sue, Johnny, and Ben lose, allowing Invincible Man to extract them from the restaurant [02:21 PM] Wack'd: Just another day in Hollyweird, lol

[02:22 PM] Wack'd: So back at Reed's new job, it turns out Invisible Man was--REED! [02:22 PM] Wack'd: He was hypnotized [02:23 PM] Bocaj: 😐 [02:23 PM] Bocaj: Another Evil Reed? [02:23 PM] Wack'd: But then he snaps out of it and gets angry so they're all thrown in a dungeon [02:23 PM] Bocaj: Another Evil But Its Not His Fault Honest Reed?? [02:23 PM] Wack'd: YEP [02:23 PM] Bocaj: Weird trend lately [02:23 PM] Wack'd: I know, right? [02:25 PM] Wack'd: I maintain that Wein was throwing a hissy fit over the idea of Reed having character flaws. But Wein is gone, and it's a weird grudge for two consecutive writers to hold, especially when the divorce arc has been over for like 45 issues [02:26 PM] Bocaj: Maybe the current writer is just copying Wein [02:26 PM] Wack'd: Maybe [02:27 PM] ThreeOfFour: someone tell The Maker he isn't special [02:27 PM] Wack'd: So anyway Reed agrees to go back to work because otherwise his friends die I guess [02:28 PM] Bocaj: Hey, the Maker. You're not special [02:29 PM] Wack'd: ...this guy hasn't appeared before this issue so I'm not sure why I'm supposed to care here

[02:30 PM] Wack'd: I actually went back and checked just now to see if this guy was in other issues at Reed's new job and no, he's not, Wolfman introduced to this supposedly important character just to make a joke about the fact that he's not important [02:31 PM] Wack'd: The beginning of the issue kind of implies that he's the mysterious man in chair? But there's a panel later on that implies it's Doom, so [02:32 PM] Wack'd: So this is what Reed's been working on

[02:32 PM] Bocaj: The set of a high budget fantasy movie? [02:32 PM] Wack'd: These mirrors are so powerful that they will drive you insane if you look at them with your eyes open, and even with your eyes closed it's not great [02:32 PM] Bocaj: why [02:33 PM] Wack'd: I guess this is what they thought solar power would be like in 1978 [02:34 PM] Wack'd: The Red-Haired Man is also planning on getting Reed his stretching back for some reason [02:35 PM] Wack'd: Back in the dungeon, Sue uses her force fields to break the team's shackle and the--okay

[02:35 PM] Wack'd: I know Janet has that whole speech about how when you focus on power sets and not what each personality brings to the team, you don't build something that lasts as long as the Avengers do [02:36 PM] Wack'd: That said I'm kinda feeling like Sue can do everything Reed could with far less threat of bodily harm [02:36 PM] Bocaj: But can she be a giant asshole who tells the others what to do all the time? [02:36 PM] Wack'd: Fair [02:37 PM] Wack'd: Also why are so many artists convinced Sue's powers come from her forehead [02:37 PM] Bocaj: That’s where psychic powers come from [02:39 PM] Wack'd: I should probably take a moment to point out the interior blue highlights on Sue's powers, an embellishment that will gradually lead to more dynamic illustrations and the eventual obsolescence of the classic dotted-line look

[02:40 PM] Umbramatic: Sue's slow evolution into one of the most powerful people in Marvel pleases me [02:41 PM] Wack'd: Anyway no sooner do they escape then they are immediately re-captured by Doom, who let them escape because they are powerless and he is great and yada yada yada [02:42 PM] Umbramatic: DOOOOOOM [02:43 PM] Bocaj: "There would be no plot if DOOM did not allow you fools to escape"

#1978 #Marv Wolfman #Keith Pollard #The Main Book

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guardmesherlock-rowan · 5 years ago

Text

Foiled Kidnapping - Agatha

Sometimes life is not fair. Sometimes life is a total asshole. Sometimes life decides that it doesn't matter if you're getting ready for bed on a cold winter night. It decides why not have your phone ring at 11 pm? It makes you think it'll be a quick consulting job. Not people trying to kidnap your ass at now 11:05 when it's freezing outside.

Now you're in a tank top and silly valentine heart pajama pants, that your best friend gifted you, and tied by people you are NOT used to being tied up by. Sitting in the backseat of a car watching out the rear view window as the person, who you SHOULD NOT be used to being tied up by, chases the vehicle. Sadly, life decided this was a totally hilarious thing to do to Agatha one night.

"I can and will kick all your collective asses." Agatha growled at them. She fidgeted with the handcuffs, do break her thumb or not to? She had work in a few days like... she was supposed to be able to tumble out of a moving vehicle and go into a fight out of the gate. If she couldn't do it then... they'd find someone else or postpone the shoot. With James skulking around, nah. Not gonna miss the chance to help out Jane. To top it all off somehow they knew enough about her to tie up her legs too. The idea of beating people to a bloody pulp with her skull floated around a bit before she nixed it as too much of a headache.

"Miss Mad Hattie," the solemn looking asshat nodded at her, "we are in need of your services and... we're just worried that you might end up telling our competition our plan afterwards." Two guys on either side of her seemed to be taking his lead.

"Look douche, I'm a professional-ish person. Like I'd care?" Agatha held out the handcuffs, "off?"

Asshat douche shook his head, "I'm sure you'd care. Your boyfriend works for him."

"My boyfriend?" Her mind wandered over the possibilities, who the fuck?

"You know, 'M's art consultant? We're not blind Miss Mad Hattie."

