#Agatha continues to be a dork

[rita-repulsa-ke]

rain check

More Agatha/Rio content, kissing, a discussion of sex. Features my ongoing headcanon that Agatha has violent commitment-phobia and also speaks incredibly anachronistically for whatever time period this is supposed to be in. Something about witches and time, one imagines.

Agatha walked into their shared room at a crummy country inn to find Rio sprawled on the bed, absently spinning her knife. She looked up when she saw Agatha, watched her as she moved around the room, finally said, “Ags.”

“Hmm?” Agatha, who had been sorting any number of vials out of her bag, asked, with a glance at her lover.

“Read my mind.”

Agatha pursed her lips, sauntered over to clamber on the bed, straddling Rio without making contact. She lowered her head until her hair brushed the other woman’s cheeks, then screwed up her face and pretended to concentrate, both of them aware she couldn’t actually touch Rio’s thoughts. She hmmed to herself, shifted her weight to one elbow, toyed with the top button of Rio’s shirt. “You’re thinking you want me to kiss you very slowly and sweetly, and cuddle you while I undress you, take my time holding you, before I—“

Rio’s hand locked tight around her wrist. “Yes. Do that.”

Agatha burst into delighted, obnoxious laughter as she tumbled off, sprawling next to Rio. “I am so good at that!” she said. “Got you going, huh?”

Rio drew in a breath so deep it stirred the air in distant countries, then scrambled atop her lover, tapping her cheek with her knife. “We could do it my way.”

Rio’s way was forceful, rough, demanding, take or be taken, much more to Agatha’s taste except she really preferred to be in control and that was one of the few battles she’d never successfully won. Also, once Rio really got going, she often didn’t stop until Agatha was worn to the bone and had to turn to magic to satisfy her.

Though that was hardly a bad thing.

“Neither,” Agatha said, looking up at Rio, preening her hair in a way she knew the other woman liked. “Sorry, babycakes, rain check? I want to perform a waning moon ritual and this is my last day for it.”

Rio made a low, predatory growl that would have sent sensible people fleeing. It only made Agatha laugh and tug her down to kiss her, an unhurried working, the transmutation of gentle pressure into the feeling of being adored, protected, cared for.

“Liar,” Rio said when she pulled away and Agatha laughed, kissed the tip of her nose.

“Come along and help me, and afterwards, I promise we will go to bed and make the kind of love they write sagas about.”

Rio blinked, then burst into shrill, seemingly unwarranted laughter. By this point, Agatha was used to it, only sighed and petted her until suddenly Rio’s lips were on hers, kissing her like an invasion, her tongue inside Agatha before the other woman even realized her defenses had been breached. She fought back, of course, but she was glad that she couldn’t make sound, because she suspected she would have been making very stupid ones.

When Rio pulled back, leaving her mouth red and bruised, she chased after, aching for more. The other woman rolled off her, came to her feet, then glanced over as Agatha flopped back with a groan. “Change your mind?”

“Nooooo,” Agatha snarled, forcing herself to sitting. “But good effort.”

Rio’s laughter came out in little bursts, like she were expelling something from her body. “I could convince you,” she said between giggles.

Agatha, about to voice a challenge, looked up and met her lover’s eyes, found herself caught by what she saw in them, power and hunger and the potential for an evening spent experiencing any number of little deaths. She pressed her teeth into her lower lip, imagined them as Rio’s teeth—

“How important is this ritual, Ags?” Rio purred, flicking her knife back and forth like a cat flicking its tail prior to pouncing.

“No no no, we are doing this, I am not waiting another cycle,” Agatha said, scrambling out of bed before Rio leapt, knowing that if they made contact again, she was doomed. “Come on, it will only take a few hours. We don’t even have to make it back here, what’s more witchy than being naked in the woods?”

“You complain about the bugs and rocks and sticks—“

Agatha held up a hand to forestall this litany, once Rio started making lists, sometimes she forgot to stop. “I promise I will not complain even if a spider is crawling up my ass. Scout’s honor.”

Rio burst into snorting laughter, but reached out to take Agatha’s hand. “What kind of ritual is it, anyway?”

*****

When they crawled back into the room at pre-dawn hours, caked in guts, even Rio hollow-eyed with exhaustion, Agath stumbled into the bed, and collapsed face-first, too tired to even wash off the remains of that which she’d called up and then had to hastily put down.

A heavy weight crawled onto her back and Rio nuzzled at the back of her neck. “The kind of love they write sagas about,” she murmured.

“You have got to be kidding,” Agatha said. “I’m disgusting, you’re disgusting and I’m not sure I can roll over.” Even speaking felt exhausting.

“You didn’t tell me we were summoning a manticore, Ags.”

“Chimera. It was a chimera.”

Rio shrugged, disinterested.

“I needed a fresh chimera liver. Easiest way is to get it from a fresh chimera.”

“Out of curiosity, what would you have done if I weren’t there?”

“I had things under control,” She ignored the way that made Rio shriek with laughter. “You being there was helpful, though. So thank you.”

“I have a suggestion for thanking me.”

“It’s not happening. I can barely move and I’m too tired to even do the magic thing. I’d lose control and no one wants that, not again.”

Rio lay there for a minute, so long that Agatha started to drift to sleep, when there was a flare of pain along the back of her neck, the sudden heat of her own blood on her skin. She made a mumbled exclamation of surprise and then Rio’s tongue pressed into the wound, dragged along it, lapping up her blood in a way that was—

If the exhaustion had been a little less bone-deep, she might have at least managed to make the kind of love that someone would have written amateur poetry about. But as it was, all she managed was a rumble of intermixed protest and desire.

Rio’s attentions closed the wound she had created and the other woman slowly toppled off her. “Enough for now. When we wake up, though…”

“Yeah, yeah. Baths, then the other thing.”

“Other thing first.”

“Ew. No. The guts don’t do it for me. Wait, they don’t do it for you, right? Please tell me you’re not into that.”

“Night, Agatha.”

“Ugh. I’m dating a freak.”

There was a long beat of silence where they both realized what she’d just said. Agatha began to fake-snore, too loudly, as she felt Rio worm toward her, against her.

“Dating,” the other woman hissed in her ear. “Daaaating.” The giggles were back, interjected between breaths. Fingers tugged at her hair, her clothes, excited, slightly too frantic. Agatha continued to valiantly fake sleep, desperate to avoid having any sort of conversation on this subject. Rio’s tongue licked over her cheek once and then she subsided, giggling to herself, still glued to Agatha’s side.

“Sleep well, love,” Rio said and pretended not to notice the way that made Agatha’s fake snoring stutter for a moment, which was almost kind for her.

Agatha managed the energy to slide a grime-encrusted arm around the other woman and felt something in her chest ease as she sank into true sleep, dreaming pleasant, erotic dreams of Death.

If you enjoyed this, consider reading scars or for something angstier, the present

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 | e.m

ᡣ𐭩 pairings : Eddie Munson x Popular!FEM!reader

ᡣ𐭩 wc : Eddie being a dork and a gentleman, I must warn you that this is going to be so fluffy, no use of y/n, establishing a relationship, sprinkle of angst, Robin is besties with reader, Eddie is pretty much unfazed and oblivious about readers hints to him

ᡣ𐭩 navigation : EDDIE MUNSON | AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE

"So, how do I look?" You twirl around to give a full 360 of your entire ensemble

"Girl, come on, you always looked good" Robin huffs as she stood up at the edge of your bed, muttering words under her breath

"I just needed to make sure" you fixed your blouse once more and pull down your denim skirt

You tweak your makeup and hair one last time until Robin had you scraping off your feet at the mirror by the door of your house as you rolled your eyes as she hands your keys to your house as she goes over to your car

You scoff, "Robs, in a few weeks, it will be the happy heart's day week"

"And so?" she says as she opens the passenger seat

You gasp as you clutch dramatically on your chest, "I needed to get ready as much as possible before the biggest event begins"

Robin chuckled as she shakes her head, "Babe, you always looked perfect even when there's no occasion!"

"Thank you!"

"What?"

"That's what I needed to hear because getting ready is not made for the weak"

You sit with your friends at lunch, Robin is over there with Nancy where you should've been sitting but you got a duty to fill in

Outside of school, that's where who you wanted to be and on the inside you're just pretending and it feels absolutely exhausting and you don't feel like yourself anymore

You do not enjoy it

Sooner or later, you're gonna cut off silently of the "group" that you're hanging out with

You feel how plastic and fake everyone are, the fact that you always have to look good all the time to maintain your fucking what.....social status? your reputation at school? I mean, ever since they made you "popular" (even it's against your will they just pulled you into their world) completely changed everything for you

You gonna have to stay consistent and you have to follow what are the trends are, of course, the popular ones should always be on the track

You even became conscious on the things that you aren't even paying attention that includes your body and face

While you're on the thought of dissecting at how bullshit social class at school, Unbeknownst to you, there's one person in the cafeteria who is clearly admires you

It's expensive and the fact that you always have to invest on every little thing that you and Robin know that you don't even needed it

What's the point of anything?

