#DEBORAH YOU NEVER KNOW UNTIL YOU TRY

[clairedsfield]

HACKS (2021– ), 3.05.

[ham1lton]

thank u i had to make sure hehe. ok my thought is that i know jude is always so cool and collected UNTIL he’s around yn.

picture a yn that works with the team in some capacity and she’s very chill very professional. except jude CANNOT be normal around her. he’s like wile e. coyote just getting into hijinks and situations except instead of a piano calling on him, he hits himself in the face with the ball or whatever.

the other guys on the team are like can you relax you’re stressing us out. she’s being weird around you because YOURE being weird. just act NORMAL! and he cannot

he sees yn talking to the youngsters like endrick and arda guler and they make her LAUGH 😭😭 they try giving him advice :/ arda is like i will do my best to help :/

okay this is the perfect time for us to bring out a NEW addition to the ham1lton cinematic universe…. social media manager yn 😻

imagine social media manager yn who is attempting her best to get some decent content of jude and everytime she tries to film him, something bad happens like you said 😭

she is doing one of those sit down interviews and he suddenly develops an skin allergy to the fabric of the couch and has to leave and smother himself in medical cream 😭 she tries to play a game with some of the team and as soon as he tries to play, the game breaks. she films his post game interview, he gets a spontaneous nosebleed and has to go.

it’s like the world doesn’t want them together 😭

yn gets upset because she’s like omg this is all my fault and the team notice, so they start assigning other staff to do jude’s socials and stuff but he’s sad. where’s yn :(( why is she ignoring him :((

i have this one vision of his family around the dining table, and their parents are like ‘so what happened today?’ and mark (?) is like ‘oh i finally finished fixing that wardrobe’ and denise is like ‘well i found my deborah cox vinyl!’ and jobe is like ‘my practice went really well!’ and jude is like …. ‘i miss yn’ and everyone is groaning like ‘shut up abt yn jude shut UP! 😾’

so he sees her leaving one day and he texts his mum like ‘i need to speak to yn!! can u wait for me please’ and his mum is already putting on her tunes and is like ‘it’s fine. please sort this out so you can stop talking about it at dinnertime.’

so he runs after her and is like ‘yn hi why do i never see you anymore?’ and she’s very scared. bad things happen to jude when she’s around. what if an elephant eats him??? what if he gets him by a car?? what if a elephant eats him after he gets hit by a car???????

now u can decide how it ends. i’ve rambled too much. my bad y’all <333

[trainchomp]

Harry did Dexter so dirty. He took a troubled boy with mental health and emotional regulation issues, did not get him the help he needed, and instead pushed him towards harmful behaviors and forced him to hide from everyone in his life including his mother and sister. And then, when confronted with the consequences of his own actions, Harry kills himself, leaving Dexter alone with mountains of trauma and a huge, terrible secret that he’s not allowed to tell anyone because his father instilled in him this deep seated fear that he is, at his core, unlovable. What a horrible thing to teach your child.

And Dexter wants help, he tries to get help. He goes to NA, he tries to find god, he confides in his sister. Until there’s a little roadblock, a little set back, he meets a psycho sponsor and a murderous Christian and he decides there’s no way he’ll get better and he goes back to what he knows how to do. Because it feels good, and even though he knows it’s bad, indulging in the behavior feels better than trying to avoid it, which is painful, and difficult, and it’s just easier not to.

I was really upset when he gave up on NA, I think they really could have helped him. He is addicted to killing. Regardless of who he’s killing or why, it feels good and he wants to keep doing it. He can put up this wall of “i only kill bad guys” and “some people slip through the cracks” except that he regularly goes after people the police are actively trying to catch. Home boy did not “slip through the cracks”, you deliberately hid evidence from the cops in the hopes that you would get to them sooner.

Mostly I just hate Harry because everyone puts him on this pedestal of being a great cop and a good father and not only do we have absolutely 0 evidence of him being a good cop (the only thing they ever actually say about his detective work is that he was sleeping around with a Lot of CIs and never made Lieutenant), we also have 0 evidence of him being a good father! He accepted Dexter’s killing *in theory* but when confronted with it literally chose to kill himself instead of face what he had done, and actively abandoned his other child??? No matter how high one child’s support needs, your other child also has needs and neglecting them is abuse.