Agatha leaned forward glaring at him, "Call me that one more time. Let's just see what happens."

"I understand you're upset, really, and I appreciate that, but we just cannot run the chance of consulting you and having it backfire."

"Oh so what's the plan? Hold me captive until your job is completed?"

She rolled her eyes at him before he chuckles, "no. We're thinking a little bit more long term. See, you are the best we've heard at... travel consulting. Thought we'd keep you around for a while until you've run out ideas or something didn't quite pan out the way you thought it would. Then we'd terminate the relationship."

"Right." He gave her the sleaziest smile, made her want to throw up. Agatha didn't have to solve riddles or find clues to understand exactly what he was saying. They didn't plan on letting her leave.

Agatha relaxed, trying to get out now wasn't going to help too much. Between the person across from her and the handcuffs and rope around her ankles, she wasn't going to be getting anywhere fast, not unless he was distracted. "So, you know that guy isn't my boyfriend, right?" She smirked at him.

"That hardly matters anymore."

"I'm curious, what exactly made ya think he was?" The man pulled out his cellphone.

"It wasn't that hard to figure out." He starts paging through his phone. Agatha starts to wiggle her feet trying to get out of the rope. As long as her feet were free she could control the fall just a little bit more and deal with the handcuffs later. "Dammit where is that picture?"

Picture?

She was more curious than she wanted to admit. What on earth was photographed to lead people to think she and Jack were together? Soft Jazz flowed from his phone, causing them both to jump.

"Hello?" He was hesitant to answer, but he seemed to relax and started nodding to whoever couldn't actually see him doing it. "Yes yes, got her right here. Smaller than I thought she'd be."

"Doom and mayhem, I promise you." Agatha shouted loud enough that she hoped she would be heard through the phone.

The guy shot her a glare and held it for a long time before shock and nervous laughter took over. "He just said, 'If Goldilocks doesn't mind her manners three bears are gonna come and take that little girl away.'"

Agatha tilted her head, "Who the fuck are you talking to anyway?" She eyed the phone, something felt off.

"Just a guy back at the warehouse preparing your... stay." The guy gave her a dark greasy smirk. She leaned back and fidgeted with her feet again and watched as the roads went past. Round and round again.

"Didn't we already pass this street?"

"We're just making sure we're not followed." The man shrugged.

"That's stupid."

"Hey! We're the real professionals here! We know what we're doing."

A warehouse? And they were sure taking their sweet time getting there. Snow started to fall outside her window, at least when she jumped she'd have a little something to land in. "Almost there." The guy was looking out the window, they were getting close to a bridge, now or never. Agatha threw herself at the guy, head butting him in a quick moment. His nose spurted hot blood that splattered on her a little. She was sure she broke it, that guy wouldn't be seeing clearly for a bit. The others on the sides of her went to grapple, ending up pulling her pants down her hips just a little instead while she reached the door handle.

It clicked and slide open but that moment was enough for them to get a hold of her again, the two now restraining her on their laps. A stream of cusswords coming from the guy across the way. "We should break her legs when we get there, she won't need them anymore anyway."

"Excuse me?!" Agatha shouted, struggling more against those holding her.

"Crossing the bridge." The driver called out, he actually sounded bored. She didn't know if she should panic they were crossing the bridge or insulted at his tone.

The man held his nose and leaned back trying to stop the blood from further running down and staining his shirt.

"Sir?" The driver slowed down, sadly Agatha couldn't see anymore what was going on from her prone position. Douche turned around and looked out the window and gasped horrified. The car came to a stop. She felt the loosened rope slip a little

"What is going on?!" He pulled out his phone and started dialing.

"I'd like to repeat your question." Agatha pushed off the rope while the guy struggled to retighten it. Quickly she kicked him in the face as there was a tapping on the window down by her feet. Struggling to look up she saw Sebastian, tapping on the glass with the butt of a gun.

"Go!" Douche called out to his driver who already had his hands raised as someone else was standing next to their door.

"Unlock it." the muffled voice at the driver's side shouted. With a damning click the car door opened as Sebastian bid it. He pulled the door out of the way before reaching in, offering Agatha a hand.

She sat up awkwardly. This wasn't exactly a rescue mission she'd expect. Quickly she glanced towards the warehouse, the burning, flaming warehouse. "The fuck dude?"

Sebastian helped her climb out of the car and started to pick the lock to her handcuffs. "You could've gotten out of these easily. Never be without a lock pick set."

"Wise words to live by, I'll make sure never to leave the house without them, even in my pajamas." Her teeth chattered as the wind cut through her clothes and the snow beneath her feet sent burning pain up her legs.

Sebastian rose a phone to his lips, he was on speaker, "Got her."

"Near the entrance?" Jack's voice, her eyes widened staring at it. Really?

Sebastian leaned forward looking into the car. "Yes, shall I send the rest of them forward?"

There was a long silence. "Walk them up here, James wants to have a word with all involved."

Agatha swayed on her feet, "I'm sure he already knows, but apparently they were consulting me for something that was against 'M'." Her voice was shaking from the cold that seeped deeper into her skin.

"Oh?" There was a soft voice in the background, James.

"I thought you said you were a professional." Asshat Douche hissed at her from the car.

"Oh and kidnapping me means you get to keep client confidentiality?!" Agatha cackled through her teeth chattering.

"Out." Sebastian waved his gun after hanging up with James and Jack. The attendants in the car followed his direction, holding their hands up. They shut the car door behind them and as they walked away Agatha started to follow. "No. You stay here." Sebastian held up a hand to stop her.

"You're kidding." Sebastian raised a gun at her.