You don't even like what they're talking about always gossiping about every student in Hawkins, the varsity boys are always been so fucking disgusting at how they kiss and tell, you try to put a facade that you're interested

The only real ones there is Chrissy

Robin keeps an eye out for you, "I just know she's on the edge"

"Who?" Nancy asks as she follows Robin's line of sight as she hums

"Yeah, probably, she has to leave them for own good"

"Wait, nance, look" She points out

Robin and Nancy watches the infamous long haired rockstar passing through slowly at the table that you are sitting

"You should try the facial cream that I am using" Rebecca suggest as she inspects your outfit

He can sense your uncomfort as he continues listening

God, you feel like a fucking animal at a zoo

"S-Sure" you stutter as you forced a small smile

"Rebecca, stop, she looks fine!" Chrissy defends you as she rolls her eyes as she puts on a lipgloss

"Well, she's gonna have to keep up with us if she still wants to be included" she shrugs as if her words don't sting you

"What the hell? Rebecca? she can't even can catch a break-" Chrissy reasons with her but someone else interrupted

He doesn't even mean to pry but can't help but eavesdrop on your ridiculous conversation

"I think you look fantastic"

You, Chrissy, and Rebecca and the rest of the group looked turn their heads as their faces grimaced when their eyes fall into the opponent except you and Chrissy but he didn't care about them

He only looks at you, he didn't even falter, he didn't broke the eye contact when you finally do look at him

The way he saids it, it just felt so genuine, you know deep within your heart, it's bad to have someone such as a man to validate your feelings, no, that's not what you're looking for

What you're looking for is someone who is authentic enough not to see you as a girl who always trying to impress others (you don't even have to if we're being honest) but you want someone to view you as a human being

"Thank you" you say shyly as you flash him a smile

"Anytime" he says with a wink that made your cheeks flushed before he walks away getting back to his table

Chrissy grins beside you as she nudges your shoulder, she giggles as you bite your bottom lip to hide your smile

Rebecca watches the whole exchange as she overheard the boys "as if he could pull her" they snicker, she slowly turns around her head at the metalhead with a stern look on her face as she snaps you out of it

"Hey! don't even think about it"

"Boys like him are dangerous"

Granted, that you don't know him well enough, but he has always been so kind even for just small gestures like that, it is just insane that everybody else assumes that he is unpleasant person, you couldn't even stand it, let alone letting this disrespectful comment slide

Before you could even stop yourself, "Oh really? I am much more scared of the boys that we had in our clique"

The boys are scoffing as you flip them off, you know they can't say anything because they're fucking cowards that's what, they're just beefy with you because hell, you can't let them boys have you, they're so untrustworthy, only wanting you to be bedded and headed out to next victim, it's sickening

you're the only one who can talk to Rebecca like that, the one with the sharp tongue not afraid to fight back

Chrissy almost spat her drink as she puts her cup on the table to compose herself

A couple of collective "oohs" threw in your way making Rebecca abruptly stop retouching her makeup as she puts down her compact mirror to squint her eyes at you

She incredulously laughs as she leans forward closer to you, "Don't come running at me crying getting your heartbroken to some guy with no future"

You glare at her, "No, I won't, you'll see"

Robin is right

You're fucking close to ditch them

Rebecca's words echoed into your brain "It's the policy, wanna stick with us? you're gonna fake it till you make it"

You're so uncomfortable and it's so itchy that it actually makes you wanna scream and tear the clothes to shreds

Who the fuck that you let them rule you?

Being a people pleaser is such a draining and makes your sanity crumble

"Lose the jacket"

Out of your ear ringing rage someone in the back spoke up as you close the door on your locker

As you live and breathe

It's him

You look at him bewildered as he opens his mouth again but closes it as he motions for you to take off your tacky jacket that Rebecca advices you to wear every goddamn Thursday because of the outfit policy for the campus, it's so bullshit

You finally registered what he's trying to tell you as you take it off in a swift move

You decided to wrap it in your waist as you can breath easily and your skin isn't irritated anymore

"What do you think?" You look at your outfit but in his eyes, even though it isn't your style and it's also not exactly your style as well but to him?

It fits you and only you can wear something like that

"Better"

You smile at him as he gives you a tight nod, you taken a notice of his attire, he always dresses up real nice (it's actually what you wanted, the freedom to do what you want)

"Oh, are you auditioning for the talent show?"

His brows shoots up in your imply, "Y-Yeah, I am with the-"

"Corroded Coffin, yeah"

You caught his eyes light up, "Y-You know m-my band?!?"

"Hell, yeah, I do! I like your stuff, it's cool"

He can't believe himself right now, "So, you know my name?"

You laugh at his adorable looking face as he watches you with a dumbfounded expression

You cupped your mouth, "Yes, I do know you, Eddie"

"As the weirdest and the freak, huh?" You noticed his cheeks grew pink, it's so cute that you want pinch it

You click your tongue as you aggressively dismissive your hand at him making him chuckle, "I absolutely do not approve of such statement in my department"

You giggle, "I admire you though for being so selfless, I wish I had that"

Eddie never thought you'd care for a nobody like him, but now, after this interaction he felt like a somebody because someone really sees him

You overheard one of your teachers telling all of the participants to get ready, you looked over his shoulder and saw his bandana hanging from his pants

You had an idea

"Do you mind?" You point at the bandana, Eddie furrows his brows at you as he nods and he removes his bandana from his pants

He gave it to you, Eddie watches you intently as you fold his bandana, he doesn't know what you're doing but he has never been so focused on your looks and he has never seen you this close but damn

He is so entranced by you

The moment you're done with the bandana, you quirk your brow at him for a permission as you raise it aiming at his head and he just shrugs making you chuckle slightly

He feels so hot as he felt your fingertips grazing his scalp and it tingles his heart wickedly

You adjust and secure the knot at the back for good measure and you take a step back to look at your final makeover to him making him so nervous yet again and so bashful under your gaze

You nod in satisfactory for yourself, "So metal"

He beams at you and your compliment as you reached for his hand and you pull him startling for a sec as he immediately intertwined his fingers with you and your heart expands at the touch,

Both of you stopped at the nearest corner of the room that has a mirror on it

"Woah" he moves his head sideways and your grin stays intact as you watch him in the reflection

"See, I told you it will be a nice touch"

"You're far more greater stylist than any of your blood sucking friends"

You stare at him with big wide eyes and he thought he offended you until you bursted out loud cackling as he laughs with you

"Never would've thought that I will be saying this but I fucking agree with you"

He felt how frustrated you are with them, he can tell it by the way you cussed out

"Then why stay?"

Your laughter died down as you smile at him sadly, you sigh, "Well, I'm just like anyone who is new at school trying to be accepted from anyone who has opinions of me and yeah, just your typical social climber, I guess"

He takes your words carefully as he begins to smile, "You don't have to be"

"What?"

"You don't have to do this or that just to fit in, I'd say, let it go and let yourself flow and I think you are already amazing and you don't have to prove anybody else and you let yourself shut off just for other person's sake"

Your mouth open up slightly at his words, you know he is wise but you never thought he had words that are so profoundly true, now, you understand why those kids at school love him

He turns his body to you as he face you completely with a serious look, "Are you happy?"

You frown as you took a deep breath, "N-No, I am not"

"That's your answer"

Your lips curled into a grateful smile, "Thanks, Eddie, you don't know how much your words mean to me, I needed that"

"Don't need to thank me, sweetheart"

Oh, okay, the sweetheart rolls so nicely on his tongue

"I'll get going, see you around, Eddie"

"Sure thing"

Before you leave out at the door, you hurried back as you shout out loud, "And best of luck to your performance! I'm gonna cheer for you or else, I'll wring their necks!"

He snorts at that as he shakes his head and smiles as he exits the room

So, you came up at the event and wore the puffy red satin strap dress that has petticoat underneath with a sling bag on your shoulder as you carry the heart balloons on the other hand

You did your makeup and hair like you always wanted to do, you smile to yourself as you look down at your creation

You feel good

It's so liberating

You finally felt contented and most importantly

You feel like yourself

Chrissy's mouth hanging agape as she smiles brightly as she looks at you

"She is such a little bitch" Rebecca slams her party cup on the table as she stomps her way to you

The whole class is there, they all given you compliments here and there and you've never been more so happier

You didn't saw her coming as you felt a harsh push on your shoulder almost stumbled you over

"What the fuck are you wearing?!?"

"Have you never seen a dress, Rebecca?"

"Are you jealous? because she can wear it better than you?"

You bite your bottom lip as you stop the laugh erupting from your mouth as you heard Robin's voice out of nowhere, causing the whole crowd to react

Nancy elbows Robin as she also laughs at her as well

Eddie is headed at the kitchen to pour himself a drink but abruptly stops at the commotion in the living room when he saw you there, wow is all he can think of right now

The cherry lips looks so enticing and inviting on you, he nod to himself, you've listened to his words and you took his advice that he never thought you would do but you just did

Yeah, he's mind is going blank the longer he stares at you

"Who the fuck said that?!?" Rebecca exclaims

"Here's the balloons that you're asking for me to bring" you hand it out to Chrissy as she gingerly took it

You turn your back around her but before she could lay a hand at you

You dodge it as you step aside making her lose her balance as she fall face flat in the floor making everyone in the room, boomed with laughter

"Ouch, that's gotta hurt" you tease with a smirk on your face

She grunts and grumbles, "Shut the fuck up!"