And actually, while we’re at it, why do they keep getting rid of characters like they never existed? What happened to the Irish nanny? What happened to the girl Angel was dating before the writers just decided to put him and LaGuerta together for no good reason? Where did they go and could you not have thrown them a line or two of dialogue?? Literally have Dexter say they need to hire Angel’s sister cause the old nanny moved back to Ireland and I’d be happy.

Meanwhile apparently Deborah is in love with Dexter despite us not getting any evidence of this leading up to the moment she realises it and their dynamic changing not at all afterwards.

Why is this show so bad? They had a fantastic premise, some pretty good actors, and I’ve never read the books, but I’ve heard they’re decent. They had everything they needed to make something watchable and they chose to make this instead? It’s so bad I have to wonder if they’re doing it on purpose. Is the whole thing meant to be ironic? are we supposed to understand that despite everyone parroting the opposite, Harry actually sucked? Are we supposed to think critically about Dexter’s actions, or are we just supposed to accept that it’s a good thing that he’s killing killers? Or was no one ever meant to think about this show too hard because it was primarily made for ad slots

[arokel]

please I need your all the presidents men wips I need them even if they aren’t finished. Think of the children

ask and ye shall receive :>

i'm usually very secretive about my wips BUT i will lower the veil of secrecy for a bit in the service of the children. looooong post under the cut!

wip 1 (with the creative working title of "sloan's wife")

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Bob said emphatically. His own beer had been knocked over by a particularly vehement sweep of the arm a while ago and he had been stealing sips of Carl’s ever since. “What’s Sloan gonna say when we ask to put his name on a story that’s just about how pretty his wife is?”

“He’ll say I’m right, she is very pretty, and everyone who buys the book should know it.”

Bob snorted, hiding his smile behind the page of praises to Sloan’s admittedly lovely wife. Stupid, drunken arguments with Carl were always more fun when Carl played along. “He’ll probably just be thankful you didn’t write about how pretty he is. The biggest miracle of Watergate is that he never said anything about you staring at him all the time.”

“Nonsense,” Carl said, tapping his beer against Bob’s lips through the paper. Bob obligingly lowered it and opened his mouth to let Carl pour several drops onto his tongue with drunken precision. “I’ve only got eyes for you.”

“Aw, shucks, don’t say that. You’ll make me blush.”

Carl shrugged. “Alright, I won’t.”

The words brought Bob up short. Despite Carl’s careful pouring, a few drops had landed on his chin. He wiped them off with the back of his hand and studied Carl’s easy, open expression. Not teasing. Not a joke.

“Don’t say that now,” Bob clarified, a distinction that made perfect sense to him in the moment but probably wouldn’t hold up under sober examination. “Let me think about it.”

“Alright. Tell me what’s so wrong about calling Deborah pretty again,” Carl said, with a smile and another shrug, as if he hadn’t just changed everything between them.

wip 2 aka chapter 3 of Not all things forever are hidden

Everything since the break-in had been such a whirlwind that Bob hadn’t even noticed the time passing until Mel, shrugging off his coat in Bob’s front hallway, had asked, “so who’s this Carl Bernstein guy you’re replacing me with?”

“Not a replacement,” Bob had said, laughing, “a colleague.” But it had felt wrong, and he had changed the subject quickly. He hadn’t wanted to talk about Carl with Mel.

Mel heaved himself off of Bob’s chest with a groan and began to gather his scattered clothing. Bob watched him, sleepy-eyed, and forced the words please stay down his throat until they stopped coming back up and instead sat queasily just below his breastbone. It wasn’t Mel’s company that he wanted, just someone’s. Just not to be alone.

“Well,” Mel said, lingering with his hand on the doorknob. “See ya next time. Tell Carl Bernstein hi for me.”

“I will,” Bob said, unthinkingly. He wouldn’t.

Carl was out of town, anyway. That was why Bob had taken the night off in the first place, and why he hadn’t just called up Carl to come over and go over leads again when he felt the loneliness starting to creep in at the edges of his vision. That was why he didn’t want Mel to leave.

wip 3 which is. just filth

“I can do better,” Carl says opaquely, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “Yours or mine?”