"Fine, whatever." Agatha sat on the hood of the car, it was still warm under her as she pulled her feet up. The car beeped locked under her as they all continued to walk away. If she ever met the driver again she would have personal beef with him. She sat there curled up watching the flames rise from the building. Where the hell was the fire department? 'M' is for money she supposed.

She hoped that they would hurry up and give her a ride home. It was freaking late.

A silhouette in red started rushing from the warehouse, passing Sebastian and company. Jack. Agatha groaned, here comes the yelling. The threats, the 'if you wanted to disappear I could help you out ya know?' Or something else along those lines. She watched with passive eyes, why was he rushing so fast? The cold nipped and made her skin sting, and the car was cooling down quickly.

"Agatha!" Jack called out, he huffed and puffed stream of white smoke into the frozing night air.

"Jack." Agatha nodded a greeting.

"Why the fuck are you so calm right now?" He shouted as he reached her.

"Well I'm safe. I am hoping I get to hurt another one of those guys. But all in all Jack, I'm just tired. This was been a weird night. I've never had a client try and kidnap me before."

"Really." He stared at her, his mouth pulled into a disgusted frown, "after everything, that's what you have to say?!"

"Thank you?" Agatha tilted her head, what did he want from her?

"You are an idiot. When a client comes to you in the middle of the night you make sure your field is controlled by yourself. You don't go out to where they have a car and more power and more ability to do stuff than you!"

"Oh yes, sorry, my TOTAL fucking bad. How could I have forgotten criminal politics oh so easily! Dude I've been at this a while and this is the first time anyone has done something like this."

Jack leaned onto the hood of the car, practically snarling, "This is the first time I know of where you really had a name for yourself and were going to set up meetings vs people coming and hanging out with you in some little mamby pamby bakery!"

"Hey! That bakery was like a home!" Agatha poked his chest and immediately recoiled back into the little ball of warmth she was trying to create.

"Dammit Agatha, don't you get it. I-We... all- could've lost you." His hands balled into fists on the car next to her.

She sighed looked at him, "yeah I get it. I'm sorry, it was a stupid mistake. I'll try to remember to keep my guard up around everyone."

"Especially-"

"Especially you." Agatha sighed looking over his shoulder at the flaming building.

"No." She glanced back at him. "Especially around anyone who might take you away from me." Jack reached up and gently placed his warm hand on her neck, she leaned into it. She didn't want to but it was so warm. "I should wring your neck here and be done with it." Agatha chuckled even as his hand squeezed the side of her neck lightly.

She looked up into his frowning face, his red eyes looked hard and tired. "I would run, really I would, it's just too freaking cold right now." The look softened, still there wasn't his usual glint.

"Come here." He stepped back, she found herself pouting at the heat that moved away. Hesitantly she stepped down off the hood and approached him. "Stand on my feet and face that way." She sighed in resignation and did as she was told. He pulled his jacket forward, "hold these." She did, leaning backwards, feeling his warmth enveloping her, breathing in his warm smell. She wiggled back into him. "Nice pajamas by the way." He rested his chin on top of her head, watching the warehouse burning.

"Thanks." The tension she didn't know was building in her shoulders relaxed. She could give herself this a little bit.

"So I think we have a problem Agatha," Jack tilted his head so his lips brushed against her hair as he spoke.

"Hm?" the heat was leading her into a sleepy haze.

"I think you're becoming my weakness." His voice was a hushed whisper.

Agatha shook her head at him, pulling the jacket tighter and him closer, "shut up."

Old story I wrote - and the picture I commissioned for it

#Aggie Christie #Guard me Sherlock #Jack Stillman #Sebastian Moran #shall we date #arson mentioned #crime mentioned #definitely offscreen murder

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baldwin-montclair · 5 years ago

Text

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 8)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: After the S1 Finale, TV Show canon MOSTLY (some S2 and Shadow of Night).

Summary: Baldwin deals with the fallout of his decision to protect Alisha himself.

Tag requests: @christi14 @poemfreak306 @pookie-cleary

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

———

“Alisha,” Baldwin handed the photos back to Marcus and turned to give her a look of concern, “you need more sleep, it’s still early.”

“I can’t sleep anymore, I need to do stuff. What’s that about?” She nodded to the items Marcus was now hiding in his bag.

“Family matters, very dull and very much not your problem.”

“But-“

“You’re hungry,” Baldwin cut her off walking over to stand in front of her, “you didn’t eat a lot yesterday.”

“I’m not hungry.” She assured him.

“That wasn’t a question.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Alisha!”

She sighed, knowing that she was pushing against a brick wall. If she was ever to find anything out, she had to abandon this route.

“I guess I could eat,” she relented, “and clearly you both have something to talk about so I’ll leave you to it.” She took a step as though she was headed to the kitchen but he caught her hand.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To make breakfast. Is it stupid to ask you both if you want anything?”

“I’m more of a liquid breakfast guy.” Marcus joked.

“We’re fine and you are doing no such thing. Go take a long, relaxing shower and I’ll have something you’ll like ready for when you’re done.”

“Go take a shower? Do I smell so bad?” She asked them with a hint of offence.

“If only,” Baldwin mumbled to himself, “now please, do as I ask?”

“I need clothes!”

“Walk-in, first wardrobe on the left, I had some delivered yesterday.”

“You bought me new clothes?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t choose them, Christina did!”

“I’m such an asshole, I didn’t even ask, how is she?”

“Still a vampire, so mostly recovered. She’ll be by later, wants to check up on you.”

