#‘Mr. Morris I’m waiting. Mr. Morris… MR. MORRIS!!’

[lady-dulcinea]

Lucy dances with Quincey at the Pop

from the Milwaukee Ballet's production of Michael Pink's Dracula Luz San Miguel as Lucy Westenra Parker Brasser-Vos as Quincey P. Morris

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx

Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader

wc: 4,600

Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college. 

As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way. 

It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars. 

Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time. 

“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.” 

You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson. 

“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe. 

Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.

Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind. 

Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.

It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.

When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.

Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.” 

You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.

“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”

“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”

Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest. 

Her hands—

Her hands—

What is wrong with you, Joe?

Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin.  Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep. 

…

Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains. 

“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued.  The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before. 

The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.

As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.

Right in front of you! What is going on?

“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”

Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.

There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”

About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags. 

Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off. 

Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.

“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.

“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear. 

When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world. 

You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”

You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.

…

The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.

“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.” 

“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”

“Ouch, that hurts me.”

“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right. 

“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.” 

Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”

“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.” 

Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout. 

Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”

“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”

“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.

He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you.  He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too. 

His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”

“Then who else would I be?” 

“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious. 

“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”

“You too are good friends then?”

“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape. 

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.

Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”

“None of the girls from high school? Never?”

“Not one.”

You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do. 

People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”

“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt. 

“Can I walk you home?”

“I would love that.”

Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?” 

“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him. 

“His parents remind me of my own.”

Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”

“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”

“Hey now,”

“Sorry.” You take his hands.

He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.” 

Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.

When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”

…

The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away. 

He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.

…

Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. 

His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse. 

Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it. 

Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.

You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”

“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”

“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.

“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”

You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.

After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak. 

“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in. 

“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”

“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.

Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”

“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”

“I know.

“Really?”

“Pocock made sure I know.”

The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”

“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”

You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat. 

You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist. 

“Can I—may I kiss you?”

Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart. 

“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”

...

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.

-the author

[demonrubberduck]

MinaxJonathan, knife, waiting for the Czarina Catherine while Mina is gradually changing more and more

His and Hers Knives

(Summary: PG-13 for mentions of suicide and a swear

Jonathan has knives for Dracula, or for anyone else who might try to separate him from Mina, and Mina has a knife of her own.)

The gentle scrape of blade upon whetstone did not awaken Mina. It was a quiet, soothing sound, though Jonathan doubted even the passing by of a circus could rouse her from her slumber before she was ready. Regardless, he tried to keep quiet while she slept, and he doubted this sound would have even bothered her before she’d been bitten.

Not that he was the sort to sharpen knives in the wee hours, before. Much had changed in the past few months. He wasn’t the same man who had set out on a train to Buda-Pesth and beyond for an ailing Mr. Hawkins.

A few more strokes had his kukri knife razor sharp. He set it aside and drew another knife, a Bowie, from a sheath within his waistcoat. He wet the stone, then began sharpening its blade. 

He kept four knives on his person, these days. The kukri was the most obvious. It was the statement, and the other concealed blades whatever punctuation it required. Let it not be said that Jonathan Harker wasn’t communicative.

He sharpened the Bowie, then his boot knife, and finally the curved karambit. This had become his nightly ritual, almost a knightly ritual, as he watched over Mina’s unnatural slumber. Dracula had come upon her in their bedchamber. Never again. Though Dracula was far away, concealed in the bowels of the Czarina Catherine, Jonathan still kept his vigil.

It wasn’t only for Dracula that he sharpened his blades. Van Helsing and Seward’s eyes were ever on Mina, assessing her sluggish pulse and her sharpening teeth and that terrible burned mark upon his pale forehead. If they could not hunt down and destroy Dracula to free Mina’s soul, they would come for her.

And if they did, they would find Jonathan. 

There would have to be a strategy to the order in which he addressed them, he knew. If they brought Godalming and Morris along, they would have to be dealt with first, though he’d have to be wary of Seward’s right hook if his phonograph entries were to be believed. Van Helsing would be last. Though his brain was the biggest threat to Mina’s continued existence, his body was slow and frail with age, and with the others gone, he would be easy to dispatch.

“Jonathan.”

If the two doctors came alone, that would be better. They might, if they underestimated Jonathan’s devotion to Mina. Then he could silence them, and catch Morris and Godalming unawares. 

“Jonathan.”

It wouldn’t be easy to take a life, but he could steel himself for Mina’s sake. A man had to protect his wife. ‘Til death do us part,’ what weak resolve was that? He would be hers beyond death, beyond ‘un-death’.

“Jonathan!” Chill hands and an insistent voice drew him from his dark thoughts, and he finally blinked and saw that Mina had awoken and taken his hands in her own around the hilt of his kukri, which he must have picked back up at some point of his musings. Mina’s hands looked ethereally pale against his.

“My love, where were you?” she asked. Here she was, so sickly pale, yet worried about him. He shook his head.

“Lost in thought.” He put the knife down so he could take her hands properly. “I’m sorry.”

She kissed him, just a chaste press of lip to lip. They had not known each other as husband and wife since she’d been bitten. Mina felt herself unclean, and though Jonathan thought her still as pure and holy as an angel, he would not press her into couplings she did not enthusiastically welcome. These light touches would suffice him. 

“I fear I’ll be asleep again soon. Come lie by me, while we still have time.”

Jonathan sat his kukri on the bedside table and joined Mina in bed. She pulled something from beneath her pillow and pressed it into his hands.

It was another knife, in a leather sheath, its handle wrapped in a black ribbon tied securely in a knot.

“I asked Mr. Morris to get me a blade. It’s a fine one, isn’t it?” Mina motioned for Jonathan to unsheath it.

He drew it out. It was a simple boning blade, thin and straight, almost delicate, especially when compared to his kukri. Jonathan ran his finger along the flat of the blade, then against the silk ribbon-wrapped hilt.

“I see you decorated it.” 

Mina smiled at him. “Yes, it’s silly, but I wanted to make it my own. Will you show me how to sharpen it?”

Jonathan nodded. There was nothing he could deny her, except… except that which she’d asked at her ‘funeral’. 

“In the daylight hours, when you’re more awake,” he promised. He slid it back into its sheath and handed it back to her.

“Good. I need it to be sharp.”

“God be willing, you’ll never get close enough to Dracula or any other enemy to need a sharp knife,” he said. He reached over and picked up the kukri. “That’s what this is for.”

She smiled again, lips closed. All of her smiles were like that, these days. Hiding her teeth, fearing the day they became fangs. 

“I know it is. Each thing has its purpose, Jonathan. This knife is not for him. It’s for… it’s for me.”

Her voice caught, and Jonathan looked up at her sharply.

“No,” he said. He reached over to take the knife from her, but she drew it away and cradled it to her breast. He could have wrested it away from her, but he couldn’t bear to handle her so harshly, so he drew back, letting her keep the little blade.

“Listen to me, husband,” she pleaded. “I can feel myself changing. I am clinging to the same hope we all are, but… but we must be ready, in case that hope fails.”

“That is what the kukri is for,” he said again. “If we cannot be together as man and wife, then I will serve you as your protector and thrall, and keep away any who would harm you. You can have my blood, my body, my life. As long as we’re together, I don’t care about anything else!”

“But I do!” Mina’s voice rose to match his own in volume and passion. “Perhaps you could find it in your heart to love me as a vampire, but I could not love myself. I must be human, or else I must be a corpse. If you love me, listen to me.”

Jonathan loved her, and so he listened. He forced his hand to release the white-knuckled grip on the kukri’s handle.

“Go on, then,” he whispered.

She nodded, and her eyes shone with tears as she continued.

“I borrowed a book on anatomy from Dr. Seward to be sure. This little blade should be long enough to pierce a heart. If Dracula escapes us and the transformation is upon me, I want you to…”

A sob interrupted her, and she swallowed hard. “I want you to use it on me. I’m very afraid, but I think if it’s such a thin blade, and if it’s plenty sharp and in the hands of someone I love… I think, then, that I could bear it.”

Jonathan couldn’t hold back his tears at the thought of that, and both of them took each other by the hand, crying. 

“A-and I would w-want you to go on with your life, and find happiness, but…”

“Without you? There could never be such a thing,” Jonathan interrupted. 

Mina nodded, and wiped a hand at her eyes. “I know, my love. And if that be the case, then, this knife can be for you as well.”

Jonathan drew her into his arms. “Thank you, my dearest. Thank you.” Her words delivered to him such profound relief that he hasn’t known since she’d arrived by his side at the Hospital of Saint Joseph and Saint Mary in Budapesh to marry him. He could face whatever peril, so long as at the end of it, he ended up where she was, be it heaven, hell, or their home in Exeter.