Bob knows what he’s really saying. “Stop off at yours first? Most of your notes are still at mine.”

They don’t fuck at Carl’s place, for the simple reason that Carl’s walls are thinner. Watergate has turned them both into cautious people, people who speak in code. Grab a change of clothes, Bob is saying, and spend the night with me.

“Sounds good. Want to stop for something on the way?” Carl says with a shrug, as if he’s read nothing into Bob’s words beyond the surface.

“I’m not very hungry,” Bob says. I can’t wait, he means. I want you as soon as I can have you.

Carl’s grin is sharp. “Me neither.”

Carl lets his hand rest just behind the gearshift the whole drive back to his place and then to Bob’s, the tips of his fingers brushing continuously against Bob’s thigh as if by accident. Bob stays in the car while Carl grabs a briefcase secretly carrying an extra set of clothes, too turned on to follow without embarrassing himself.

He holds it together until they’re safely inside his own apartment with the door locked behind them, and then he shoves Carl against the wall beside it, panting frustrated breaths against Carl’s neck as Carl laughs.

“You’re a goddamn terrible driver, you know that?”

“You were distracting me,” Bob growls, betraying his own anger by nosing Carl’s shirt collar aside to press a wet, openmouthed kiss against his collarbone. He’s not angry, per se, but there is an energy fizzing beneath his skin, a restlessness seeking an outlet. “Stroking my thigh and moaning the whole time - “

“I was humming along to the radio.”

Bob lifts his head to glare. “No one hums like that.”

Carl hums again - moans; really, no one hums like that outside of sex - and pulls Bob in, finally, to kiss him, deep and wet, fucking his tongue into Bob’s mouth, and even though he has Carl backed against a wall, suddenly Bob is the one who feels trapped.

wip 4 aka cuddling for warmth

“Hey, I just finished for the night, are you busy? I have something - maybe big, maybe nothing, but I want to talk it out before I sleep on it. Can I swing by?”

“Don’t worry, I canceled all my plans already since I figured you were going to call. I sensed it,” Carl said, affecting a tone Bob could only describe as mystical. “Come on over, I’ll make coffee. But dress warm.”

“Very funny. See you in a few.”

Carl’s apartment, while just as sad and cluttered as Bob’s, had two radiators, and Carl kept them both on full blast at all times in the winter. “Come on,” he would say, whenever Bob chided him about the waste of energy, “do you really think they turned down the heat in the White House? I bet it’s like a sauna in there,” and Bob hadn’t yet found a good comeback. At least when Johnson had turned the lights out you could see it.

But in that moment Carl’s energy inefficiency was exactly what Bob wanted, and so he was both startled and disappointed by the chill that greeted him when Carl opened the door and stepped back to let Bob inside, bundled in a quilt and looking miserable.

Bob stepped over the trailing edge of the quilt and, shivering, listened for the familiar clicking of the radiators. They were silent.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “You know Nixon said sixty-eight degrees, not off.”

“Heat’s out in the whole building,” Carl said. “I think they let Liddy out of prison so he could take a sledgehammer to the furnace to spite me personally.”

“Somebody smashed up the furnace?”

“Well, probably not. But if anyone did my money’d be on Liddy.”

[wonderlandmind4]

i've returned to talk about daredevil AHA, i swear to fucking god i WILL SUE I WILL SUE FUCKING KEVIN FIEGE I WILL SUE THE WRITERS omg i just needed foggy and Karen back AND THIS IS WHAT I GET OMG IM NOT BELIEVING IT FOR A SECOND BRUH

Hi friend!! I’ve missed you.

Okay so. I am holding onto hope that:

1- The first half of the season (if that rumor of the first part being episode 1-9 are true) will be when the blip happened and during the blip, which would give the excuse and reason for Foggy and Karen NOT being there. It’s now seeming like Matt never got snapped away- which I would LOVE to see how they do that with his senses cuz that shit would be so so tragic in Matt’s pov having no idea what’s happening and nothing he can do to do stop it- so Matt doesn’t get snapped, but Karen and Foggy do- so their firm….is also gone. It would be too painful for Matt to continue that business without them.