“Good, I’d like to see her, and maybe also see what’s on Michael’s drive?”

“Long day.” Marcus commented.

“One thing at a time,” Baldwin answered pointedly, “go.”

“Yes, my Lord.” She hit back with sarcasm with an awful curtsy.

“Don’t say that, he might like it!” Marcus scrunched up his noise in disgust.

“Might?” Baldwin didn’t look at Marcus but instead gave Alisha a mischievous wink followed by a nod of the head in the direction of his huge walk-in closet.

“She seems better than yesterday at least.” Marcus commented when she was out of earshot.

“It’s been a long, hellish, few days for her. She’s strong, she’ll survive this!”

“Then, what? You just wave her off after her testimony at the congregation? Wish her well and go your separate ways?”

“I can feel you straining for a point Marcus and it’s painful to endure. Out with it!”

“Last night was a mistake! When she does finally go face Gerbert and Domenico, they will smell you all over her. I don’t care how long or relaxing a shower she takes, your claim is very much on her!”

“And I believe I told you not to discuss matters you don’t understand. I have put no claim on her, I have neither fed on her, nor have I possessed her in any other way!”

“You didn’t even hesitate, when Guillermo had her by the throat. I saw it, you didn’t weigh up what killing him could cost.”

“Just because it appears I act without thought, does not mean it’s not happening.”

“I know your mind works fast Baldwin, I’m telling you, there was nothing going on but animal fury. I’ve seen you in battle, and fighting with Matthew but I have never seen that expression before. You weren’t calculating, your brain was not engaged, it was primeval!”

“Please drop the poetic flourish. Like I said, he harmed someone under my roof and protection, yes, I was angry!”

A beep from a cell phone nearby alerted his attention and he picked it up to see the caller ID.

“Fuck,” he swore, “of all the things I don’t need right now!”

“Who is it?” Marcus asked but Baldwin had already hit the button to pick up the call

“Agatha.” Baldwin answered.

“Where is she?” The daemon responded, just as curtly.

“Miss Black is under the protection of the Knights of Lazarus, she will be delivered to the Congregation when it is safe to do so, given the attempt already made on her life.”

“Michael was killed by one of your kind and you expect me to surrender Alisha to your hands. Also, you owe me, unless you’ve forgotten. If it wasn’t for the daemons you’d be a pile of ash!”

Marcus frowned at this overheard statement.

“Do not play games with me Agatha! We both know the only reason you helped me was for your son and his family, all of whom are right now taking refuge in my family estate.“

“Are you threatening them.”

“I am no more a threat to them as I am to Alisha.”

There was a sharp inhale at the other end of the line.

“So it is true? I was told of your indiscretion with the girl by her orchestra master but I didn’t believe it until now. I did think you were above that sort of thing however, keeping a Nightingale is a move Gerbert or Knox would make.”

“Do not call her that!” Baldwin answered sharply and Marcus could swear he heard her heartbeat skip in fright over the bad line.

“What should I call it when a vampire or witch take whatever they want with no regard to the consequences.”

“If memory serves, you actively assisted Matthew and the witch, why are consequences suddenly such a concern to you?”

“Like you said, that affected my family and, from what I saw, your brother genuinely cares for Diana Bishop. I have no issues with her, she can take care of herself and she is not one of my own. Alisha is, and she has no defence against whatever game you are playing.”

“You’ll have to take me at my word that she is safest with me.”

“Is she a prisoner?”

“No.”

“A thrall?”

“I’m not Gerbert.” Baldwin answered through gritted teeth.

“No-one has seen her in the past two days Baldwin.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Knox has contacted me,” she continued, “with completely fake concern for her. If you don’t provide proof that she is alive and well there is every chance they will take that as pretext to move against you.”

“They?”

“I don’t trust Domenico and Gerbert may well be Satan himself, you at least have a code of honour. The daemons will not move against you in this matter if you promise me, right now that she is both alive and well.”

“She’s alive. Gerbert’s lackey Guillermo almost drained her but she’s mostly recovered from that. She’s lost someone dear to her so, again, it’ll take time.”

“When you arrive in Venice, I want to see her first, before the Congregation!”

“Understood.” Baldwin hung up.

“What was that about the daemons helping you?”

“Gerbert making a power play is what I call a Tuesday, Marcus, it is nothing to be concerned about. He was trying to use my refusal to hand over Matthew and Diana as grounds to replace me.”

“What now, they want to see her?”

Baldwin pulled up the Calendar on his phone.

“They will! There is something I have to do first.”

———

Alisha stepped out of the shower and dried off before dressing and exiting the bathroom to an empty apartment.

She followed the alluring scent of breakfast to the kitchen and found a post-it note beside a silver plate cover.

Eat.

Christina will be over soon. I’ll explain everything later. B x

She wondered what someone who didn’t even eat would need a domed plate cover for.

Entertaining guests, obviously.

Not long after she’d eaten, the sound of the door opening alerted her to the fact she was no longer alone.

“Alisha!” Christina called out.

“Christina.” Alisha followed her voice to the main room and noticed three other women behind her. She moved to hug the vampire but noted her freeze for a second.

“What?” Alisha asked.

Christina just shook her head and pulled Alisha into a hug.

“What’s happening?” Alisha asked, noting the the rack of stunning dresses being wheeled in behind the strangers.

“Baldwin is taking you to a silent auction. He was invited some time ago, had no intention of attending.”

“Why is he?”

“I think he wanted to get you out of the house.”

“Are we ready?” Asked a woman with the measuring tape around her neck and a pin cushion bracelet around her wrist.