“It’ll be romantic, in a way,” Mina said, head nestled into his shoulder, her tears beginning to soak through his nightshirt. “Our hearts’ blood, mingled together on one blade. Together to the end.”

Jonathan nodded. “I c-can draw up our wills, that we will be buried together, in the same coffin, with this knife laid beside us if you’d like.”

He felt her nod against his neck. His wonderful, perfect bride and her obsession with the macabre. How he adored her.

They held each other until their tears had all been shed, and then Jonathan wiped first her eyes, then his own with his handkerchief. 

Mina’s eyelids began to sink lower, her pulse slowing. She yawned, but made barely a sound. 

“I fear… I cannot stay awake much longer….” 

Jonathan lowered her down onto the bed. “Sleep, love.”

He tucked her in, and took his seat once more. Now he had five knives to sharpen during his vigil. He held the kukri in his right hand, the little boning knife in his left, considering both. Dracula would die, or the Harkers would. 

He raised the kukri up, admiring the deadly sharp edge of the blade. It would be Dracula or the Harkers, and they knew where Dracula fucking slept.

[fahye]

hello fahye!!!

i’ve recently become rather obsessed with the last binding like i’ve been telling everyone i know to read it (i like to think i’m your number 1 promoter atm) i just love your series so much and i think it deserves all the praise in the world because it just encompasses queer joy and is exactly what i’ve been looking for in a book trilogy for the longest time

I just was curious about 2 things:

1. is the scene where mrs navenby possesses maud in a restless truth inspired by the scene in good omens where aziraphale possesses madame tracy because it reminded me a lot of that scene when i was reading it

2. if you can remember i’m very curious as to the exact william morris works featured in a marvellous light because i love that you included all the little references to art they make my little art historian brain feel very happy (i feel like you’d be happy to know that since reading a marvellous light i found myself a little william morris zip up pouch that i carry my e-reader around in)

anyway thank you sm i absolutely adore your books and i cannot wait to read a power unbound i don’t know how i’m gonna survive until november 😭

hello! thank you!

I won't say that it was a direct and deliberate homage, but certainly that scene is one of the main references in my mental lexicon when I think about a semi-cooperative possession of one being by another. good omens was such a favourite of mine for such a long time; I'm sure its fingers of influence are all through the things I write!

oh gosh. it's been some time but I think these are the main ones described or referenced:

maud's room in penhallick has strawberry thief wallpaper, and edwin and robin stay in rooms papered in the willow-bough design. I think the blackthorn design is the one I described for the main parlour; if not, it was one very similar, because I remember the small white flowers.

[canary0]

May 24 - Dracula 2023

Via Discord

Lucy: MINA. MINA WHAT IS HAPPENING.

Mina: Are you okay?!

Lucy: I mean. Yes. But. Also no? I can’t.

Mina: Lucy, you need to slow down and tell me what happened.

Lucy: THREE PROPOSALS HAPPENED, MINA.

Mina: Wait, like… marriage proposals?

Lucy: YES.

Mina: … Okay, I need to hear the whole story. Oh! I bet I know two of them.

Lucy: Oh, you think so, hmm? Okay, what are your guesses?

Mina: That man you were talking about being in love with, and the doctor who was saying weird stuff about you being an interesting psych study. That sounds like awkward guy-ese for “I want to get to know you better.”

Lucy: Clever. Yes! I can’t believe it! It’s wonderful! But also terrible, because I had to disappoint two of them… Oh, but don’t tell anyone! You know how some of the girls can be. They’d be expecting six proposals as soon as they got home.

Mina: Of course I won’t say anything. So, give me all the gory details.

Lucy: Okay, well… You can’t tell anyone. Absolutely not a single soul except for Jonathan, because you tell him everything. I know I would do the same, so that’s completely fine. But you and him can’t tell anyone. Okay?

Mina: Lucy. I promise on my honor and very soul that I won’t speak a word of this to anyone except Jonathan. I swear.

Lucy: All right… I trust you. So, the first one was just as you said – Dr. Seward, from the Asylum. He played at being calm, but it was obvious how nervous he was. He was playing with a lancet of all things, Mina. I mean, they’re so tiny that I don’t think they can do horrendous harm, but anything sharp like that still makes me nervous.

Mina: Wow. I expect a little more responsibility from a doctor.

Lucy: That’s probably just how nervous he was. He told me that, while we hadn’t known each other long, he truly cared about me and wanted me to be part of his life. He stopped quickly, because I had started crying – I couldn’t help myself! He seemed so earnest, and you know how I feel about Arthur.

Mina: Yes, of course.

Lucy: He asked if we could potentially see each other at least, see where things go, but all I could do was shake my head. I think he got the idea; he asked if I was taken, and I nodded.

Mina: Did he get weird about it?

Lucy: He was so nice about it. He did his best to smile and took my hands, and told me very seriously that he hoped I would have all the happiness in the world, and he’d be proud to call himself my friend if I needed one.

Lucy: Mina, even if it turns out we never see each other again, it means so much that he responded like that. I know that’s probably what the actual outcome will be, but still. I hope we can be friends. Even though I’m happy, I feel terrible, too. It’s so obvious he was heartbroken.

Mina: Oh, sweetheart…

Lucy: Yeah… Oh, I’ll be back soon, Arthur’s here.

Mina: Go on, let him cheer you up. :)

[Later]

Lucy: I’m back!

Mina: You seem like you’re in better spirits. :)

Lucy: I am. Arthur has that effect. :D

Lucy: SO!

Mina: SO! Tell me about suitor #2.

Lucy: Suitor number 2 would be Mr. Quincey P. Morris. He’s an American from Texas, and I swear he can’t be any older the I am, but he’s apparently been quite the traveler in that time. Apparently he’s had quite a few adventures, too – if a girl were looking for the strong protector type, he’d be it. He has manners worthy of meeting the Queen… or King now, I suppose, strange thought as it is… but he realized pretty early on that it made me laugh when he’d go full Texas., so he presented his case with… and I need to quote here, because it is amazing:

Lucy: “Miss Lucy, I know I ain’t good enough for ya… though I suppose if you were to wait for someone to match up to you, you’d be waitin’ ‘til judgment day. Won’t you just hitch up alongside of me and let us go down the long road together, driving in double harness?”

Mina: omg

Lucy: Right? I didn’t take him seriously at first, so he was a little easier to refuse. I joked back that ‘Oh dear, I just don’t know anything about hitching, nor am I broken to harness…’ Needless to say in the poshest way I could come up with to respond.

Mina: That’s the only way to do it.

Lucy: Exactly. But he said that he was worried I’d take it as a jest if he went too lighthearted, and started pouring his heart and soul out at my feet. I used to think he was all light-hearted, but this definitely was all seriousness. He seemed to come to the same point Dr. Seward did, and asked if I was actually in love with someone else, and I admitted I was again. He was really sweet about it, too, promising his friendship.

Mina: Oh, that’s lovely. I hope they stick to that promise.

Lucy: Well, I know he’s a friend of Arthur’s for sure, so I suppose I’m more likely to see him again to make it true. Either way, he took my hands and assured me that we were friends, and that he’d rather be late for me than on time for any other girl in the world. And that if the person who I love doesn’t end up seeing what he has, he’d have to deal with him.

Mina: So he got a little weird about it.

Lucy: A little weird, but it was in a sweet way, not an ‘I am worried I’m going to find him creeping around outside my window’ way.

Mina: Well, that’s good.

Lucy: As for the third – do I really need to tell you? As soon as he came in, his arms were around me and we were kissing before I knew it. FINALLY.

Mina: Oh, thank goodness. I thought he was never going to actually say the words.

Lucy: I was worried I was imagining things! He’s pretty reserved at times, so I suppose I understand. I’m just glad everything’s settled.

Mina: You keep good company. <3

Lucy: I’m fortunate to have such good company, including you. Speaking of lovers, though, any word from Jonathan?

Mina: … Kind of. Mr. Hawkins apparently received all the real estate documents a couple of weeks ago, and I got something from Jonathan a few days ago.

Lucy: Oh good! Did he finally get some reception and say when he’ll be back

Mina: No. It was snail mail of all things. It was snail mail of all things. He wrote Mr. Hawkins, too, the same way. You know how descriptive Jonathan can be and he just… he wrote like a robot, Lucy.

Lucy: That is weird. Jonathan can be… a lot. Mechanical doesn’t seem like his style.