"Hey, I'm not done talking to you!"

"I think we are done-"

"You are not welcome-"

"Guess what, Rebecca, I don't give a shit about your self-proclaimed righteousness clique bullshit"

You lean down as she moved backward as you caught her faltered at her bratty attitude hinting that you are dead serious to your point, you got her right under your claws

You grinned, "You might be not so feisty anymore, huh"

"It's official, y'all, I'm balling out-"

"But I made you!" She tantrums like a toddler

You laugh in disbelief at her behavior

How fucking pathetic this is

"Well, it turns out highschool isn't about based on whether you are popular or not, it's about being a state of mind, I am choosing for myself now"

"Me too!" Chrissy snakes her arm onto yours as you beam at her

"No- you-" she grab a hold to her calf but she yanks it freely

"I am fed up, Rebecca! Don't make me tell everyone how you're so abusive to us, making us what to drink and what to eat, I am sick of it!"

A loud audible gasp fell at everyone's mouths

That's where it fell apart for Rebecca, the shell has been broken and it's clear, the real her squeaked as she ran towards the door out of embarrassment and ashamed

You and Chrissy chuckled at each other as you got a glimpse of Robin and Nancy raising their cups to you as you nod at them

"We're having a party, don't we?!?" You announced

After a beat of silence, everyone cheered and the music started playing

You said to Chrissy you will be out for a minute as she lets you to it

The moment you closed the door behind you at the backyard, the heavy feeling is now gone out of you

You can breathe easily now unlike before

You sat down at one of the pavements at the small stairs towards the pool

The sounds of chains jingling as you turn your head around who is approaching to your silent peace celebration of victory

He appears in his usual style, but except for he's wearing a maroon polo, (you don't see him wearing any like that before) a few buttons open at his chest revealing his silver of skin, ripped black jeans and belt chains

As always his favorite black boots, you felt thrilled to see him again

"Oh hi, Eddie"

"Hey"

He's holding a heart balloon which he offers to tie it around your wrist as you let him

You both hold eye contact at each other as he moves your bangs that it's poking your eye as you blush at his gesture

Does he have any idea of what he's doing to you?!?

You scoot as you offer him a seat next to you as he gladly accepts it with a smile

"I saw what you did back there"

You chuckle, "I'm sorry for stealing your moves"

"My moves?"

"I only did what you always do at the cafeteria"

"Oh that" he laughs "Y-Yeah, I always just speak up and standing for what it's right-"

"Exactly, I've always loved at how you preach"

He sheepishly smiles as you can see how deep his dimples are, you're fighting every bone in your body not to squeeze his cheeks right there and then

"Say, um- c-can you join me?"

You act dumbly, "On what?" but you know damn well what he's implying

Fuck, focus, Eddie

"Me, just me"

"You?"

"Y-Yeah, the two of us"

"Together?"

"A-a date" he blurt out and gauging himself at your processing expression

Your eyes sparkled and Eddie's chest is about to blast off at the proximity that you moved even closer to him

He can breathe the living days out of you and he can't stop smiling at your reaction

"I thought you'd never ask"

"Wait, what-"

You quickly peck at his lips as he swallowed hard and his cheeks turns bright red as you giggle at the transfer of your lipstick to his

He is frozen as a rock but his brain electrocuted to wake him up

He cups your cheeks as he leaps and gives you the most leg wobbling kiss that you ever gotten in your life

You dive deeper as his hands flies to hold your waist tightly as your freehand goes to his neck as you place your hand on his chest

You both breath heavily as you both cackled of your lipstick being smeared at your faces

You take a wet wipe to clean his face as he did yours gently, avoiding not to remove your makeup

"What would Rebecca thought about you and me together?"

"Why should I care? When I already love him the way he truly is"

He looks at you as he reads you carefully, no trace of uncertainty just pure genuine care and love for him

He slowly smiles as kisses your cheek as you sigh in content

You heard "Hey Lover by The Daughters of Eve" started playing at the party

"Eddie, that's our theme song!"

He follows your line of sight as he listens, you begin to sing a long to it, he finally got the meaning of it

"Hey, hey, lover, you don't have to be a star, hey, hey lover, I love you just the way you are"

He chuckles as he watches you, "I love you too, sweetheart"

a/n : let's pretend this is a very late valentine's gift to all of you but nonetheless, I made it! I had this idea for so long but I found the right song to relate the story that I had in mind! :))

please don't forget to like, comment and share! I will be so appreciative if you did all three and thank you so much of your support and take care! 🥺🫶🏻✨

[harksness]

Agatha Reader Insert Blurb (SFW)

Ok idk how many ppl are gonna read this but pls I would love for this to be a bit of a discussion for how people would apply this to themselves/their little pleasures.

Agatha is really good at staying up to date with things as the times change. She needs to make sure she fits in so she doesn't rouse any suspicion, right? So she has to, for survival. Fashion trends, politics, current events, and so on she's on top of.. But she's not good at staying up to date with music. She's horrible about it. You needed to explain everyone from Nirvana to Britney Spears to Billie Eilish to her.

When the 70s hit, she fell in love with that era and hasn't left it. The Cure, Elton John, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, (heavy on Fleetwood Mac), and she just hasn't really kept up since. She's listened to Rumors on repeat since it was released. (Just from vibes alone I feel like she'd love Dreams and probably crushed on Stevie Nicks.)

When you two start dating and you realize this, you think it's so cute. You listen to all of her favorite albums and songs, and love to listen to her stories from the concerts she's gone to. She ends up being a bit of a music dork, she loved going to concerts back in the day but as her favorite artists grew older and slowed down with touring she stopped going to shows.

So you introduce her to more music to bring that love back out of her. (Going off of my favorite musicians) she loves Weezer (Only in Dreams!!), Green Day (LAST NIGHT ON EARTH??), Bastille (Icarus, The Anchor, Warmth??) Chappell Roan, and unexpectedly, Britney Spears!! Also specifically Dragula by Rob Zombie. ("Dig through the ditches and burn through the witches" it should be her badass theme song lmao) (Feel free to add on in the comments w your favorite artists + songs you think she'd like!!)

She'll always go back to her old music taste, but you do notice her peppering in some songs you introduced to her and humming Pink Pony Club to herself.

You bought general admissions tickets to see your favorite artist and surprised her with them. And she's so excited, a wide smile on her face and eyes scrunched up in the cutest way. She looks up the set list to make sure she knows every song.

Because even though she's really good at staying up to date with most things, some stuff slips through the cracks. Or she doesn't have time for all of it. But it's easy for you to see just how much she enjoys discovering things she's missed out on, curiosity seeping through her voice as her wondering eyes light up with interest and it just really tugs on your heart. So you're always trying to find little things she doesn't know about yet.

Poptarts? She's like tf are those let me try them now. She loves the cookies and cream flavor but can only eat one because she thinks they're too sugary. You show her your old DS from when you were young? She gets addicted to Animal Crossing, Agnes is her favorite villager and she loves having you sit and watch her play. Tik Tok? She gets weirdly into Reddit stories. She tries to deny it and calls them stupid while she goes to find part two. Then continues to gossip about the story with you. Then points out everything that makes it obviously fake. (Add any more in the comments that relate to you or you'd just see from her!)

I just feel like Agatha has devoted over three hundred years to magic and big, huge things and adventures that she never gets to really indulge in the little pleasures in life. She has a lot of them to catch up on. While she tries to deny having any interest in it, she really does love when you show her the fun, pointless little things she's missed out on and just a sweet way the two of you really bond.

[hollymbryan]

Blog Tour + #Review: THE SWORD AND THE SOPHOMORE by B.P. Sweany (w/ #giveaway)! #rockstarbooktours

Hello, hello! Welcome to Book-Keeping and my stop on the Rockstar Book Tours blog tour for The Sword and the Sophomore by B.P. Sweany! I've got all the details on this YA Arthurian retelling for you below, along with my review *and* a giveaway, so let's go!

About the Book

title: The Sword and the Sophomore (The American Martyr Trilogy, Book 1) author: B.P. Sweany publisher: Th3rd World Studios release date: 9 July 2024

"Terrifically entertaining! ...a whirlpool of teenage hormones, high-school life and Arthurian magic. Hilarious and engaging!" — Diana Gabaldon, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Outlander series Arlynn Rosemary Banson is an atypical sixteen-year-old—the cool, popular outsider, effortlessly straddling the line between divas and dorks. Her forever young mother, Jennifer, is dedicated to making her life awkward by trying to be her friend. Her father, Alan, is a workaholic history professor who barely acknowledges his family’s existence. Her boyfriend, Benz, the quarterback and homecoming king, has just broken up with her, while her best friend, Joslin, bears reluctant witness to Rosemary’s romantic drama. But nothing prepares any of them for a Welsh foreign exchange student named Emrys Balin. Emrys looks like a teenager, but he seems to act much, much older. Rosemary discovers she is part of the Lust Borne Tide, children born to the royal line of King Uther Pendragon who are imbued with mystical powers after being conceived in lust. Rosemary’s parents are Guinevere and Lancelot, banished by King Arthur to twenty-first century suburban America prior to Rosemary’s birth as punishment for their affair. Rosemary is the third in the Lust Borne line, after King Arthur and his son Mordred, the latter of whom has traveled to the future to continue the line of the Lust Born Tide by retrieving Rosemary and returning her to the late fifth century to conceive a child with her. But Rosemary has other plans—plans that involve training under Emrys and kicking Mordred’s butt, as long as it doesn’t interfere with prom or getting back with her boyfriend Benz. Packed with action, emotion, and humor, The Sword and the Sophomore goes beyond the Camelot you know with an Arthurian tale fit for the modern world. Combining sword fights and epic quests with the real-life teenage issues of fitting in, sexual agency, and profound personal loss; this fresh take on the classic story of what it means to wield Excalibur and all the power it entails will make you rethink the power of legend.