———

Brian Cassidy closed the door of his office and the sound of musical practicing a few rooms over.

That’s when he felt it, the cold creeping into his bones from the focal point between his shoulder blades. The uninvited guest was behind him.

He glanced at the door handle, calculating his chances.

“Your dismembered hand would reach the corner of the room before it made it to the handle!” The voice answered his unasked question.

“Step away from the door and turn around, slowly!” The voice commanded, his tone as cold as his stare.

Brian did as he was ordered, his expression one of fear upon seeing the surprise visitor.

“De Clermont,” his voice shook, “here to kill me like you did poor Michael?”

Baldwin gave a theatrical sigh.

“Now, why would I do that?”

“The girl, just like the witch your brother abducted, you De Clermont’s-“

His sentence was stopped by the acute lack of air caused by his being lifted inches from the ground by the throat.

“I don’t hear the phrase ‘you de Clermont’s’ come out of your mouth a second time. Do you understand?”

The daemon nodded and Baldwin sat him back down on his feet, choking for air.

“Who did you have spy on Alisha Black and why?”

“There was no spying,” he explained, “Michael was friend, I was doing him a favour!”

“By threatening her?”

“An idle threat, I assure you. Regardless of her choice, it was important to Michael that she be kept safe!”

“Is that why you told Guillermo?”

“Who?”

Baldwin stared at him for a moment before realising his confusion was real.

“The vampire who killed Michael and almost killed Alisha!”

“Is she alright, where is she?”

“She’s safe, answer the question!”

“Of course I didn’t talk to a vampire. I told Agatha Wilson though.”

“I’m aware.”

“I had to,” Brian answered with mock concern, “fraternising between species is prohibited under the covenant.”

“I get it-“

“Much in the same way that daemons gathering together is also against the coven-“

“You’ve made your point!” Baldwin cut him off.

“And you’ve made that girl a target.”

“Believe me, her life was endangered by whatever it was your friend was involved in.“

“It was always in danger, you brought her to their attention.”

Baldwin’s eyes narrowed in understanding.

“Why would a daemon be a target, what did Michael know?”

“You’ll have to kill me because I would die before I put her in further danger by telling you anything!”

Baldwin cocked his head to the side and approached slowly, like a predator sizing up it’s prey. Despite his fear, Brian stood resolute.

“No matter,” Baldwin shrugged, remembering the drive Michael left Alisha, “you clearly have concern for her. Worth keeping you alive at least.”

Baldwin walked towards the door.

“De Clermont.” Brian called after him.

Baldwin stopped but didn’t turn around.

“As much as I loathe you and your family for your part in the daemons struggles, I care about her more. We’re not capable of standing against your kind or the witches. Agatha means well but you can’t let her take the girl-”

“No-one is taking her from me,” Baldwin cut him off and turned to fix the daemon with a cold stare, “stay in New York where I can find you. If I have to hunt you down I cannot promise to be as merciful! again.”

Alisha glanced down at her plunging neckline, barely concealed by the lace that covered up the bodice part of the dress, with trepidation.

“Am I being auctioned off?” She half-joked.

“Stop it, you look amazing!” Christina scolded, fluffing out the skirts, made up of what had to be thousands of soft black feathers that made up the bottom part of the gown.

“Black tie event, black dress.” Geraldine, the seamstress, explained as she buttoned the last fastening at the nape of Alisha’s neck.

“It’s crazy soft.” Alisha ran her fingers through the feathers.

“Almost done.” Helen, the hair stylist pinned the last braid into the updo she’d fashioned for the event, leaving just two wayward curls to frame Alisha’s face, the rest swept up into a complicated latticework that would be impossible to replicate on her own.

With Christina in front of her, she knew Baldwin had returned with the cold sensation of his gaze upon her.

“Well,” She asked without turning around, “will I do?”

“You’re perfect.” He answered and she noted the satisfied glances between Helen and Geraldine.

They said their goodbyes and well wishes for the evening and left.

“Will there be any other vampires there tonight?” Christina asked Baldwin.

“More than likely.” He admitted.

“Then tell her, she doesn’t know the rules.” She chided him before turning back to Alisha.

“I won’t see you for a few days. I’m heading to London but I’m sure we’ll catch up again soon.” The vampire told Alisha, giving her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze before giving Baldwin a farewell nod.

With Christina gone, they were alone again.

“Look at you!” Alisha grinned, admiring the bow tie and tuxedo combination.

“Trust me, no-one will be looking at me tonight!”

“Where’s Marcus?”

“He had to leave, urgent business at home.”

“Any other nieces or nephews around?”

“Well, there’s Gallowglass. He will be attending this event.”

“So I get to meet more members of the De Clermont Clan?” She smiled.

“In time.”

“Even your infamous brother?”

“Not if I can help it!” He answered decisively, his tone failing to disguise the suppressed shudder.

She frowned.

“You don’t get on?”

“That’s...putting it mildly! Matthew has issues and I have no intention of putting a warmblood in his path!”

She nodded, deciding not to push.

To say she’d figured out how to ‘manage’ him would be wrong but she knew when to retreat from a line of questioning. If she pushed too hard she’d get nothing and he’d be more reticent to provide further detail in the future.

“Sorry,” she gave him a contrite smile, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Happily forgiven,” he approached and took her hand in his, “we have to discuss the rules.”

“That sounds ominous.” She retorted, recognising the topic shift.

“I know but it’s actually very simple. Do not offer your hand in greeting to anyone tonight. If they are human, they will offer theirs first.”

“And if they’re a vampire?”

“They won’t touch you.”