Mina: Exactly. He’s staying in an old castle in the countryside, and he’s not describing everything about it and the surrounding area and interesting trees around. It’s weird.

Lucy: Maybe he was busy and didn’t have much time?

Mina: Maybe, but his work should be done, right? The paperwork is back. Did his client decide to take advantage of him and get him to do a bunch of other work while he’s handy? And he said he has to stay for a whole additional month!

Lucy: A month!

Mina: Yeah… I can’t say I’m happy about it. If it’s something he needs to do, it is what it is, but… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.

Lucy: Oh, Mina… It’ll be okay. I’m sure his client was just impressed with how awesome he was at his job and started getting him to arrange the move.

Mina: Yeah… You’re probably right. It’s late, I need to get to bed.

Lucy: Okay. Sleep well. Try not to worry too much.

Mina: I will. And… CONGRATULATIONS! :D

Lucy: Thank you! <3

(Author's note forthcoming in another post. This one was a beast.)

[gbveryspecialguests]

At The Superstore…

“Then he’s like: “Since we’re gonna be partners, isn’t it also MY equipment?” And I’m like: “No, Bradley - That is not YOUR equipment! Can you believe it Keith?”

“Ok, what do you want, Kid?”

“Um… I want those.”

“Yeesh - Looks like clay. Eh - We’ll get them.”

——

Meanwhile at School….

“Hey Hey - Isn’t it the Main Lady of the stage? Are you ready for your role at the premiere of Lucid O’ Dare? Be sure to come in practice days!”

“Hey Margo! Aw thanks! Glad you got the role of stage manager! Can’t wait to see your works!”

“Ugh… Stop making these two jobs sound boring!”

“…Todd.”

“You’re playing as Drescella? Niiiiceee.”

“What? You want to see me as the “Princess of your Dreams”, Munroe?”

“Shuttapp, Abs~”

——-

Meanwhile Meanwhile at The Morris House

“MOOOOOM! Why do we have to make EVERY meal for Thanksgiving? Can’t it just wait until it’s a week before my birthday?”

“Now Now, Luke - Ms. Jackson and Mr. Mennis will be here to help us cook. Now don’t complain about your birthday or no triple-shot-flavored cake—“

“Wait what?? Hang on, I’m coming to help!”

[stargazing-imagines]

Don’t leave me! — Zack Morris x fem!reader

Description: it is the year after summer break and you come back to bayside with a dark side, but with the gangs help you get back to your sweet caring self

Warnings: mention of divorce, mention of new step-parent, bad writing, I had to do research for yandere for this so if half of this is wrong. I apologize

Fandom: saved by the bell

Requested: yes but I changed it because I don’t get the Yandere part so if this isn’t what you want, I’m sorry

It was the first day of your senior year and you were dreading it. After hearing the news of your parent’s divorce you style and attitude towards people has changed.

“Hey y/n.” Smiled zack “how come I didn’t see you much this summer?”

“I was busy.” You said as you didn’t take your eyes off of your locker, before shutting it and walking away

“Wait… I’m not done.”

“Save it morris, I don’t want to hear it.”

With that you walked away snuggling your books to your chest, with Zack looking at you weirdly

——

You were at the max reading a textbook before Kelly and the girls sat with you.

“Hey y/n! Why weren’t you at cheer practice?” Asked Kelly as she placed her books onto the table, folding her hands. You rolled your eyes

“I don’t know, decided that wasn’t for me.” You said, your eyes not leaving the book, the three girls looked at each other before looking back at you

“Is everything ok? You seem kinda off.” Asked Kelly

“I’m fine.” You said “see you.”

With that, you left The Max.

---

"Guys we ned to figure out what is wrong with Y/N." said Kelly "It's like talking to another person."

"I agree, she is acting a little weird." said Zack "She doesn't like me flirting with her anymore."

"Its like she is going through an identity crisis." said Jessie

“Maybe something happened to her this summer that she doesn’t want to share it.” Said Mr Belding as he came up the group

“Wait, how do you know?”

“She actually came into my office to talk about it.” Said Mr Belding “apparently her parents are going through a divorce.”

“That’s awful.” Said Kelly as she looked down “What can we do to help her?”

“Maybe you could be there for her instead of trying to figure out what wrong with her.”

“He’s right guys, we need to be there for Y/n.” Said Zack

——

It was that night and you were sitting on your bed packing your bag, as Zack came in

“Hey, may I come in?”

“Sure.” You said as you kept looking at your suitcase

“Why are you packing?” Asked Zack, you sighed before speaking

“My mom doesn’t want me so I’m living with my dad in South Carolina until my mom can get her stuff together,”

“But you are coming back… because I need you.”

“Look, I need you to but maybe this distance will be best for us.” You said “we didn’t exactly work out last year and-“

“Yeah but-“

“Why don’t you date Kelly?” You asked “she seems like a lovely girl.”

After you said that, Zack grabbed you from behind giving you a hug, as his voice breaks

“Please don’t leave me.” Said Zack “I’m sorry for not realizing sooner.”

“I’m sorry Zack but I have to…”

——

Saved by the bell masterlist

[vanderwoodlings]

You can’t make people love you: a Blair Waldorf playlist (x)

Text version of the tracklist (and commentary) under the cut

1. “Being Good Isn’t Good Enough,” Barbra Streisand. Like, uh… hello Blair’s thesis statement on life. I also love the sound of it as a Blair kind of energy

1. “Being Good Isn’t Good Enough,” Barbra Streisand. Like, uh… hello Blair’s thesis statement on life. I also love the sound of it as a Blair kind of energy

2. “Everybody Wants To Rule The World,” Tears For Fears. Turn your back on Mother Nature/Everybody wants to rule the world

3. “homecoming queen?” Kelsea Balllerini. Well, Blair was prom queen, but close enough. Does it get hard/To have to play the part?/Nobody's feeling sorry for ya

4. “Headlock,” Imogen Heap. You say too late to start/Got your heart in a headlock/I don't believe any of it

5. “Running Up That Hill (Deal With God),” Kate Bush. As Blair like. Literally does

6. “I’m Not Calling You A Liar,” Florence + The Machine. I'm not calling you a ghost/Just stop haunting me/And I love you so much/I'm going to let you kill me

7. “Paper Bag,” Fiona Apple. I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy/Whose reality I knew, was a-hopeless to be had

8. “Money Changes Everything,” Cyndi Lauper. I mean, it’s Cyndi Lauper. Who else goes on a Blair playlist? But also I was thinking a lot of that cynical classism that dogs her mindset, especially after the last couple songs

9. “Dolls Parts,” Hole. I want to be the girl with the most cake

10. “Brand New City,” Mitski. I think my life is losing momentum/I think my ways are wearing me down/But if I gave up on being pretty, I wouldn't know how to be alive

11. “I’m Not an Angel,” Halestorm. Who else could love what I’ve become etc etc. Can't help myself/From hurting you/And it's hurting me

12. “When You Break,” Bear’s Den. You keep begging for forgiveness/But you don't think you've done wrong

13. “You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid,” The Offspring.

14. “Hollywood,” Jukebox the Ghost. I love the play between Blair as the singer, and Blair as the audience, in listening to this. Like, You want Hollywood/And this is real life in both that cynical, manipulative self and that hopeless romantic who literally envisions life in film self

15. “The Heroine,” Unwoman. I asked just one thing of you, to be here/Did I not let it slip that I was sincere?/That was my best poker face, trying not to care/I watch and I wait while you never appear

16. “Envy Green,” The Arcadian Wild.