REVIEWS:

"A tongue-in-cheek, self-aware Arthurian fantasy set in a 21st century American suburb that’s anchored by an empathetic, hilarious, whip-smart, fierce teen protagonist. The Sword and the Sophomore almost makes me want to write a young adult novel. Almost.”— Pierce Brown, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Red Rising Saga

"Captivating worldbuilding and an irresistible main character. I couldn't put it down."— A.G. Riddle, internationally bestselling author of The Origin Mystery Trilogy and The Lost Colony Trilogy

"What wonderful storytelling, for any age! Loved this book and especially the incredible protagonist—I would have loved to have known her in school! An excellent read!"— Heather Graham, New York Times bestselling author of the Krewe of Hunters series

"Dark forces from an ancient world descend on a high school near you. The Sword and the Sophomore is funny, scary, astute, and up-to-the minute. The pages turn themselves and you'll be cheering the unforgettable heroine on every single one."— Peter Abrahams, New York Times bestselling author of the Edgar Award-winning young adult mystery Reality Check and the Agatha Award-winning Echo Falls series for younger readers

Add to Goodreads: The Sword and the Sophomore (The American Martyr Trilogy, Book 1) Purchase the Book: Books2Read.com | Or purchase via my special link to the Th3rd World Studios store and get 15% off everything in the store!

About the Author

A veteran of the publishing industry, B.P. Sweany has worked with many notable content creators, including Pierce Brown, Dean Koontz, Diana Gabaldon, Alice Walker, and Dolly Parton. The Sword and the Sophomore is the first in a projected trilogy.

Connect with B.P.: Website | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok | Goodreads

My 5-Star Review

Okay, so admittedly, I didn't know what to expect with this book. It's a debut author and a publisher with whom I wasn't familiar, but I saw the summary and thought it sounded like something I'd like and figured I'd try it out. And let me just say -- are you kidding me?? I was kind of knocked off my socks by just how good this was and how much I loved it! The writing was top-notch and seamless, the action was non-stop, and the characters were amazing. If I hadn't known from the jacket that the author was a man, I would've sworn that it was a woman based on how accurately the main character is drawn. How does this man so easily get into the mind of a 17-year-old girl? I'm not sure, but it's kind of awe-inspiring! I fell in love with every single character, I laughed out loud, I cheered at the sex positivity, and I even bawled, y'all. I was *not* expecting to bawl!

There is so much to love within these pages, and I'm already excited to see what's ahead in book two, while thrilled that book one gave me a complete story. I'm so impressed with this being the author's debut! Granted, he's worked in publishing for some years, but still, what an accomplishment. I love the imagination! If you're at all a fan of Arthurian retellings, you've got to pick this one up! Or if you like YA adventures, stories of high school life, or urban fantasy -- please, please snag this one! I really recommend it and hope that it reaches a lot of readers! I promise you that reluctant readers would love this one, too.

Clearly, I loved this one, and if you end up reading it please do DM me and let me know your thoughts! Thanks so much to the publisher and author for sending me a copy, and to them and Rockstar for having me on the tour. What a blast I had reading this!

Rating: 5 stars!

**I received a copy from the publisher for purposes of this blog tour. This review is voluntary on my part and reflects my honest rating and review of the book.

About the Giveaway

One (1) lucky winner will receive a finished copy of The Sword and the Sophomore by B.P. Sweany! These are gorgeous books, my friends! This one is US only and ends 23 July, so get your entries in!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

[journeysintowebcomics]

Girl Genius Liveblog #155

UPDATE 155: Defend Mechanisburg

Last time the Doom Bell tolled. It has quite the effect in everyone in Mechanisburg and the vicinity, making them quack in their proverbial boots – something the Castle loves and introduces with wordplay. Kind of a dork, that Castle. So let’s continue now that Agatha is getting involved in the defense of Mechanisburg!

Oh, joy, another completely unrelated scene. Anyway! A couple of soldiers from an unnamed faction discuss another situation is happening – they captured some townspeople, for...one reason or another. Bargain chips, perhaps? Apparently not, because once the commander hears these townspeople are bakers, he tells to shoot them. I’m glad such order is met with reluctance! Not that it means much because, you know, chain of command, there’s not much of an option for this guy to refuse. War sucks that way, yeah.

Kudos to the townspeople of Mechanisburg, then! Maybe this is one of the many reasons why Mechanisburg and the Heterodynes are treated as people to be careful with and to not invade randomly, because even the townspeople will fight with everything they have. Good for morale!

Just as promised, the commander arrives and orders the few soldiers there to form a firing line and aim. Right before the final order to shoot could be given, the Doom Bell sounds through the town, making them tremble and pretty much fall to the floor. You know, I have noticed that nobody in this town seems to be affected by the bell beyond the trembling. Vanamonde’s the one who reacted the worst, looking like he had a coronary, but other than him, everyone’s reacting well! Why were all them afraid of the bell crippling their defenses? Nobody who lives in Mechanisburg seems worried at all.

Well that was a brief and kind of senseless interruption, but alright. Back to Gil! Who, judging by the words here over the door, has arrived to Mamma Gkika’s. How is Zeetha feeling, I wonder? Was she given Jagerbrau to drink? Is Higgs still around? So many questions, which may or may not be answered soon.

Sleipnir, it’s not just a beer hall, Theo can be left here. Better to leave the injured behind than carry them into a dangerous situation! She’s not happy at all to leave Theo at what she perceives as a seedy bar, but hey, if she believes Gil would love to leave Theo at a brothel, more power to her! Hah! I’d have thought she’d trust Gil and make no comment, but I admit, it’s pretty funny for her to grab Gil and be menacing.

It’s a good thing Mamma Gkika is willing to take more injured people, and I’m pretty sure it’s as thanks to both Agatha and Gil. She believes in gratitude, after all.

Boy, Gil, you better take control of your father’s troops before they’re forced to fight the Jagers. Gratitude or not, the Jagers will defend Mechanisburg and Agatha to the very end.

There is the sound of the bell! Just as expected, Theo, Sleipnir and the disguised women fall down as houses of cards, while Mamma Gkika is ecstatic. Gil...well he was rather okay, infact, it seems he liked it. His speech balloons even have the wavy outlines characters get when they’re rather excited!

Hah! Go suck a lemon, Tarvek, Gil just earned big points in Mechanisburg’s opinion. Hah, okay, no, Tarvek still has chances, but right now, Gil has impressed Mamma Gkika and therefore all the Jagers. That has to count for something.

Oh, thank goodness, Vanamonde has recovered from his maybe-near-death experience, and welcomes Agatha alongside the rest of the people who care a lot about the city. I also notice the city is currently on fire. The situation sure has escalated! I’m not the only one who noticed, Agatha noticed too.

“What do you think about that?” Well there’s only one answer for that question, as far as Agatha is concerned! And it’s not ‘that’s pretty bad’, like some people including myself would have replied in stupor. Her immediate reaction is a desire to crush whoever is responsible for that. Better get started soon, Agatha, there are like seven different factions.

Life in the Girl Genius universe sure must be...interesting. Hah! But, all things considered, I’d say this is one of my favorite scenes, just by virtue of this page. There’s just so much disbelief about Agatha caring, and about what past Heterodynes have done, and I find that hella funny. If the town survives they’re going to be rather happy with Agatha in charge, I’m sure of that.

It’s safe to say the Doom Bell knocked out most of the troops and everything that’s mooks, all that’s left fighting are those troops and clanks that are more advanced than the rest. Agatha’s immediately accosted by some of those advanced troops, she uses Gil’s lighting rod to fry them. That’s all the rod can do for now, though. Better run away.

There are a lot of people attacking, and almost no defenses. Well, they do have defenses, but there’s no guarantee they’ll work. Until the Castle has enough energy to use them, they’ll all have to rely on the monsters centuries of MAD SCIENCE have created so far. That’s swell!

Are you intending to tell me the Heterodynes managed to create a fuzzy Hulk expy and locked it underneath the town until the Doom Bell tolled? A...rather articulate beast, who is also committed to a relationship? Okay, yeah, calling this guy a Hulk expy is a big stretch, my bad! I like this guy. It’s a shame he’s unlikely to appear again. Oh well, that’s too bad.

Snoz isn’t the only monster in the town, but there aren’t that many. Luckily for Mechanisburg, the Jagermonsters are on their way. Won’t take long for them to arrive! But that’ll be for next time.