“Guillermo did.”

“That was then.” He answered quickly, his thumb lightly stroking her wrist just above her pulse.

“Given what you did to him I can understand someone else been wary about trying the same.”

“There’s more to it than that.” He admitted

“I’m listening.” She prompted gently.

“It’s not easy to explain, its...” he trailed off, trying to buy himself time to think, “vampires are driven by instinct, as civilised as we may appear, and territorial. When Guillermo bit you, he left his scent on you-“

“Do I still smell like him,” she interrupted in a slight panic, “what did he even smell like, is it bad?”

Alisha rubbed at her neck, over a now mostly healed mark.

“That’s weird, it feels...different!”

“I healed the wound with my own blood, just a few drops. It repaired the damage and erased what he did. You don’t have his scent on you, just-“

“Yours?”

He nodded slowly as though reluctant to admit it.

“Last night, I shouldn’t have stayed.”

“I asked you to, and I’m glad you did.”

“You were upset, you weren’t thinking clearly and I should have been. I fucked up, I let you down.”

“So, you think that being an uncaring asshole would have made the situation better?”

“Being genuinely uncaring where you’re concerned would not be possible but, yes, I should have made a performance of it.”

“Do you know why I was so upset last night?” She asked, taking him aback.

“The pen drive, Michael’s name for you. I’m not the most sensitive male you’ve ever met but I’m not completely hopeless!”

“Why last night? Why not the night it happened, before Guillermo showed up?”

“Shock.”

She shook her head.

“No, it’s the same reason I actually managed to sleep last night. It was the first time I’ve felt safe since this whole thing started,” she admitted quietly, “if that’s what being ‘yours’ means, I can live with that.”

“Alisha-“

“We should go.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, not needing a response.

———

PART 9

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actualaster · 5 years ago

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Thinking more about it, it just makes sense that Something happened that caused Agatha to go “well fuck, guess I’m personally training this kid”.

Agatha would not want another apprentice after what happened last time. She would absolutely not be looking for that. Sure, she approached Red and her parents about Ascension but that was a different matter.

So I imagine Red’s like. 14 tops, has only been dealing with her fertility cycle for a few years and only a handful of times because it’s not following a pattern at all, and is in the heightened aggression phase.* So she’s already snappy, snarly, and mostly just wanting to make a nest of blankets and pillows in her room and not come out until she’s back to a stable phase and some asshole is needling her about being of the line of Death (and wasn’t that a revelation lmao) and she’s just like

“Fuck OFF!” and just. Blinks out of existence. Gone. Vanished into thin air.

So naturally the thought is “oh SHIT she has TELEPORTATION MAGIC?!” except she turns back up like 2 minutes later 3 feet to the left, flat on the ground, and there’s something clinging to her back.

Nobody can really describe it after the fact, but it hurts to look at it. Eyes burning, head aching, one person had to look away because their eyes started bleeding and another nearly passed out. Reality is fraying around the edges and it’s clear its Other.

Around this point is when Agatha shows up, having heard her newest Ascension candidate screaming with all the fury of hell in her voice. Agatha knows a great many things, and can figure out what’s going on and raps out orders immediately to stop looking at it and “Gerald don’t fucking touch it unless you want to go the way Atlantis did, you idiot!” and grabs another candidate by the back of his shirt and yanks him away and she’s just wondering what his damage is because “You are 35 and you can’t fucking tell when you shouldn’t touch something yet?!” Because some people are just Like That.

They get somebody that can work realmshift magic there and send the Other thing back where it came from and get Red checked out to make sure there’s nothing else hidden away that could cause problems and by this point Red is about ready to murder somebody.

Agatha has Suspensions because Red should still have at least a day or two more before she’s this aggressive, even accounting for the added stress from whatever happened and also it suddenly looks like she hasn’t slept in 2 days or so when she was fine an hour ago.

Normally she’d just say “wait it out” and all, but this could be a very serious matter so she orders a medic to assess if a cycle-kill is viable because they need answers now for Red’s own safety.

There’s the question of if it will work because of Red’s natural chaos magic and all, and magic suppressants don’t work on her, but they go ahead with it also because she’s getting extremely agitated and aggressive and there is a definite chance that if she isn’t either administered a cycle-kill or isolated in a low-sensory environment immediately she will get violent because she��s super stressed and overwhelmed on top of it.

Double the usual dosage and a bit of time for it to work later, she’s very tired but otherwise okay and Agatha gets the story from her.

Turns out she’s been awake for almost 2 days trying to find her way back because she ended up moving to a world where time flows differently and she had no idea how she got there or what she was doing. Which confirms Agatha’s suspicions that “oh fuck this child is a Realmtreader”.

So Agatha is like “...So she’s like 14 and already committed to Ascension which will make her immortal, she’s got crazy high raw magical power and her natural affinity is chaos magic, she’s of the line of Death--specifically she’s descended from the First Demon albeit before he fully transformed, and now she’s a Realmtreader on top of it. Welp, there’s no way I can just let anybody get there hands on her, guess she’s mine to train now.”

And that’s how Red ends up apprenticed to be the next Keeper. Much to the shock, horror, and fear of quite a few people because they remember what happened the last time demonic taint was involved. (Mind you, that was a very different case, but still.)

*While she uses female pronouns, and has several features in common with real-world ciswomen, Red’s world features 4-5 very distinct sexes and Red is one of these alternative sexes.