17. “Cop Car,” Mitski. You know, I don’t actually listen to Mitski but making these has almost gotten my autocorrect to accept her name? I get mean when I'm nervous like a bad dog

18. “Oh No!” MARINA. I always feel like I’m the worst/So I act like I’m the best

19. “The Walk,” Imogen Heap. No, it's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all/I don't want to feel like this, so that makes it all your fault

20. “Losing My Mind,” Montaigne. It's over, I'm fine (I'm fine)/I'm fine/I'm fine/I'm fine/Then I start crying

21. “Winter Bird,” AURORA. I’ve talked a little in a few of these notes about Blair and her dream sequences, and this song isn’t… quite as directly evocative of their content as some of the others, but I liked it in that way

22. “GIRL,” Maren Morris. If vanity's my vitamin, well, I don't feel the difference/I don't like myself right now, gotta find a way out

23. “Bad Man’s World,” Jenny Lewis. It's a bad man's world/I'm a bad, bad girl

24. “Heartbreak Hotel,” Whitney Houston, Faith Evans, Kelly Price. Since you're not around for me/To tell you, baby, face to face/I'm writing you this letter/And this is what I have to say/All I really wanted was some of your time

25. “Everybody Loves You,” The Chicks. mrs-nate-humphrey called this post-series Blair vibes and like. Yeah

26. “I Will Survive,” Gloria Gaynor. I should have changed that stupid lock/I should have made you leave your key/If I'd have known for just one second you'd be back to bother me

27. “Yesterday,” Tammy Wynette. We needed a non-chuck sad romance song. Also, Blair’s drunk karaoke song is Tammy Wynette! (But it’s “Stand By Your Man,” which I find depressing both in and out of context)

28. “Everytime,” Britney Spears. Every time I try to fly, I fall

29. “King,” Lauren Aquilina. There's so much more/You can reclaim your crown/You're in control

30. “Final Girl,” CHVRCHES. In the final cut (In the final cut)/In the final scene (In the final scene)/There's a final girl (There's a final girl)/Does she look like me? (Does she look like me?)

[eatsyourainbow]

FILMS LIST

Series 13 Reasons Why American Horror Story Breaking Bad Mr. Robot Pride and Prejudice Spotless

…………………………………………………………………………….

# (500) Days of Summer (2009) 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) 1001 Grams (2014) 13 Going on 30 (2004) 17 Again (2009) 17 filles (2011) 3 Hearts (2014) 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (2007) 45 Years (2015) 5 Centimeters Per Second (2007) 50/50 (2011) 6 Years (2015)

…………………………………………………………………………….

A A Brief History of Time (1991) A Brilliant Young Mind (2014) A Cinderella Story (2004) A Lot Like Love (2005) A Man Called Ove (2015) A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence (2014) A Single Man (2009) A Summer Violence (2014) A Walk to Remember (2002) About a Boy (2002) About Time (2013) Across the Universe (2007) Addams Family Values (1993) Adult World (2013) All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) Almost Famous (2000) Almost Friends (2016) Amélie (2001) American History X (1998) American Psycho (2000) And They Lived Happily Ever After (2004) Anna Karenina (2012) Annie Hall (1977) Anomalisa (2015) Another Earth (2011) Armageddon (1998) Atonement (2007) Away from Her (2006) Away We Go (2009)

B Bachelorette (2012) Bad Teacher (2011) Barney’s Version (2010) Beastly (2011) Becoming Jane (2007) Before Midnight (2013) Before Sunrise (1995) Before Sunset (2004) Before We Go (2014) Begin Again (2013) Beginners (2010) Being Flynn (2012) Ben X (2007) Big Fish (2003) Blue Valentine (2010) Boyhood (2014) Breathe In (2013) Breathless (1960) Brick (2005) Bright Star (2009) Brokeback Mountain (2005) Bruce Almighty (2003)

C Calvary (2014) Candy (2006) Can’t Hardly Wait (1998) Carrie Pilby (2016) Cashback (2006) Catch Me If You Can (2002) Celeste & Jesse Forever (2012) Cemetery Junction (2010) Chungking Express (1994) Citizenfour (2014) City of Angels (1998) Closer (2004) Cloud Atlas (2012) Clueless (1995) Columbus (2017) Comet (2014) Confessions (2010) Cries & Whispers (1972) Cruel Intentions (1999) Crush (2013)

D Damsels in Distress (2011) Daydream Nation (2010) Death at a Funeral (2007) Dead Poets Society (1989) Dear John (2010) Dedication (2007) Definitely, Maybe (2008) Despicable Me (2010) Detachment (2011) Disconnect (2012) Don’t Laugh at My Romance (2007) Donnie Darko (2001) Dope (2015)

E Easy A (2010) Edward Scissorhands (1990) Elizabethtown (2005) Empire Records (1995) Enchanted (2007) Enough Said (2013) Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (2011) Ever After: A Cinderella Story (1998) Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

F Failure to Launch (2006) Fallen Angels (1995) Fanny and Alexander (1982) Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) Fight Club (1999) Fish Tank (2009) Flipped (2010) Forrest Gump (1994) Frances Ha (2012) Frank (2014)

G Garden State (2004) Gemma Bovery (2014) Ghosts of Girlfriends Past (2009) Ghost World (2001) Gifted (2017) Girl, Interrupted (1999) Good Bye Lenin! (2003) Good Will Hunting (1997) Grave of the Fireflies (1988) Great Expectations (2011)

H Happythankyoumoreplease (2010) Harry Potter (2001-2011) He’s Just Not That Into You (2009) Heavenly Creatures (1994) Her (2013) Hick (2011) Home Alone (1990) How Do You Know (2010) How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

I I’m Not There. (2007) I Am Sam (2001) Ida (2013) I Killed My Mother (2009) I Love You Phillip Morris (2009) I Origins (2014) If I Stay (2014) If Only (2004) In Your Eyes (2014) Into the Wild (2007) I Smile Back (2015) It’s Kind of a Funny Story (2010)

J Jane Eyre (1996) Jane Eyre (2011) Jeff, Who Lives at Home (2011) Jerry Maguire (1996) Juno (2007) Jurassic Park (1993) Just Like Heaven (2005)

K Keeping the Faith (2000) Keith (2008) Kill Your Darlings (2013)

L L’Enfer (1994) La belle personne (2008) Laggies (2014) Last Night (2010) Laurence Anyways (2012) Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004) Léon: The Professional (1994) Les Misérables (1998) Less Than Zero (1987) Letters to Juliet (2010) Liberal Arts (2012) Life Happens (2011) Like Crazy (2011) Lincoln (2012) Little Birds (2011) Little Forest: Summer/Autumn (2014) Little Miss Sunshine (2006) Liv & Ingmar (2012) LOL (2012) Lola Versus (2012) Lost in Translation (2003) Louder Than Bombs (2015) Love & Other Drugs (2010) Love Actually (2003) Love and Death (1975) Love and Other Disasters (2006) Love Me If You Dare (2003) Love Story (1970) Lovers of the Arctic Circle (1998) Lucy (2014) Lymelife (2008)

M Maggie’s Plan (2015) Manchester by the Sea (2016) Map of the Sounds of Tokyo (2009) Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011) Mary Is Happy, Mary Is Happy (2013) Matilda (1996) Mauvais sang (1986) Me and Earl and the Dying Girl (2015) Mean Girls (2004) Medianeras (2011) Memento (2000) Monsieur Lazhar (2011) Moonrise Kingdom (2012) Mozart and the Whale (2005) Mr. Nobody (2009) My Blueberry Nights (2007) My Girl (1991) My Life Without Me (2003) My Neighbor Totoro (1988) My Own Private Idaho (1991) My Rainy Days (2009) My So Has Got Depression (2011)

N Napoleon Dynamite (2004) Never Been Kissed (1999) Never Let Me Go (2010) Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist (2008) Night on Earth (1991) No Strings Attached (2011) Nobody Walks (2012) Northanger Abbey (2007) Norwegian Wood (2010) Now Is Good (2012)

O On the Beach at Night Alone (2017) Once (2006) Only Yesterday (1991) Orlando (1992) Oslo, 31. august (2011) Our Little Sister (2015)

P Palo Alto (2013) Parasyte: Part 1 (2014) Parasyte: Part 2 (2015) Paris, je t’aime (2006) Paris, Texas (1984) Pay It Forward (2000) Penelope (2006) People Like Us (2012) Persona (1966) Petal Dance (2013) Philomena (2013) Prayers for Bobby (2009) Pretty in Pink (1986) Pride & Prejudice (2005) Pulp Fiction (1994)

R Raise Your Voice (2004) Rashomon (1950) Reality Bites (1994) Requiem for a Dream (2000) Respire (2014) Revolutionary Road (2008) Rocket Science (2007) Ruby Sparks (2012) Running with Scissors (2006) Rushmore (1998)

S Safe Haven (2013) Say Anything… (1989) Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (2012) Sexual Chronicles of a French Family (2012) Side Effects (2013) Silver Linings Playbook (2012) Simple Simon (2010) Sixteen Candles (1984) Shakespeare in Love (1998) She’s the Man (2006) Short Term 12 (2013) Sleepwalk with Me (2012) Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) Sound of My Voice (2011) Speak (2004) Spirited Away (2001) Spotlight (2015) St. Elmo’s Fire (1985) Still Walking (2008) Stranger Than Fiction (2006) Struck by Lightning (2012) Stuck in Love (2012) Submarine (2010) Sunshine Cleaning (2008) Sweeney Todd (2007) Sweet Little Lies (2010)