Next update: two updates

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

I dedicate this chapter to my brother because it's his birthday today. He has no idea that I am writing this (I mean both the FF and dedication) but if some very odd galactic coincidences ever make him go through the Kuroshitsuji tumblr tag and read a lengthy Cloudia/Undertaker FF: Happy 26th birthday, you hiding-birthday-presents-under-pillows-dork.

“Everyone can break.”

Countryside, England, United Kingdom – April 1848

 ~Cedric~

 The clock was ticking.

 Right before I had gone to sleep yesterday, I had received a message from Cloudia via the skull pendant that I should take tomorrow off and come to the manor at twelve o’clock. Now, I was sitting in the manor’s library, staring at a grandfather’s clock on the far opposite wall.

Alfred had welcomed me when I had arrived and told me that I should wait for Cloudia in the library. I was sitting here for almost an hour now, and I honestly wondered if she had forgotten about me.

  “Hello, Undertaker,” Cloudia said when she finally arrived ten minutes later.

  I had last seen her five days ago on her birthday, and back then, she had not looked very well. But she had still looked better than right now: her hair and clothes were as orderly as ever, but she looked shockingly pale as if she hadn’t slept for days, as if she had been drained of all colours.

  “Are you fine, Countess?” Cedric asked when he followed her through the corridors.

“I am as fine as the circumstances allow it,” she answered, keeping her eyes locked in front of her.

“And how fine do the circumstances allow you to be? I guess not much because you look awful.”

She stopped to look at him, and he grinned. Cloudia sighed and resumed walking. “I will tell you when I will tell everyone.”

He frowned. “‘Everyone’?”

“The rest of the Aristocrats,” Cloudia said. “And now, you can jump around joyfully like the child you are.”

“Didn’t you say that you would never allow me to be in the same room as Barrington Weaselton?”

“Times change, Undertaker. And please, just keep walking now. I am not in the mood for talking.”

  Cloudia was always in the mood for talking. Sometimes, it was really hard to make her stop.

  ***

  It was the first time that Cedric had ever stepped inside the Aristocrats’ Bureau. He knew what kind of room it was – a private place with especially thick walls where the Aristocrats of Evil could gather and talk about business – and how to get there as Cloudia had shown him around Phantomhive Manor a few months after they had made their deal. However, as the manor had a lot of rooms, Cloudia had only opened every door, told him a few things about each room before proceeding. It had still taken them the entire day.

“My lovely Cloudia!” said a voice as soon as Newman opened the door to the bureau for Cedric and Cloudia.

An immensely beautiful woman with blonde locks and dark brown eyes approached them, a smile all over her face. She was pale, perhaps even as much as Cloudia, and looked like she had just stepped out of a tale about princesses and princes, of angels and faeries. The woman’s beauty was mesmerising and the fact that she was wearing mourning clothes highly irritating.

She briefly hugged Cloudia. “How are you, my dear? We haven’t seen each other in so long now,” the woman said, holding Cloudia’s hands.

“As fine as the circumstances allow it.”

“But what do the circumstances allow, dear?”

“I asked her the same,” Cedric interjected, grinning, and the woman turned her attention to him, a sly smile on her cupid’s bow lips.

“Kristopher Underwood, the 46th Duke of Underwood, the nephew of the late Wallace Underwood,” she said, letting go of Cloudia and extending her hand to Cedric. “Marchioness Cecelia Williams – such a pleasure to finally meet Cloudia’s enigmatic addition to our small group.”Cloudia’s enigmatic addition to our small group.”

“Shouldn’t you have waited for Dia to introduce the two of you?” a man with short brown hair and a moustache said from a couch in the back of the room.

Cecelia smirked at him. “We are under colleagues, Barry, I think we can forget about etiquette in these walls.”

“You are not allowed to call me that.”

She shrugged and turned back to Cedric. “Cloudia did her best to hide you – but eventually, all little secrets come to light.” Cecelia ran a hand over his arm. “I cannot believe that she withheld someone like you from society.”

“Stop this nonsense, Williams,” a raspy voice said, stepping forward. “He is not one of your puppets – he is one of us.” A tall man with grey hair and a grey beard had joined them. He looked the oldest out of everyone in the room, but his blue eyes were young and cold.

“Oh, who says that you people aren’t my puppets?” Cecelia said.

“Because it is Mylady’s game we are part of.”

“My dearest Oscar, aren’t we all playing our own little games?”

He ignored her and looked at Cloudia who cleared her throat before speaking. “Duke, let me introduce you to your fellow Evil Noblemen. Cecelia already gave you her name. The tall man in front of you is called Lord Oscar Livingstone – and the man in the back who is too lazily to stand up and greet us is Sir Barrington Weaselton.”

“Insults before greetings, Dia?” Barrington said from his seat.

“Always insults before greetings.”

Cecelia linked arms with Cloudia. “Oh, we haven’t gathered in so long now!” She gazed at Cedric. “You need to know that Cloudia prefers to work on her own – she only writes letters to us for business and invites us for emergencies. You, however, are the lucky one who gets to work right alongside her.

“Say, Oscar, when was the last time we all have been here?”

“You can answer that for yourself,” Oscar replied, returning to his place in the seating area.

Cecelia smiled at Cedric. “The Case of the Hanged Men – March 14 to March 29, 1846. Fifteen days of absolute terror and mystery hanging over London. Fifteen days in which Barrington, Oscar, and I stayed in the manor to help our dear Cloudia and make sure that she doesn’t fall apart right before her sixteenth birthday.”

  Ah, I remembered this case. Every night for around two weeks, men had been hanged on clotheslines. People had barricaded their houses and taken down their lines, police had patrolled the streets of London without pause – and the Aristocrats of Evil had worked as they had never worked before. Still, the city had woken up to men hanging from clotheslines, and it had taken rather long to unfold the mystery.

It had been a busy time for Grim Reapers.

  “I am never falling apart, Cecelia,” Cloudia replied, scowling, and for a very short time, worry ran over Cecelia’s face. “Of course, you don’t, love.”

Cecelia led them to the seating area, and everyone sat down. Before Cloudia could say anything, Barrington raised his voice, eying Cedric.

“So you are Duke Underwood.”

“Kristopher.”

“My name is Barrington Weaselton.” He shook his head. “Dia – from which field did you pick up this moron?”

“Where were you born again?” Cloudia said, and Cecelia chuckled while taking a glass filled with wine from the side table. Newman seemed to have set it earlier with cups, a tea pot, and some snacks. Cecelia had got the wine from the bar in one of the corners of the Bureau though.

“You are one year older now, Dia,” Barrington continued, “I think you should stop being so mean and start being more mature.”

“You are forty-four, Barrington, and you are still behaving like a child. You are not in the position to tell anyone to become more mature.”

He turned to Cedric. “I am never behaving like a child – I am forty-four years old after all. I raised two children–”

“Kamden was raised by Phyllis and Frederick and Dr Alan, and I basically raised myself,” Cloudia cut him off.

“You didn’t raise yourself. How can a child raise itself? You had this very charming governess – what was her name again? I forgot it because of all her charm.”

“Agatha.”

“I meant the charming one.”

“Agatha was the only governess I’ve ever had.”

“Then, I must have imagined the charming one.”

“Apparently, yes.”

Again, Barrington turned his attention to Cedric. “Oh, where did I stop? Ah, right. I raised two children, am a veteran Villainous Nobleman, travelled through the world, fought against monsters…”

“Monsters?” Cecelia looked up from her drink.

“Metaphorical monsters, not real ones.”

“You cannot fight metaphorical monsters; you know that, Barry.”

“Don’t call me ‘Barry.’”

“I am still right, dear.” She took a sip.

“Well… I raised children, am a veteran, world traveller, monster fighter…”

“How long will you keep this up?” Cloudia wanted to know.

“… and I put up with Dia for eighteen years now. Normal fathers, veterans, world travellers, and monster fighters wouldn’t have managed that for so long.”

Cloudia cleared her throat. “Can we please start our meeting now?”

“We cannot,” Oscar said, and she frowned.

“Why can’t we?”

“Because, I am afraid, Mylady, you need to be at your finest to sit through a meeting.”

“I am fine, Oscar.”

He looked at her – he didn’t blink; he didn’t show any emotions. Oscar only looked at her.

  Apparently, Cloudia had chosen the oddest of people she could find to be part of her group of Aristocrats of Evil.

  “I am… I…” Cloudia sighed. “I should have picked up more agreeable Aristocrats. And what do you suggest, Oscar? What do you think can bring me back to ‘my finest’?”

“Horseback riding – when was the last time you went riding?”

“You sound like Thomas.”

“In that regard, Holmwood seems to be wiser than you, Mylady.”

“I cannot go riding when we have to talk about something of such importance,” Cloudia said.

“We will not talk about anything; we will only listen to the canon of Weaselton’s, Williams’, and Underwood’s relentless chatter until you caught some fresh air and sorted that chaotic head of yours, Mylady. You know very well that we will achieve nothing if your mind is not completely with us. Especially today of all the days you could have chosen as a meeting date.”

“Oscar, my head is not chaotic.”

Again, he didn’t say anything; he just looked at her.

“I am doing very well.”

Oscar didn’t move, and Cedric wondered if he had mastered the art of falling asleep with opened eyes.

“I don’t need you to tell me anything about chaotic minds, Detective Chief Superintendent Livingstone.”