#red the panda #agatha the keeper

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yeah-oh-shit · 5 years ago

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so im still trying to figure out wtf dracula was all about and if there is a deeper meaning at all. i compiled a list of all my observations - especially places where it might relate to sherlock, things that seem odd/out of place, important thematic moments, anything that is unexplained. idk if i will come back to this to try to piece it together more, but i needed to get it all down so i could look at it in its wholeness. in case you are interested, here is my commentary, any “points of interest,” i found, below the cut.

episode 1:

vampirism is a contagion, sister agatha asks harker if he had “sexual intercourse” with dracula right away - aids

flies everywhere, on windows, the camera lens, one flies into harker’s eye

why did dracula let himself become such an old man? no one good to eat? (i’ve been telling everyone for years that you are what you eat)

story told by harker w/sister agatha interviewing him, almost leading him on

harker’s written account is unreliable

woman in disguise - mina (reminds me of mary)

rainbow lighting

spiral candles match spiral bedpost

sister agatha mentions a “point of interest”

dracula calls jonathan johnny (john mirror?)

inconsistencies: picture of mina changes from right to left, harker says no one calls him johnny (but mina later shows that she does - johnny blue eyes)

THERE IS NO BABY

dates - 12th, 19th, and 29th (!!)

scene very similar to the fall - “you are me,” dracula tries to get harker on his side but harker refuses

dracula says he will “destroy everyone and everything you love” in england

harker is found by sailors and said to be a drowned man walking/talking after he falls from castle dracula

lots of queer coding and it’s during the parts where dracula is shown as the most monstrous and coercive

sister agatha taunts dracula, calls him a beast (rules of the beast), he is indeed shown as beastly

dracula licks a knife in a suggestive way (moriarty)

inviting dracula in leads to death

harker doesn’t remember what happened to him (doesn’t know he is dead)

harker doesn’t know what mina’s face looks like

mina says a line much like mary’s (“i decide who you are”)

sister agatha mentions having a detective acquaintance in london (!!)

dracula is an old man for most of the episode, doesn’t come off as flirty or sexy to me, just seems coercive, controlling, and creepy. we barely get any time w/harker and dracula together, doesn’t seem like they have much chemistry

jonathan in and out of dream, weakened, coerced

he keeps going deeper into the castle and eventually discovers dracula’s undead and even dracula’s crypt itself but can’t find the person who wrote him a note

castle is a maze but jonathan discovers the map (hiding behind a portrait, deduces this in a way that makes pretty much no sense)

sun is equated to lover’s face

dracula never seems to lie, just says things in a truthful way that is obfuscated (except for when he knocks the mirror over and claims to being clumsy)

dracula wants to go to england bc he thinks the most cultured and rich people live there (aristocratic bullshit) but it is reinforced so many times that somehow him being choosy has helped him to live a long time .. confusing

episode 2:

starts w/dracula and agatha talking in his castle. dracula talks about how a story has to be interesting from the beginning, the contract between author and reader, “quality of time”

“there’s a game in progress” “a knight is menacing a queen” “whose knight, whose queen?” “Who’s black, who’s white”

ship in a bottle

whole episode takes place on a big ship

sokolov (anderson) is captain (steering the ship)

mind palace/dreaming (sr. agatha and dracula) in castle but actually in room 9 on ship

mr balaur (dragon - dracula) brought all these people together

7 passengers on the ship (unusual, stated multiple times, i don’t think we are ever told significance?)

one sick - captain is only one allowed in

piotr isn’t who he says he is

dracula kills dorabella (very flirty with her) talks about mirrors showing the truth - “one can always find a mirror if one tries” “mirrors are a deeper and more dangerous magic than most people understand. mirrors can give us space to imagine or worse, show us the truth”

“this marriage is a necessary evil”

confirmed gay couple (lord ruthven and adisa) - lord ruthven talks about sleeping with his wife in front of adisa constantly (cruel), adisa is disguised as a servant, adisa seems to really love ruthven

many people jump ship when everyone starts dying

lord ruthven is both very gay and very mean - and into dracula

dracula and agatha play chess

“the purpose of an alias seems to have alluded you” (mr. balaur means dragon means dracula, a disguise is “always a self portrait”)

dracula says he is choosy (so does agatha) but also recognizes that he is an addict (agatha’s word) - claims to be choosy and to be like everything in same breath

dracula called a beast, acts very animal around blood - can’t control himself

agatha loses time during chess, notices dracula is winning now, is also drinking blood out of a glass

he tells her to “forget about the chess and concentrate on the game”

dracula frames agatha, almost kills her via hanging (despite trying to “savor” her)

sister agatha claims she is a vampire and then tries to prove dracula is one

lord ruthven wants to be “partners” with dracula

somehow dracula appears out of nowhere in the cabin of dr. sharma

vampire’s kiss is an opiate - makes people dream

emphasis on the fact that the daughter can see (eyes!), her father has a scar over his right eye

dracula flirts with everyone

no one suspects dracula even though its really obvious it is him?? he is being hella suspicious?

daughter (who sees dracula killing) doesn’t tell anyone, later kills herself by drinking a potion to avoid becoming infected

sister agatha is infected/dying, losing fingernails (like harker)

dracula will die without his soil

captain sokolov stays behind in ship w/agatha, piotr and cook escape

agatha discovers extra soil in dracula’s bed, realizes the fire didn’t kill him

dracula attacks sokolov but somehow he doesn’t die and can’t walk even though his wound is in his neck but still is able to DRAG himself?

dracula explains fear of cross as fear of oppression that he has inherited from eating peasants (but he is very choosy with his diet?)