T Tag (2015) Take This Waltz (2011) Taxi Driver (1976) Terms of Endearment (1983) That Thing You Do! (1996) The Art of Getting By (2011) The Black Balloon (2008) The Bling Ring (2013) The Blue Room (2014) The Book Thief (2013) The Breakfast Club (1985) The Choice (2016) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007) The Double (2013) The Double Life of Veronique (1991) The Dreamers (2003) The Edukators (2004) The End of the Tour (2015) The Face of Another (1966) The Falling (2014) The Fault in Our Stars (2014) The Garden of Words (2013) The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (2006) The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) The Great Gatsby (1974) The High Cost of Living (2010) The Host (2013) The Intervention (2016) The Jacket (2005) The Jane Austen Book Club (2007) The Kid with a Bike (2011) The Kids Are All Right (2010) The Kings of Summer (2013) The Last Kiss (2006) The Last Song (2010) The Little Mermaid (1989) The Little Prince (2015) The Lobster (2015) The Long Excuse (2016) The Lorax (2012) The Lovely Bones (2009) The Lucky One (2012) The Notebook (2004) The Odd Life of Timothy Green (2012) The One I Love (2014) The Other Woman (2009) The Painted Veil (2006) The Parent Trap (1998) The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012) The Piano Teacher (2001) The Place Promised in Our Early Days (2004) The Pursuit of Happyness (2006) The Ramen Girl (2008) The Reader (2008) The Remains of the Day (1993) The Road Within (2014) The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) The Science of Sleep (2006) The Secret Life of Words (2005) The Seventh Seal (1957) The Simpsons Movie (2007) The Sixth Sense (1999) The Shawshank Redemption (1994) The Solitude of Prime Numbers (2010) The Spectacular Now (2013) The Squid and the Whale (2005) The Theory of Everything (2014) The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009) The Tracey Fragments (2007) The Tree of Life (2011) The Truth About Emanuel (2013) The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988) The Virgin Suicides (1999) The Visitor (2007) The Vow (2012) The Way He Looks (2014) The White Ribbon (2009) The Wizard of Oz (1939) The Young Victoria (2009) This Is 40 (2012) This Is England (2006) Three Colors: White (1994) Through a Glass Darkly (1961) Thumbsucker (2005) Tideland (2005) Tiny Furniture (2010) To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) To the Wonder (2012) To Write Love on Her Arms (2012) Toni Erdmann (2016) Trainspotting (1996) Tuck Everlasting (2002) Two Days, One Night (2014) Two Night Stand (2014)

U Unexpected (2015) Uptown Girls (2003)

V Very Good Girls (2013)

W Waiting for Forever (2010) Weekend (2011) Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995) Welcome to the Rileys (2010) What If (2013) What to Expect When You’re Expecting (2012) White Bird in a Blizzard (2014) White Oleander (2002) Why Stop Now? (2012) Wild (2014) Wild Child (2008) Wings of Desire (1987) Wish I Was Here (2014) Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988) Wristcutters: A Love Story (2006)

Y You’ve Got Mail (1998) Young Adult (2011) Yourself and Yours (2016) Youth in Revolt (2009)

[adultswim2021]

Space Ghost Week

Space Ghost Coast to Coast #61: “Cahill” | August 28, 1998 | S05E04

Thank god for my Space Ghost Coast to Coast Volume 4 DVD. I bought you for a song back in 2007, and you’re not just a potential source for 200 dollars on eBay for me. You are also slightly more convenient to throw on than torrenting the episode and putting it on my Plex server is. 

Yet another episode with a “Waiting” title card and a cold open in the commissary. Shaking my damn-ass head. I really dislike this cold open. Space Ghost utters the line “Storm’s a ‘comin’” which is a perfectly fine way to set up this episode where a storm does indeed a come. But the rest of it is wacky non-sequiturs, like Moltar talking about eating Jello, and a cut away from the theme song to Space Ghost saying “I got a monkey”. Honestly, “I got a monkey” is a strong contender for least-favorite moment in the entire series. It’s especially childish and grating to me.

Speaking of writing, this one has three writers credited: Mike Lazzo, Ben Karlin (who wrote a small handful of previous episodes), and Brian Posehn from Mr. Show. I misremembered this being solely credited to Posehn. Brian is a lovely guy, so I’m glad that we can all pretend he didn’t write the stuff I didn’t like.

I do like this episode, I promise, but it’s far from a favorite. It’s a fairly normal episode, except there’s a running joke that Space Ghost is extremely afraid of lightning while an intimidating and gloomy storm breaks out. That whole element makes the episode a nice mood piece, and adds legitimate production value and humor to the show. It’s one of those things that makes Space Ghost be Space Ghost.

Space Ghost attempts to interview absolute legend Garret Morris, who is fucking hilarious in this. He might be the only original SNL cast member that got funnier with age. Dying of drugs, dying of cancer, sexually assaulting a young woman on a movie set while ironically observing Covid-19 protocols, selling vodka in a glass skull, screaming at Dan Harmon via voicemail, primarily doing voice work, and Kate & Allie are all funny in their own ways, I suppose. But Morris is one charming mother fucker and he out-charms all those bozos. Even George Coe. Even Don Novello!

Meanwhile, Moltar has meteorologist NOT AL ROKER, I’M NOT RACIST AND KNEW RIGHT AWAY THAT IT WASN’T HIM, I mean, Mark McEwen in his control room. Space Ghost is too scared of the lightening and forgets about him, basically, but Moltar has a great time with him. They have an awkward chemistry. Moltar seems like he has a bit of a man-crush on him. It’s cute stuff. Sample dialogue: 

Moltar: I would never blame you. Mark McEwen (doing an Elvis impression): Thank you very much big guy. Moltar: I’m totally serious. (awkward silence)

Speaking of Moltar being cute: there is a line in this where Moltar is reading meteorology jargon from a book and sorta fumbling over the words “Microinductor dyloptiloid” it and then sardonically adds “not a word I use everyday”. I’m genuinely not sure if that’s a written joke or if they are honoring their tradition of including improv and outtakes as if it’s written dialogue. In a script it would stick out, but it does feel like one of those moments even if it’s not. Another moment, where Space Ghost says “Is there anything more funny than somebody just drastically white trying to speak colloquial hood?” also feels blurry to me. It seems like some stock thing George Lowe would say as an actual conversation starter that was captured while he was going off-book.

One of the lesser episodes of the season, but goddamn there’s some good stuff in it.

MAIL BAG

hey kimosabe. the lewis lectures still rock my world. Any chance of bringing those dogs out of the kennel now that lazzo is gone?

Um... (theatrically) don’t look at me!

from prince-moth-mothy-moth-moth:

just found out about your page as i'm rewatching sgc2c, literally in the middle of season 5 right now, ha! looking forward to seeing your thoughts on Cahill, feels like one they had a lot of fun making

Garret Morris’ interview must’ve been so great to conduct. They must’ve been aware that they were capturing lightning that day. I hope my relatively lukewarm review didn’t disappoint too bad.

also from: prince-moth-mothy-moth-moth 

also im guessing you'll probably cover Dinner With Steven at the end of the 98 episodes?

Wasn’t planning on that in particular! Seemed like a thing to watch in preperation for covering “Snatch” next season. But I might change my mind. Generally I don’t sweat covering the Space Ghost ephemera too much because when I do Space Ghost Week it’s on an accelerated schedule. But more and more I’ve been thinking how there should be a concentrated effort to preserve all that stuff in some kind of shareable archive. At the very least I should start a spreadsheet.

[fetchmearum420]

1776 out of context:

“SIT DOWN YOU SCURVY DOG OR I’LL KNOCK YOU DOWN!”

“I’ve no stomach for it.”

“well where’d ya go for it man, Jamaica?”

“Good morning all ☺️”

“There must be some mistake I have an Aunt who lives in New Brunswick.”

“You must tell her to keep up the good work.”

“The whoring and the drinking.”

“It’s simple Mr. Chase, increase and multiply.”

“Aye.”

“Sit down Mr. Hopkins you’ve abused the privilege.”

“For once in your life Wilson, take a chance.”

“The sensible third Mr. Rodney!”

“No sir ENG-LISH-MEN!”

“Treason is a charge invented by winners as an excuse for hanging the losers.”

“New York Abstains, courteously.”

“Mr. Morris… WHAT IN HELL GOES ON IN NEW YORK?”

“They speak very fast and very loud.”

“MCNAIR FETCH ME A RUM!”