He still didn’t do anything. Even Cecelia and Barrington didn’t do anything to interfere.

Cloudia sighed and stood up. “Very well. I guess I will see Falada now. I will return in around an hour – and then, we will definitely start the meeting. No nonsense, no rambles, no ‘Cloudia, you look a shade paler than usual but, of course, that automatically means that you aren’t feeling well not that you weren’t outside for a while.’”

“Aye aye, Watchdog,” Cecelia said, raising her glass. “We will see you in an hour then. I already miss you, sweetie.”

She waved at Cloudia as she grumpily left the bureau.

“I have never met anyone who was able to intimidate the Countess,” Cedric said when she was gone. “How did you do that, Mr Livingstone?”

“Practise, experience,” Oscar answered and poured himself a cup of tea. “I have known Mylady for five years now – and I was able to read her in less than five seconds. She is only an enigma for beginners, fools, and herself.”

“Rodomont,” Cecelia said. “It took me eight seconds.” Then, she smiled like a devil at Cedric, and, immediately, he knew that nothing good would come now. “Now to you, dear. Did you know that I have known your uncle, Wallace? He was such a fine man… his eyes didn’t have the odd colour of yours, but the shape was the same. You resemble him a lot, has anyone ever told you that?”

  Wallace Underwood had been a real person? All this time, I had thought that Cloudia had made him up just like she had made up everything else too.

  Cedric nodded. “Yes, everyone keeps telling me that.”

“Oh, really? That comes to a surprise to me because you don’t look like him at all. Wallace Underwood was an ugly idiot who neither had any children nor nephews.” Cecelia turned to Oscar. “I think doomsday is around the corner – Barrington was right: Cloudia took in a moron.”

“I am right here, Cecelia,” Barrington said but was ignored.

Cecelia dug her fingers into Cedric’s arm. “So, now, would you be so kind and introduce yourself with your real name? Then, you can proceed with telling us how you really met our dear Cloudia and what is the goal you are pursuing.”

  Surely, it hadn’t been a good idea to sit down next to her.

  Cedric freed himself from her grip and glared at her. “What goal are you pursuing? You said earlier that you were all playing your own games.”

“I want to take revenge on the people who took my dearest Michael, the love of my life, away from me,” Cecelia said without hesitation, and, only now, Cedric could see the coldness in her dark eyes. “Even if that means to work for the crown and give me to sin. Oscar’s game is so dark and twisted that you may go mad upon hearing it – your mind simply doesn’t seem to be very strong. And Barrington? Barrington is picking up old figures and struggling to protect Cloudia after he couldn’t protect her father.”

She raised her chin. “It is your turn now, impostor dear – what game are you playing? What made you want to become an Aristocrat?”

“I…”

  “Ced – wake up! It is time to wake up, Ced!”

  “Before I met the Countess, my life was boring – I did the same things every day for many years,” Cedric ultimately said. “I had nobody; for years, I was all alone. Then, I encountered the Countess and saw a way to break free from my boredom; that’s why I took it.”

Cecelia laughed. “Do you really think that we would believe this? You became an Aristocrat only for fun? Just because you were lonely you associated with the Queen’s Watchdog? That’s absolutely ridiculous.” She narrowed her eyes. “I have no idea who you are – and that worries me. I can only grasp a few things concerning you – the rest is locked up tight behind a steel door. As if you were a dead man. I need to be sure that you will never hurt or exploit our Cloudia.”

“Let Underwood be, Williams,” Oscar said. “Certainly, he will never do Mylady any harm.” Oscar’s gaze briefly met Cedric’s and a shiver stabbed right into his spine. Then, Oscar looked back at Cecelia, and Cedric could breathe again. He hadn’t even noticed that he had held his breath.

  He was a monster. This man was a monster.

  “And if I am correct, not even she knows about the demons chasing Underwood – and before he tells us about himself, he should open up to Mylady first,” said Oscar.

Cecelia stood up and grinned at Cedric. “I hope so. Let me tell you something, my dear Not-Kristopher, we all decided to become Aristocrats of Evil because of personal reasons, but that doesn’t mean that Cloudia is only important to us for business’ sake. We all enjoy her presence, and that poor girl already does herself enough harm – we cannot allow someone so close to her to hurt her too; it could ruin her. And how would the world look like without our Cloudia?”

She walked to the bureau’s bar.

“Especially for someone like you, Not-Kristopher, who only became an Aristocrat for fun, for someone like you to whom Cloudia was the first star in a never-ending dark night, a world without her would be rather gloomy.” Cecelia poured herself a new glass of wine. “Don’t you agree?”

  Why did Cloudia have to surround herself with such dangerous people?

And how could she leave me alone with them?

  “I have no reasons at all to ever hurt the Countess,” Cedric said, getting more and more annoyed because of Cecelia. She put down her glass on the top of the bar and turned around to him, and the smile on her face had something oddly soft in it.

“Cloudia Phantomhive is so much – my one and only friend, Oscar’s anchor, the daughter Barrington never had and simultaneously his second greatest failure. And to you, Not-Kristopher? To you, she is the person you love the most – the Queen of Your Heart.

“You love her even though you do your best to bottle up your feelings. You love her, but you are still lying to her. I am not certain how Cloudia’s feelings for you look like, but I assure you that she holds you dear although she would never admit it. You are lying to her about your feelings; you are lying to her about the true reason why you became an Evil Nobleman – what would happen if she found out about your lies? Don’t you think she would be hurt? Don’t you think you are hurting her with every day you don’t tell her the truth? One of the things Cloudia Phantomhive hates the most is when someone withholds something important.”

“I am not in love with the Countess,” Cedric set right. “And I don’t lie to her.”

“I hope so,” Barrington said, glaring at him.

“Denying will not help you,” Oscar meant, taking a sip of his tea. “Confessing, however, will.”

“Nobody confesses to Dia,” said Barrington, but was ignored.

“You hurt her as much as you hurt yourself with this,” Cecelia continued. “Oscar is right – you should tell her what needs to be told as soon as she returns from riding out. Cloudia will finally know about your intentions, and it is better if she breaks your heart sooner than later.”

“I am not in love with her,” Cedric said again. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

“It is not healthy to lie to yourself, Not-Kristopher. We all saw – and with ‘we all’ I mean ‘Oscar and me’ – how you looked at Cloudia. For the short time, she was in the Bureau, you could not take off your eyes from her – you may not have noticed it yourself, but we surely did.”

“I didn’t take my eyes off her because she walks around like a ghost and I am worried,” Cedric replied, annoyed. “I have no idea what is going on – what happened that made her like that – but I know that she shouldn’t be all alone outside right now.” He stood up and headed towards the door, but before he could open it and leave, someone raised their voice.

“You want to know what happened? Someone died.”

  ***

  ~Cloudia~

  I couldn’t believe that he had made me do that.

We had so much to do today – and he had just sent me away. I wasn’t a child anymore. I was used to being locked up; I was used to locking myself up.

  In her riding gear, Cloudia walked towards the stable and with every step she took, the familiar scent of horses and hay became more and more intense.

“Lady!” someone called her. With a smile on his face, Thomas Holmwood waved at her from the stable.

The first thing Cloudia had done after her decoration was to replace every servant Agatha Bolton and King William IV had employed. And during this shift in the Phantomhive household, Thomas had come to her, asking her to be her stable boy. At first, she didn’t want to employ someone who was only two years older than her – especially when he was terribly annoying – but Barrington had suggested a test trial and Horse Boy wouldn’t be Horse Boy if he hadn’t proven himself to be worthy of being a stable boy.

  Because I couldn’t get back Mable and the others…

Because I couldn’t let them see what I had become…

Because I couldn’t take them away from the new lives they had built…

Because…

  “Hello,” Thomas said when Cloudia reached the stable. “What are you doing here, Lady? Aren’t you having one of those secret meetings with Miss Merry Widow, Mr Silent Scary, and Sir Barrington? Oh, and with Kris. Nearly forgot him.”

He frowned and examined her. “You are not looking very well, Lady – did you fight in there?”

“I… We…” She took a deep breath. “I am here because I want to ride out with Falada.”

“Are you sure that you are fine, Lady? You didn’t ride out with him in a very long time.”

“I am fine. Can you… Can you just prepare him?”

Thomas shrugged. “If you say so, Lady. But if something happened, you can just talk to me. Even though you are my employer and I am only a servant. After all, we have known each other for quite a while now, haven’t we, Lady?”

Cloudia nodded absentmindedly, and Thomas vanished inside the stable. She leaned against the manor’s façade.

  “Even though you are my employer and I am only a servant.”

I closed my eyes.

  “Lady?” Thomas said, and Cloudia opened her eyes again. Her head was spinning, and she needed a while to be able to see Thomas’ face properly.

“Hm?”

“Falada is ready – but I don’t think you should ride out right now,” he said, his eyes widened. “You are really not looking well, Lady. You should go to bed. You should drink this disgusting milk-honey drink of yours and sleep.”

“I am fine, Thomas,” Cloudia waved away, and stroked Falada, her bay Thoroughbred. “Hi, old friend. Long time, no see.”

She was about to mount her horse when Thomas took hold of her wrist and forced her to look at him. Cloudia had never seen him so serious.