ship sinks, sister agatha dies (implied, which is confusing bc harker also goes into the sea and doesn’t die.. maybe it has to do with the fact that she doesn’t have any soil? but neither did harker? vampire lore seems convoluted and confusing) dracula finds his soil (in the water)

dracula wakes up, goes ashore, its modern day and helicopters, a spot light, police cars, and modern day sister agatha greet him

episode 3:

weird vibe generally.. almost reminds me of tfp w/lighting and how it feels so off from the rest

dracula shows us that what he sees in the mirror is who he truly is (at least that is what is implied) an old ugly man

dracula is weird and kinda cute when he is amazed by modern times

we learn that agatha apparently died even though she was just in water and harker survived and was a “drowned man walking and talking” ?

jack (another john mirror?) is in love with lucy, there are a lot of scenes in a club ?, lucy gets engaged to a texan named quincy (who was apparently a main character in the original book and is an asshole in this). all these characters kind of suck

jonathan harker keeps calling jack, we are supposed to think he saved the jonathan harker foundation’s phone number in his phone as just “jonathan harker”? seems weird

jonathan harker foundation was started by mina, supported by agatha’s family

lots of allusions to jonathan harker foundation getting money from a “bad” source - too much money to just be about science

mercenaries - one has a tattoo like assassin in sherlock

there is a moving clock on the floor of dracula’s cell/cage

dracula asks why he has a toilet when he is a vampire and we never get an answer

dracula’s cage looks like silence of the lambs (like A LOT)

blood is LIVES, dracula helps zoe get a sample of his blood by cutting his wrist with his fingernail - tells her “you have everything you need to know” when she takes his blood (dracula tells zoe, she drinks his blood)

“women don’t have rights, no one has rights” “dracula has rights” ???

zoe starts hallucinating/communicating w/agatha

zoe is agatha’s great niece apparently

dracula does a weird deduction thing about people from smelling or tasting their blood

dracula can’t drink zoe’s blood bc she has cancer and he can’t drink blood of the dying (which seems weird but ok)

renfield (mark) is dracula’s lawyer and seems to become obsessed with him

dracula identifies as a “warlord”

renfield is helping dracula w/“world domination”

dracula is on dating apps, renfield tries to find him people to eat, but he seems dissatisfied

dracula works out (like mycroft)

dracula (d) texts lucy uses vampire emoji

lots of gay/bi/purple lighting

dracula becomes obsessed w/lucy bc she is not afraid of him (or anything) and seems “almost in love with death”

lucy is shown as shallow and obsessed with her looks, but also seems to not like always being seen/watched bc she is beautiful

dracula and lucy are meeting up and she is letting him drink her blood

they meet up and he talks about liking having her “consent” because no one has ever given it before, but also says that it doesn’t really matter and that he doesn’t love her and will never love her

lucy likes the dreams dracula gives her - no one can see her

9 graves of undead

dracula tells lucy not to be cremated because its painful

“boofer lady”- beautiful lady - undead child follows lucy home

renfield sits in a car during their meeting and eats a fly

dracula kills lucy so she can become a vampire, she can’t move but the mirror shows that she is still alive?

we see dracula’s old man face in the mirror multiple times

lucy is burned, and for some reason keeps seeing herself as beautiful in mirrors

agatha (in zoe’s head) talks about the money coming from a bad place again but says she “can’t see it” because zoe doesn’t like to think about it

lucy, jack, zoe, and dracula all meet in dracula’s house

lucy flirts w/jack and he seems disgusted, they force her to take a selfie and see herself as she really is

lucy freaks the fuck out about being ugly and burned and seems to be more obsessed with her beauty after dying which is weird because she seemed to be almost bitter about it when she was alive (didn’t care about or fear anything)

dracula says she will always be burned (why? jonathan survived being drowned, etc. dracula survived fire?) and that he doesn’t care

jack says he will always want to kiss her (even though he was just freaked out by her like 20 seconds ago) kisses her and kills her (at her request)

dracula seems unfazed? even though she was his “greatest bride” ?

zoe has been taken over by agatha? and realizes what the one thing is that dracula fears (the thing that ties together the sun, cross, and needing an invitation - apparently the soil thing doesn’t matter anymore..)

“only one thing in this world you are truly afraid of” - she knows, he doesn’t

he cannot bear to look in a mirror, won’t stand revealed in the sun, needs an invitation to come in - not real things, he has internalized the legends

zoe/agatha says that he was a warrior and so was his entire family (all his relatives, father, brothers, sons, were war heroes who died on the battlefield but not him)

he is the warlord who “skulks in the shadows and steals the lives of others” and is “unwelcome everywhere” “sleeps in a box of dirt but dreams of a warriors grave”

he fears death the most - the cross represents going willingly to death to him, somehow the sun represents this too? (possibly he is afraid to seeing himself/the truth, same as the mirror)

it is never explained how the invitation thing is tied in.. assuming its because he feels “unwelcome everywhere” ?

she pulls the curtain and he doesn’t burn in the sun, shows him it was his fear of death and his shame all along

can’t conquer death until you face it without fear - “the game is over, you lose, you will live forever in shame”

dracula steps into sun, faces his shame

he faces his fear of death by drinking agatha’s blood, thus dying by suicide (which we were already told vampires can’t do)

gross fiery sex scene with agatha and dracula, he gives her a dream so she will have a nice death

“after all this time did you think I’d let it hurt?” ???

they are in a burning sun and are naked together in a circle, we see dracula’s butt again

it ends with the sun

#bbc dracula #wtf #bbc dracula spoilers #sherlock connections? maybe? IDK #basically a plot summery w/annotations bc i don't know what else to do rn

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