“Homicide….HOMICIDE, QUIIEETTTT!!!”

“God damn the man…”

“Uh, did you sleep well madam?”

“Oh for heavens sake let me get through it once 😒”

“CAN’T WE COMPROMISE HERE?”

“NO TOO MANY FLIES HERE!”

“Disgusting…”

“Mr. President, Georgia seems to be split right down the middle on this issue, the people are against it and I’m for it.”

“Well it won’t kill ya, you’d think this congress would have its own privy.”

“Some day, you must tell me how you did it.”

“I think he’s asleep.”

“Please Mr. Dickinson must you start banging? How’s a man to sleep?”

“CHRIST IT’S HOT!!! 😩”

“Not ripe?! Hell we’re rotting for one of them.”

“Are you calling me a mad man you, you FRIVVLE!!”

“Look at him Franklin, Virginia’s most famous lover.”

“I am just a simple cobbler from Connecticut.”

“FORRWWWAAARRDDDD OOOONNNNNN!!!”

“I have come to the conclusion, that one useless man is called a disgrace. That two are called a law firm, and that three or more become a congress. And by god I have had this Congress. For ten years King George and his parliament have gulled, collied and diddled these colonies with their illegal taxes. Stamp acts, townshead acts, sugar acts, tea acts. And when we dared stand up like men they have stopped our trade, seized our ships, blockaded our ports, burnt our towns and spilt our blood! And still this congress refuses to grant any of my proposals on independence, even so much as the courtesy of open debate. Good god, what in hell are you waiting for?!”

[eliza49-7190]

One line, one fic

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

I was tagged by the wonderful doctorhelena

Here are lines (okay, sometimes more than one) from the middlish of each story.

1.

Mid-week Mornings at the New York Bell Company and Summer Evenings in Manhattan

(An Agent Carter fic)

From chapter 2 of 3:

One or two agents still resented having been knocked out by Peggy’s fists – and the occasional, frisbeed dinner plate – but the prevailing attitude towards her fighting prowess was one of self-deprecating approbation: the humorous refrain, ‘Or we could just send Carter,’ was often heard in the bullpen when an assignment demanded maximum manpower.

2.

A Safe Community for Modern, Female Professionals

(An Agent Carter fic)

From chapter 3 of 5:

Startled, Angie realised that she had read by accident half of the first paragraph, and that this was a private thing of Peggy’s that she had no right to (just like the flunky shouldn’t have been handling Peggy’s pretty, satin nightie).

3.

An Unexpected Detour on the Way to Saving the World

(An Avengers: Endgame|Agent Carter fic)

From chapter 6 of 12:

Steve waited patiently, and Tony took the opportunity to announce his right to the seat next to the driver: as a kid he had always asked to ride up front with Mr Jarvis, and now that he was a fifty-three-year-old, flying superhero with a time machine, no one got to tell him that he was too short and he belonged in the back. (Besides, he wanted to leave the backseat free so that Cap could sit next to Peggy.)

4.

A Somebody I'm Longin' to See

(An Agent Carter fic)

From chapter 3 of 5:

The idea of Angie patronising Eve’s on Greenwich Avenue, and the idea of her ‘liking girls that way,’ revisited Peggy often in the weeks that followed. It felt like a confusing, entangled concept, intriguing and unsettling at the same time.

5.

Answering the Call

(An Avengers: Endgame | Steggy fic)

From chapter 1 of 1:

Whilst in 2023 no one would give a second thought to an unmarried woman having a man to stay with her in her home, he knew that in 1949 this was definitely not the case. He did not want to risk Peggy’s reputation for the sake of his own, selfish comfort.

I’ve run out of finished-and-posted Agent Carter / Captain America fics, so here are two from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. fics (the first of which also draws on CA:TWS)

6.

Secrets Told and Kept

(An Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. | Maria Hill | Philinda fic)

From chapter 2 of 4:

Maria was too reserved, too little accustomed to flirtation, to feel at ease with either flagrant deception or seduction (although Agent Brett Morris did once reassure her, during their mercifully short partnership, that she ‘definitely had the equipment.’) But this type of play-acting was in any case best suited to brief ambushes, what Fury dubbed the ‘Peggy Method,’ of ‘fluttering her eyelashes, then beating people with a chair.’

(So I’m cheating a bit here, because this isn’t quite the middle, but I thought people likely to read this post would appreciate the Peggy Carter reference.)

7.

An Appropriate Reprimand

(An Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. fic)

From chapter 1 of 1:

Skye, a veteran of many childhood misdemeanours and punishments, raised her chin defiantly. Jemma, a veteran of consistent top-of-the-class performance, screwed up her face in terrified anticipation.

Sticking with posted fic rather than wips, here are a couple of little bits from my two completed Jane Austen fics

8.

The Trials and Triumphs of the Unmarried Sister

(A Persuasion | Pride and Prejudice crossover fic)

From chapter 4 of 7:

Miss Bingley was not to be pitied. Georgiana Darcy might be an heiress with thirty thousand pounds, but she was also a mere chit of a girl, who was so artless as to wish for nothing more than the approbation of her older brother, and so simple as to consider herself fortunate to be marrying a clergyman.

9.

Miss Elliott at Home

(A Persuasion ‘missing chapter’ fic)

From chapter 1 of 1:

Here he seemed struck by a sudden thought, and he looked around the room, then lowered his voice. “And bye the bye, Frederick, I think you might consider yourself fortunate in time, that the young lady, whose name I never recall, did choose the other fellow. For we sailors must seek out a wife who will look before leaping, and who is not so flighty that she will regret the life of the sea once the deed is done. And I’m afraid we can have little use for ladies who jump about and break their heads – however pretty their faces may be!”

10.

So number 10 is a total wild card. It’s from the very first fanfic I ever attempted, which I never finished or posted. It literally goes back decades. This is an X-Files fic, effectively a season 8-AU, in which Mulder still gets abducted, but Doggett is in denial about having some kind of psychic abilities: he keeps getting flashes from Mulder’s and Scully’s past/ memeories, which he doesn’t want and can’t control, whilst he’s working with Scully investigating Mulder’s disappearance.

This isn’t even really from the middle, but hey, it’s unfinished, so who’s to say where the middle is? I am including this mostly because I think I’m more likely to get abducted by aliens than ever finish writing this story, so here are several lines of dialogue, which are very unlikely ever to the light of day otherwise!

From Untitled X-Files WIP, consisting of 4, equally unfinished chapters:

“Oh, come on, Mulder: reincarnation, ghosts, walk-ins, vampires, zombies?  You must envisage having a pretty busy schedule in the afterlife.  I don’t know how your soul is going to fit it all in.”

He grinned appreciatively.  “Vampires don’t have souls, Scully.  Don’t you watch Buffy?”

She half-smiled.  He watched her in the dim light of the car.  “You’re not really worried about my immortal soul, are you, Scully?  Because, you know, you’re a Roman Catholic and I’m a half-Jewish atheist with a propensity to embrace a wide variety of Dark-Age superstitions without rationale or consistency.  Somehow, I don’t think we’re going to get to spend eternity together.”

“Why would you say that?” she asked softly.

If you are still here, thanks for reading this post. I had fun putting it together, so thank you for the tag from doctorhelena, whose stories I love. ❤️

(Tagging some people and anyone else who reads and wants to do it!)

[exanimateisacomic]

He jerked up in the bed. his body tingling uncomfortably, like his whole body fell asleep. His mind was hazy, thoughts racing through it

There was something he was suppose to do, glancing over to the bedside table he sees a walk-in-talkie.

Yes, that’s it. He needs to communicate with…someone on the walkie talkie.

He grabs it and clicks the talk button.

“H-hello? Hello?”

He releases it and waits. The radio chirps

“Hey bud, you remembered!” Squeaked a voice. He felt comforted by this voice.

He clicked the button to speak “y-yeah, I did.”

The voice chirped again “okay, I’m coming up to get you. Do you remember what you’re doing tonight?”

He thought for a second, getting his thoughts in order, and he remembered.

-click- “y-yes sir.”

“Right o. See you soon.” The voice said then the line went dead.

He got up and grabbed a pair of socks and put them on. He looked around for his shoes and found them near the door. It was a worn pair of slip on canvas shoes next to a pair of dress shoes.

‘Those must be Mr. Morris’’ he thought as he slipped on his shoes. He looked around and found his sweater, a large green cardigan, and he just slipped into it. As he buttoned up, he heard a knock at his door.

“Hey bud, you ready?” The voice said, muffled by the door.