“I know what day today is,” he said with a low voice. “And I don’t think you should do this – not today. You can ride all day tomorrow, but not today.”

“Let me go, Thomas.”

“I’ve known you for six years now. In these six years, I’ve seen the best and worst of you, but I’ve never seen you like this. Not even on this day. In these six years, you have never missed an opportunity to call me names – and when you wanted to ride out, you’ve always prepared Falada yourself. Cloudia – I am worried, and I am sure the others are worried too.”

Cloudia dug her fingers into his hand and ripped it off hers. “You are only a servant, Thomas. Don’t dare to touch me again with your filthy fingers. Don’t dare to decide what I can do and what I can’t. You don’t have the right to do anything like that,” she snarled, mounting Falada and riding into the woods.

  ***

  Before I got Falada, I ran a lot. I remembered the day after the decoration when I woke up to the first sunlight of the day, got dressed in silence – and just run through London not knowing where my feet carried me.

I remembered the refreshing feeling running had brought to me, remembered how I had smiled and how alive I had felt when I had eventually returned to the townhouse.

From that day on, I had gone out for a jog every time after waking up if my schedule allowed it. I had never liked bicycles or driving in a carriage for too long, had always preferred to walk and run. But then, someone gifted me Falada, and I started to ride – and to my surprise, I loved it. I didn’t know why but I loved riding the instance I had first sat on top of my dear horse.

Lately, however, I found less and less time for it.

  Sometimes, she let Falada gallop through the forest, making the colours around her blend into one another, making it seem as if there were only she and her horse in the world; sometimes, Falada just trotted through the woods, and Cloudia took herself the time to marvel at nature’s beauty.

She had no idea how much time had passed – Cloudia knew that she should head back soon as she still had a lot of work to do, but, right now, she only wanted to be here and nowhere else.

Cloudia made Falada stop at a meadow of flowers, dismounted, and let herself fall into the flowers.

“Let us pause for a while, old friend,” she said to her horse, reached into her pocket and got out a few carrots which she tossed in front of him. Falada eagerly started to pick them up and eat them.

Cloudia’s body was sore from riding, but she didn’t mind the pain, in fact, she appreciated it. It reminded her that she was still alive.

She ripped out a flower and held it up. “An Evening primrose,” Cloudia said aloud and closed her eyes, pressing the flower against her chest.

  I had to apologise to Thomas. I would apologise to him right after returning to the manor.

  With difficulty, Cloudia sat herself up when a sudden thought overwhelmed her.

“Falada,” she said, still pressing the flower against her chest. “Falada, I murdered a flower. I…” Tears gathered in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “I… I just ripped it out without thinking. It can’t bloom today because of me… I…” Cloudia whipped away her tears, breathed in and out, and threw away the primrose. “I am going crazy, Falada. I am crying over a damn flower. There are flowers in nearly every room of the manor. They were all ripped out; they had all been stolen of a huge part of their lifespan. Why did I never cry over them? Shouldn’t I cry over every flower which died because of me? But, for some reason, I was never upset because of them. But now… now, I…” She ran a hand over her face. “I threw the flower away, Falada. I threw the goddamn flower away. I killed it and threw it away without thinking twice. What is wrong with me? I took away a life and threw a corpse in-between his living flower friends. I…”

Cloudia stood up and nearly tumbled to the left, but Falada walked towards her so that she fell against him. She cried against his soft fur, and he buried his nose in her hair and chewed a bit on it.

“There are periods of time in which I am feeling fine, and there are others in which I feel like I will never get up again,” Cloudia struggled to say, tears running over her face. “And my head… inside my head, my thoughts are spinning. And it hurts. My head and my body, they hurt. All of me hurts and feels numb at the same time. I don’t know.

“And I can’t even drink a cup of hot milk with honey. I can’t even look at it. It always helped – but I know… I know that it won’t help this time; I don’t know if it will ever help again. I don’t know if I will ever be fine again.” She took a deep breath.

“My mind is a mess – I am a mess. I could not bake Kamden a cake this year. I tried, but I always started crying when I began. I couldn’t even do my Watchdog work properly – that’s why Oscar, Cecelia, Undertaker, and Barrington are here. Because I need help to compensate my mistake. Perhaps, the Royal advisers had been right all along. Perhaps, I am really not suited to be the Watchdog. Perhaps, he was wrong all along…”

Cloudia stepped away and stroked over Falada’s nasal bridge. “I am a liar, Falada. I am a coward and a liar. I keep telling everyone that I am fine; I keep telling myself that I am fine. I wanted to tell Undertaker what is going on but I can’t. I simply can’t do it. Everyone else knows because everyone else knew him, and I know that I should tell Undertaker what’s wrong, that he deserves to know what is going on, but I am not brave enough to do it. Because I know that when I speak about it, I will start to cry and I don’t want him to see me cry. He should never see me cry. Not like that. Never like that.”

She took a deep breath. “Let us go back now, my dear friend. And I am sorry that I burst out like that.”

Cloudia whipped away her tears and before she could do anything else, two hands wrapped around her throat – and her vision turned black.

  ***

  ~Cedric~

  Cedric turned around and looked right into Barrington’s eyes. Before Cloudia had left, he had joked but, now when Cedric saw him, the memory of him joking seemed like a distant dream.

“Who died?” Cedric wanted to know, coldness running over his spine.

  I hadn’t found the name of a person close to Cloudia in my Death Book. Perhaps, I had overlooked it. Perhaps, this person had died someone else and not in the area of London.

Perhaps, I didn’t know the name of who had died.

  “Someone important to her,” Barrington said in a low voice. It surprised him that Cecelia didn’t cut him off. Usually, she would have done that, but now, she and Oscar were just silent. “Someone very close to her died a week before her birthday. Dia is always not feeling very well on her birthday, and this sudden death made it even worse. She couldn’t think straight, she still cannot, and this caused her to make a mistake – and this mistake made her gather us all today. Today of all goddamn days. Dia shouldn’t have done this, but she feels guilty for having made this mistake and wanted to compensate it as soon as possible – no matter what date today is.”

Cedric swallowed, the coldness having fully embraced his body.

  I didn’t want to ask this question because, deep inside, I knew the answer – and I dreaded it. But I knew that I had to. And I hated it.

  “What… what happened on April 10?”

Barrington cradled his head in his hands for a while, facing down and closing his eyes, before looking up again and clutching his hands together.

“Today is the anniversary of a case Scotland Yard had never been able to solve. A case which is haunting Dia for fourteen years now. A case to which she is the sole witness.”

Barrington looked at Cedric – and Cedric couldn’t remember if he had ever seen such a hurt, such a sad and lost expression like the one Barrington was wearing in his eyes before.

  Now, I knew why he joked so much.

  When Barrington spoke, his voice cracked.

“Simon Phantomhive died on April 10.”

  ***

  ~Cloudia~

  Everything was blurry.

I couldn’t make out my surroundings. I couldn’t make out from where the voice came which was speaking to me. I could barely hear what the voice was saying to me.

“I… I am not here to hurt you…”

  ***

  “Is she alive?”

“Think, Ainslie! Why should they have brought in a corpse?”

“Perhaps, they want to scare us?”

“Ainslie has a point, Prunella.”

“Be quiet, Adair.”

“I am not going to be quiet – we are in a far too small dungeon, and we are far too many people. If they don’t kill us, claustrophobia will hit me, and I will commit suicide with Robena’s ridiculously long fingernails.”

“I heard that, Adair.”

“I will not stay quiet like Julius and rock back and forth in a corner. I will speak until I take the last of my breaths!”

“I will end your life right here, right now if you don’t stop talking, Adair.”

“I will fully support you, Prunella.”

“Thanks. That means a lot to me, Kelia.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you think we can eat her?”

“That’s gross, Jessalyn.”

“But we didn’t get anything to eat for so long now, Prunella! If the new girl is dead, we should eat her. Levi already ate Ernest, Claude, and Vanessa. Why can’t we eat the new one?”

“There is no proof that Levi ate them.”

“Elliot saw it – and he is still traumatised. He hasn’t spoken a word since it happened.”

“Very well. Levi did eat Claude, Vanessa, and Ernest, but…”

“Can we eat the new girl then?”

“… we won’t eat the new girl.”

“Dammit, Prunella.”

“Prunella?”

“What do you want Ainslie?”

“Do dead people move?”

“Usually, not. Why do you ask?”

“Dammit, Prunella, the new girl moved.”

“Oh, be a smart-ass somewhere else, Adair.”

Cloudia woke up with a terrible headache and in-between a crowd of people and noise. Slowly, her vision cleared and she saw right into the wide blue eyes of a girl with messy brown hair.

  Where was I? Where was Falada? What had happened?

  “Are you dead?” the girl asked, puzzling Cloudia. “Prunella said that the dead don’t move, but now, she’s arguing with Adair, so I can’t ask her if the dead don’t open their eyes too or not.”

Cloudia struggled to sit up and leaned against a cold wall. She had been dreaming, but she couldn’t remember what her dream had been about – the voices around her had slowly woken her up and cut her off from her dream.

“My head hurts,” Cloudia said with a voice too rough and thin to be hers. “Can you repeat that please?”