He tapped his finger tips together anxiously as he walked up and opened the door, seeing Luis Lynch standing in the hallway.

“Y-yes sir.” The scared demon said, slouching forward.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

I Never Planned On You Chapter 6: Delanceys- Davey Jacobs x Poppy

Word Count: 1.8k

Most of Manhattan was alive the very next afternoon as word about the newsies strike spread around town. Every newsie was excited to be part of something that could hopefully bring down the price of the papes. Well, except one of them.

It took all Poppy had not to wince or cry as she made her way up to the Jacobs residence. While on her way out of Jacobi’s she’d been cornered and jumped by Oscar and Morris Delancey, who wished to remind the newsies of who they’re dealing with by starting this strike. It left her with bruises all over her body, a busted lip, a bruised cheek and a black eye along with a cut right under her eye (Morris had been wearing a ring). She knocked on their door and waited patiently for someone- anyone- to answer. It only took a minute before the door opened, revealing Davey. 

“He-“ he stopped and stood there wordlessly for a moment, bringing his hand to his mouth as he looked her over. 

“Poppy- what the hell happened to you?” He asked incredulously, helping her inside with gentle hands. Poppy licked her lips, which had by now become dry, cringing at the metallic taste it left in her mouth, then sighed shakily.

“Oscar and Morris Delancey,” she answered quietly. “They cornered me outside Jacobi’s. They…I can’t go back to the lodging house looking like this, the boys will kill the Delanceys, and I don’t want anyone in jail for murder over me. I’m sorry I just showed up without warning, I just…I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

Davey didn’t answer and instead gently swooped her up after closing the door, carrying her to his room and setting her gently on the bed. He crouched in front of her, holding her chin gently so he could examine her face, his own face absolutely covered in worry. 

“They got you good,” he commented, his voice shaky.

“Really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?” She joked dryly in an attempt to lighten the mood. It went unnoticed as he stood and walked to the bathroom with haste. 

“What were you doing out there all alone?” He scolded from the bathroom as he ran a washcloth under the sink.

“Hey, it’s not like I knew they were out there,” she defended herself. “Besides, everyone had already left. Mr. Jacobi asked for help moving some tables and I’m the only one that volunteered.” The boy huffed in frustration, as a mother might do, but decided not to pry further. He walked over and knelt in front of her, holding her chin in one hand and the rag in another. He wasted no time in pressing the rag to her wounds, starting with her lip. His eyes focused on his work. Poppy flinched back with a quiet hiss as a first response, clenching her eyes shut in pain.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. His grip tightened slightly on her chin to keep her from moving as he dabbed the rag over the dried blood, trying to keep a serious attitude about him as he concentrated.

“You’re lucky they didn’t hurt you worse,” he muttered as he began to focus on the cut across her cheek. “Are you hurting anywhere else?” The girl shook her head. 

“Just some bruises here and there,” she responded quietly. Davey hummed in response as he finished cleaning her up. He stood, tossing the bloody washcloth onto his nightstand.

“Well, I’m going to go grab some ice. You can change into some of my clothes from that drawer if you’d like.” The girl nodded and stood with a small, awkward yet grateful look.

“Thanks Davey, and I’m sorry again.” Davey paused, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.  

“You don’t have any reason to be sorry- I’m sorry. I was being worried and not checking in with you,” he cupped her face with a surprisingly gentle touch. “How are you feeling?”

“Not good if I’m being honest,” she admitted with a weak laugh. “My side and head both hurt.” 

“Get dressed and lay down, I’ll bring you ice and some water. Is there anything else I can do for you?” He asked softly. Poppy shook her head and smiled softly. 

“You’ve done more than enough, thank you,” she says, leaning into the hands that were cupping her face for a moment before pulling away to find herself some clothes. Davey pulled away and made his way to the kitchen. In the time he was gone the girl managed to find some clothes and change, folding her old clothes as best as she could before laying on his bed with a sigh. He walked back in with an ice pack moments later and smiled softly at the sight of her in his clothes. Upon noticing his smile the girl couldn’t help but smile shyly in response then scooted over a bit so he could sit  beside her, which he did.

“This will sting at first, but I promise it feels better after a while,” he warned her as he held up the ice pack. Poppy nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“Okay.” After getting the okay Davey brought the ice pack up to her cheek, gently pressing it to the bruise and cut. The girl hissed in pain, gripping her shirt so she didn’t move her head away like she’d done last time as her eyes clenched shut again. Davey’s brows knit together in worry and he gently took her hand in his free one. She gripped it lightly, starting to relax with his touch, and calmed down after getting used to the cold. A small, reassuring smile settled onto his lips as he brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of it. 

“It’s okay,” he muttered against her skin. The girl blushed deeply and smiled softly at him (well, as much as she could with an ice pack on her face). 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she mumbles, squeezing his hand gently.

“You’re welcome,” he responded. “I would hate for you to get an infection or hurt yourself further trying to get home.” Poppy nodded, then laughed.

“I probably would be passed out in an alley if I hadn’t thought to come here,” she commented. Rather than answer at first Davey scooted a little closer and lifted the ice pack to check over her wounds before he placed it back over the bruise. Something about the intimacy of helping her had made his heart throb for her. He gazed into her eyes with a soft and inviting smile.

“I’m glad you chose me to take care of you,” he said quietly. Poppy stared into his eyes with a certain fondness, one that made her heart flutter in her chest similar to the butterflies that flapped around in her stomach, slowly lifting her hand to cup his cheek gently, as if she’d hurt him if she pressed against him any more. 

“I am too,” she whispered. Davey set his hand over the one that she had pressed to his face, letting their fingers lace together, which earned a coy smile from her. She brought their hands down so she could press a kiss to the back of his like he’d done earlier, as she thought about how his simple gesture was making her feel all sorts of things. A smile settled onto the boy’s face, and he began leaning closer to her. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, almost not realizing that he had said it. He used his free hand to interlace his fingers into her hair as he awaited her answer with eager eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered, relieved that he’d been the one to ask, and that she wasn’t misreading the situation. 

Davey leaned in, almost like she was magnetic to him and kissed her gently. His eyes fell closed as he ran his hand through her fiery hair. With his other hand he pulled her close to his chest by the small of her back. He had never experienced this feeling, he had cared about people, sure, but something about this felt so pure to him, so effortless. 

You know how people say they feel a spark when they kiss someone? Well it was nothing compared to what Poppy felt the moment Davey’s lips touched hers. She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself even closer to him (if it were even possible) as her eyes fell closed. 

He let his hands run up her sides gently and he gripped onto her shirt as they embraced. He wondered if he was dreaming, even just the day before he had been unsure of her, but now he was sure. He was sure he wanted to have adventures with her, to hold her hand, to make her breakfast in bed, he wanted to hear the different types of laughs that she had, he wanted to be the best man he could be for her. Poppy smiled into the kiss and moved one hand to cup his cheek while the other played with the hair at the nape of his neck. The feelings she had for Davey were so new to her. She’d never felt this way before, but she knew she would do anything to make him the happiest that he could be.

Eventually Davey pulled back for a moment, breathing heavily. A bright smile graced his face, his warm eyes looking her over. He wanted to hold her forever. His face conveyed a fondness as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Wow,” was all he could say. Poppy giggled quietly, staring into his eyes with a sense of adoration for the boy in front of her. 

“Yeah, wow,” she whispered back, a comically wide smile on her face. The boy blushed, looking aside with an embarrassed smile. 

“You make my heart pound. I’ve never felt that way before,” he admitted in a whisper, tucking some stray hair behind her ear.

“I know the feeling,” she said softly, grinning at his coyness. “You’re a really special guy, Dave. One in a million.” Davey couldn’t help but smile at her words and, rather than reply, which he lacked the words to do so, he began to press kisses all over her lips and face. The girl giggled and cupped his face, attempting to get a few kisses in between his, before he ultimately pulled back again with a smile. 

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked. “After that? Definitely,” she joked, earning a quiet laugh from Davey.

“Good, I���m glad. God you scared me, I almost had a heart attack when I opened the door and saw you like that,” he admitted softly. 

“I’m sorry,” she responded, giggling afterwards because that had to be the sixth time she’d apologized at this point. “I didn’t mean to scare ya.” 

“Don’t be sorry, but don’t go walking out by yourself anymore, it isn’t safe,” he urged, shaking his head. 

“I promise,” she nodded with a small smile up at him. And Davey believed her. He trusted her, just like she’d trusted him to take care of her. That was more than enough for him.

[publicdomainbooks]

II.

In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the breakfast table he laughed at his fears.  There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.

"I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs. White.  "The idea of our listening to such nonsense!  How could wishes be granted in these days?  And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?"

"Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert.

"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said his father, "that you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence."

"Well, don't break into the money before I come back," said Herbert as he rose from the table.  "I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you."

His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense of her husband's credulity.  All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the door at the postman's knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought a tailor's bill.

"Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he comes home," she said, as they sat at dinner.

"I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; "but for all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I'll swear to."

"You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly.

"I say it did," replied the other.  "There was no thought about it; I had just—- What's the matter?"

His wife made no reply.  She was watching the mysterious movements of a man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter.  In mental connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of glossy newness.  Three times he paused at the gate, and then walked on again.  The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.

She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room.  He gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden.  She then waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he was at first strangely silent.

"I—was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of cotton from his trousers.  "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.'"

The old lady started.  "Is anything the matter?"  she asked, breathlessly.  "Has anything happened to Herbert?  What is it?  What is it?"

Her husband interposed.  "There, there, mother," he said, hastily.  "Sit down, and don't jump to conclusions.  You've not brought bad news, I'm sure, sir;" and he eyed the other wistfully.

"I'm sorry—" began the visitor.

"Is he hurt?"  demanded the mother, wildly.

The visitor bowed in assent.  "Badly hurt," he said, quietly, "but he is not in any pain."

"Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands.  "Thank God for that!  Thank—"

She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's averted face.  She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his.  There was a long silence.

"He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor at length in a low voice.

"Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, "yes."

He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife's hand between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old courting-days nearly forty years before.

"He was the only one left to us," he said, turning gently to the visitor. "It is hard."

The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window.  "The firm wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss," he said, without looking round.  "I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and merely obeying orders."

There was no reply; the old woman's face was white, her eyes staring, and her breath inaudible; on the husband's face was a look such as his friend the sergeant might have carried into his first action.

"I was to say that 'Maw and Meggins' disclaim all responsibility," continued the other.  "They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son's services, they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation."

Mr. White dropped his wife's hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of horror at his visitor.  His dry lips shaped the words, "How much?"

"Two hundred pounds," was the answer.

Unconscious of his wife's shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor.

[televinita]

Library Triage

26 items out and more on deck soon; time to take stock encore.

Items Ready to Return: 5

Books, Keeping Until I Finish Goodreads Reviews: : 3

Books, Read But Want To Keep At Hand For Shippy Content: 2

Nonfiction Books To Browse Through: 4

1. Cabin Tripping: Where to Go to Get Away From It All: talk about gorgeous photographs and vacation daydreams...

2. The Nesting Place: It Doesn't Have to Be Perfect to Be Beautiful by Myquillyn Smith: one day (hopefully before it’s weeded) I will read this in its entirety, but it’s probably not happening this time. nevertheless -- I’ve loved this one since I saw it for the author’s mention that despite wanting roots in a house to call home, she moved 13 times in 13 years as an adult, and so had to learn to decorate and appreciate what she had instead of waiting for someday. As someone who’s also looking at long-term renting in an uninspiring space, this is so helpful.

3. Small Space Style by Whitney Leigh Morris: speaking of apartment life...will probably send this back soon, but ahhh, it’s just so pretty and full of both gorgeous color photos and cool illustrations, and every suggestion is numbered, so it’s really fun.

4. Where’s My Stuff?: The Ultimate Teen Organizing Guide: this won’t take long, but it’s back-to-school time and that usually still inspires me to spend a few days fantasizing about being a grade 6-12 student again where organizing my bedroom and schoolwork are my most/only pressing household concerns. I saw this at the library and was like, bingo, sorry to actual young adults but I clearly need this more than you right now. It’s so glossy and colorful!

DVDs, Watched But Want To Share With Parents Before I Return Them: 2 [The Lost City, Uncharted]

DVDs, Still To Watch/Currently Watching: 4

1. Jurassic Park III: I was holding it so I could finish watching all the bonus features (there are so! many!), but then I decided I actually wanna watch the whole movie again before I give it back. I’ve concluded that I do like it more than movie 2, actually, just because even though T. Rex > Spinosaurus, the other dinosaur scares are better and also, Alan Grant > Ian Malcolm.

2. The Mustang: I’ve wanted to see this since it came out, about an inmate involved in a mustang-training program at the prison (similar programs exist in real life and I think they’re amazing; everybody wins). I’m only still waiting because husband (Mr. I-can-commit-to-3-hours-of-TV or movie watching per week at most) said, “Oh, that looks good!” and since I’m always looking for stuff we can watch together, given our wildly divergent tastes...

3. The Mummy (2017): another I’ve wanted to see since it came out, despite being universally panned for reasons I don’t recall and look forward to deciding for myself. This is exactly the style of movie I’m in the mood for right now and frankly, nothing can be worse than The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor.

4. Blood & Treasure, season 1: the beloved has been in my hands for a month while I skip merrily through my favorite scenes/deleted scenes and/or rewatch entire episodes, and it is not LEAVING my hands until it is forcibly ripped away from me under threat of paying for it (and honestly, paying for a lost item might be cheaper than buying a 2ndhand one at this point, yeesh)

Currently Reading: 4

1. The Map That Leads to You - Joseph Monninger: I got about 60 pages in and I’m really enjoying it so far, even though despite taking place in summer, it really feels like a fall read (I think it’s the cozy sweater the guy on the front is wearing). It’s essentially Gayle Forman’s Just One Day with characters 5 years older, but slightly more literary, and somehow more appealing to me as well. I want a few days to think about what I’ve read so far before I continue.

2. Rural Voices: a collection of 15 short stories from various authors celebrating small town/rural life, emphasizing the diversity of demographics and experiences residing there, literally conceived as a clapback to the anti-rural “look at those uneducated right-wingers” sentiment that sprang up after the 2016 election. I’m on the 5th one at the moment, absolutely loving the setting, and pleasantly surprised by how much the diversity is working for me. Reading this one slowly on purpose to savor it.

3. Funny Farm: My Unexpected Life With 600 Rescue Animals: a memoir that is fascinating and full of sweet animals, but also full of SO MUCH GUTWRENCHING SAD re: her background and growing up with an animal-loving mother doing her best to keep her kids safe from their abusive, kinda sociopathic, not-above-resorting-to-murdering-their-pets father whose wealth and career success prevent her from getting more than shared custody. It’s short enough that it should only take a couple hours, but I keep having to take breaks for days on end to cope.

4. We Are Okay - Nina LaCour: this is not the right time of year AT ALL for this sad story of grief-processing over winter break, but then it was just there at the library waiting to be checked out, and then it was just there being all small and easily finishable, so I went outside for 90 minutes and got halfway through. Pausing now because like all her work, it is full of beautiful writing and imagery and concepts I like to take my time thinking about.

Note: aaaand forgot to suspend my request, so I gotta finish or temporarily drop the above in the next week to prioritize Listen To Me by Tess Gerritsen, which still has a request list 3 deep for every copy and which my mom also wants to read but keeps forgetting to request, so I need to make sure she reads it within the checkout time frame too. Otherwise I’m looking at another 2 month wait.

EDIT, literally 2 days after posting this: finished #4 AND Gerritsen

Books Still To Read: 3

5. This Is Our Story - Ashley Elston: IDK, I’m just kinda in a mood to read a teen thriller about 4 friends covering up the (accidental?) death of a 5th while hunting, circling the wagons to make it harder for them to be charged. Looks a lil’ like Good Girl’s Guide To Murder meets S.T.A.G.S.

6. Meet the Sky - McCall Hoyle: random library checkout, two teens stranded on an island off the coast of Virginia during a hurricane. Girl has horses/is planning to be a vet and it looks like there might be a wild Chincoteague pony trapped with or near them at some point, plus it’s short enough/I’ve spoiled enough to be able to hold my nose through the “stuck with a boy who ~broke her heart~ years ago” aspect.

7. A School for Unusual Girls - Kathleen Baldwin: Random pull from the library shelf, albeit back at the end of July, so obviously there has been a LOT jumping in front of it. Although I am v. resistant to historical fiction (even knowing that I tend to enjoy the ones I pick!), let alone vaguely alt!history, the cover was just so pretty and the first few pages had me captivated, but captivated in a way I recognized immediately I’d want to save for cold weather. Don’t love that it’s part of a quartet, so I'm just telling myself it’s standalone to avoid feeling overwhelmed by page count.

At this point I’ve had it so long I may not get to it, but I never say never. I eventually got through everything in the last library triage post!