The girl’s eyes widened. “I don’t know if dead people can open their eyes or not, but I am sure that they don’t speak!” A huge smile appeared on her face. “You are alive! You are alive! We already started to debate whether or not to eat you if you weren’t!”

“What?”

“Don’t worry – we decided not to eat you even if you hadn’t woken up! Prunella, Adair!”

A man with dirty blond and a woman with auburn hair turned around to the girl. “What do you want, Ainslie?” they said synchronically.

“The new girl is awake!” the girl, Ainslie, replied joyfully, and the man and the woman – Prunella and Adair – laid their eyes on Cloudia for the first time – and stared.

“It’s not polite to stare,” she said, massaging her temples.

“What is your name?” a woman with short black hair asked, and Cloudia skimmed over the crowd in front of her. There were around as many boys as girls present. Most were around Cloudia’s age, but some like Ainslie looked a lot younger. There seemed to be nobody over twenty-five.

“I am Robena,” the woman said. She was slightly older than Prunella and had significantly longer fingernails. “What is your name?”

“I am Cloudia,” she answered. “Where am I? Where are we?”

“We are in the Witch’s Castle,” Prunella told her.

“To be exact – we are in the far too small dungeon of the Witch’s Castle,” Adair added, and Prunella rolled her eyes.

Cloudia looked around the dungeon – this time, she didn’t look at the people surrounding her but at the dungeon’s structure and saw that… the door to it was wide open.

  That was more than strange.

  “Are we prisoners? Because if we are… why is the door open?”

A man in the back laughed. He had dark brown hair and bloodlined grey eyes. “Name’s Evander,

and I tell you, girl, what da Witch isn’t stupid. The door isn’t closed because i’ doesn’t ’ave to. Because da corridor behind i’ leads ter a labyrinf – an’ just like Levi’s a cannibal, da labyrinf is a place ov no escape.

“Sorry, new girl, but we are all stuck ’ere.”

[fell-in-love-didnt-you]

Worth Fighting For: SnowBaz Fanfic

There’s something Simon finds completely unsettling about noise.

It’s piercing, loud, and too much of a sensory overload. However, the lack of noise is also quite unsettling. He doesn’t know which he would prefer if he had to choose. He does know, though, that anything other than the deafening ring that’s blaring right now would be amazing.

Just seconds before, everyone was talking. They were all pestering him, getting into his personal space, asking if he was alright or if he needed anything. Eventually, Baz got them to leave the room. Agatha was the last to leave, having to be dragged away by Penny.

“And what the hell can you do for him that we can’t?” she had yelled at Baz.

“Agatha,” Penny insisted, clasping a hand around her upper arm, “now is hardly the time!” Dev and Niall had looked back from their place on the stairs, perhaps considering if they needed to step in. “Come on,” Penny continued, looking Simon in the eyes with a look that conveyed a silent, upset apology.

“Fine!” Agatha had shouted, breaking her arm free from Penny’s grasp and pushing past Dev and Niall, bounding down the stairs and into the night.

“We’ll come ‘round tomorrow,” Penny murmured. Then, as if she thought better of what she had said, she added, “Well, perhaps just me, and I can collect Dev and Niall as well.”

“Thank you, Penelope,” Baz rasped out, his voice long gone, “for everything tonight. We’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, Penny quietly walked out of the doorway and down the stairs, and Baz closed the door.

This leaves them where they were now. Simon looks up at Baz, holding the cold icepack against his bruising cheek and swelling jaw. Baz turns around from his place against the door and walks over to Simon, sitting on the chair opposite him.

“I know that they were all bombarding you earlier with this question,” Baz begins, “but are you really okay?” Simon nods, stifling the groan he feels at the pulsing pain. Baz brings his hand up, lightly taking the icepack away from Simon’s face and inspecting the damage. “That was such an idiotic thing you did,” he adds.

“I was protecting you,” Simon insists, reaching out his bruised knuckles and lightly running his finger over the several cuts above Baz’s eyebrow. “The spell they cast at you was weak, but you were hurt. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe assess the situation first,” Baz suggests with a hint of disdain very present in his voice. “You’re right when you say that the spell was weak. But that also means I could’ve easily handled myself.”

Simon shakes his head, this time failing to conceal his pain. “That’s not what matters here. They hurt you, and it wasn’t like I was going to wait and ‘assess the situation’. I guess I just wasn’t considering the fact that people who have friends will be helped when you punch them.”

Baz gets a sarcastic chuckle out of that, then replies with, “You may be brave, but you’re such an idiot sometimes.” He then murmurs, “Get well soon,” and Simon immediately feels a rush of warm magic spreading soothingly into the side of his face.

“Thank you,” Simon whispers. He hums at the aftermath of Baz’s magic flowing through him. It’s not like his own that’s all burning and smoky and harmful. Baz’s magic is like the soothing heat of a fire after a harsh snowstorm. It lingers and runs through Simon’s veins slowly, spreading a previously unknown warmth everywhere.

When Simon opens his eyes, Baz is looking at him quite seriously. The cuts above his eyebrows have dissipated, which makes Simon think that Baz used that healing spell on himself as well. “Simon,” Baz utters, and his voice is smooth again. It comes from low in the back of his throat, and he continues. “I know that you know that not everyone is as accepting and enthusiastic about this a Penelope has been. Hell, I didn’t even get to tell Dev and Niall. I’m pretty sure Dev’s intuition was enough for him, but I think Niall was in the dark. And I think Penelope was the one who went and said something to someone.

“All I’m saying is that you can’t expect everyone to love this.” He clenches his jaw and bites his lower lip, which Simon has noticed he only does when he’s thinking about something rather difficult. “You can’t fight everyone who doesn’t agree with this. With us.”

Simon nods numbly, though he wishes Baz was wrong. He wishes that he could shake people’s shoulders until they understood that this was the same love everyone else who didn’t have to come out has to give to their partners. Simon wishes he could break down the invisible barrier that history put up between people like him and Baz and people like Penny and Micah. (Even though Penny isn’t technically as straight as a pole.)

“Okay,” Simon agrees, closing his eyes and nodding once more. “I understand.” Baz smiles weakly, and Simon is sure that he feels the exact same way. It’s actually probably worse for Baz. Simon knows he grew up in a home with enough closets to get lost in, and he knows that Mr. Pitch hasn’t exactly accepted the idea of Simon ravishing his one and only son. Though his stepmother is quite nice, even if it just is so Simon doesn’t feel like a raging lunatic in their mansion.

Baz brushes his thumb over the spot where Simon’s bruise was and licks his bottom lip again, this time slow and deliberate, like he’s debating on whether or not it was a good move. Slowly, Simon leans in closer to where Baz’s face was already close and closes his eyes. Baz doesn’t wait, moving in as well and meeting Simon halfway.

Simon realized long ago that kissing Baz was so amazingly different than kissing Agatha. Kissing Agatha was easy, and it always felt like somewhat of a chore. Kissing Baz is easy, but it’s also the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. It’s more difficult than ancient texts that he has to decipher in class, easier than breathing, and just about as difficult as a maze is. Simon has to keep his hands low but also know when to move them but also know when too much is too much for Baz and himself alike.

So when he pulls back, it’s not because he doesn’t want to stay. It’s because that’s the only way he knows to keep Baz. Simon is constantly terrified of ruining…this…whatever that may be. They haven’t actually asked to be boyfriends, and Simon knows that should be the furthest thing from his mind right now. He should be worrying about the trouble he could get in for fighting or about the test he has to study for, if he’s even allowed at the school by this time tomorrow, but all he can think about is Baz. And Baz’s lips. And Baz’s lips on his own.

“You should rest.” It’s Baz who speaks, and it’s after a minute of knowing silence passes between them. A silence that’s comfortable, where Simon’s eyes are closed, and their faces are only centimeters apart. If he wanted to, Simon could reach out and pull him back in for another kiss. ‘Just one more. For me.’

“I know,” is the whispered reply from Simon. “I should do a lot of things. Like not fight complete arseholes where anyone could see me.” Baz just smiles that one. It’s his smile that says that he’s trying not to laugh because Simon is a dork and not funny and…and Baz runs out of things to tell himself after that.

“Sleep, Simon,” he mutters, standing slowly and outstretching his hand. Simon takes it, walking to their two beds to make one that they share together. Simon strips of everything but his boxers, slipping into the silk sheets that Baz’s family always sends him to school with. He makes fun of it every year they come back, though this year it was definitely playful. Baz joins after a moment, making Simon scoot over until his back is pressed comfortably against Baz’s front.

“Goodnight, Snow,” he murmurs into the skin at the nape of Simon’s neck.

“Goodnight, Baz.”

[apocalypticmovierp]

‘Crooked House’ Trailer: Glenn Close & Christina Hendricks Dive Into An Agatha Christie Mystery

There are a couple of us Playlisters are who bonafide Agatha Christie dorks, so news that we’re getting two big screen adaptations of her novels in the next few months is Marvel level exciting. Of course, Kenneth Branagh‘s star-studded “Murder On The Orient Express” is taking up most of the bandwidth, but “Crooked House” looks like it could be the sleeper favorite of the pair.

Continue reading ‘Crooked House’ Trailer: Glenn Close & Christina Hendricks Dive Into An Agatha Christie Mystery at The Playlist.

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