Due to these reasons and pain and guilt and PAIN and Matt, because he’s Matt, will somehow blame himself for not helping in a battle he had no idea was happening and stopping it. He may go into a depression again, maybe this is where and when he meets Kirsten or something. But during the 5 years of the blip, he decides to work for/with another firm, or start a new one again.

2- Again if the rumor is true and the second part of the season is episodes 10-18, maybe that’s when End Game happens and everyone comes back. (I don’t think Born Again was even close to finising that first half of filming before the WGA Strike so reaaalllyyy, maybe there’s wiggle room here once selfish studios pay writers and actors what they deserve and more and filing starts again whenever that will be)

But my theory and some other fans theories, that the second part will be AFTER the Blip, and they can do a little time jump if they want or flashbacks or something idk. Let’s not forget in She-Hulk Matt actually looked and seemed happy, in a good place, at times lighthearted and having fun and THE SAME WITTY CHARMING ASS (i say fondly) HE IS (that didn’t change) with Jen and he even says “we” talking about his firm and Matt has always kinda been against bigger/giant law firms because most of the lawyers that work at those places tend to be more corrupt and not have the clients best interests at heart. Maybe if he joined a bigger firm during the blip there would be some conflict there.

And after, this would be A great reason and opportunity to bring back Foggy and Karen and could potentially start up their business again, or at least get Foggy to join the firm, OR they have a little branch under the bigger firm. The point is, they could use the second part of the season to bring back Nelson and Page.

And Matt’s words to Jen sounds more like he has Foggy back in his life and he’s still in a pretty good place. You don’t think Foggy would get an absolute kick out of Matt having a one night stand with She-Hulk!? He’s be so proud and cracking joke’s because “she literally spanked your ass twice” 😂 (Kevin if you’re reading this…)

3- After seeing Charlie Cox at two cons and meeting him twice, I firmly and 100% believe he has somewhat of a voice in some decisions for Born Again. The studio KNOWS this show or “reboot” or continuation wouldn’t be possible or the same without Charlie. Kevin knew that. And the reaction Charlie/Matt got in NHW PROVED how much the entire fandom loves him as Daredevil. So, I feel like his input and opinions are valued. Which makes me hopefully guess/theorize that Charlie has at least spoken to someone about bringing back Elden and Deborah. And I know Vincent really loved Deborah as Karen too, and I feel like he would also have a say because you just can’t change him as Fisk either. Same with Jon as the Punisher.

So again, I am holding out for being hopeful and not truly believing anything until it’s in the actual episodes I watch. It’s marvel, we have to remember that, they lie and gaslight fans all the time and try to convince the fans what’s not true and what is. So a twitter account from “sources” is a little harder to believe.

I have nothing against Deborah Ann-Woll or her as Karen because I actually loved Karen. But 99% of the heart in Daredevil was Foggy and his relationship with Matt. To not have AT LEAST Foggy be in the show at some point is utterly ridiculous. Matt’s not suddenly going to have a new best friend who truly gets and understands every single side of him and knows his past and martyr tendencies like Foggy. Matt isn’t just gonna straight up trust others and tell them he’s also Daredevil (Jen literally just ripped his mask off but he had no intention of telling her know)

And honestly, just as no one else but Charlie Cox could play and be Matt/Daredevil, no one else but Elden Henson can be and play Foggy. I just don’t think that amazing heart of Foggy’s can be the same without Elden.

Wow that was long and it’s 3:45am so I’ll step off now.

[crookdeclipses]

Odd question, but if Ada existed in the films, who do you think could play her? I'm curious 💜

My goodness, I'm so sorry I'm late in answering this, I only just saw it.

I don't find this an odd question at all! I have a couple of face claims for her, my two favorites being Deborah Ann Woll, or for a more authentic English feel, Charlotte Spencer

They would both have been around the right age at the time. The shape of Charlotte's face is exactly how I imagine Ada's, and she also has the same eye color as Ada when she was human. Deb seems more likely though, given that it would have just been easier to cast an American actress. Deb didn't occur to me until fairly recently, Charlotte was my original face-claim, but I was trying to look for a visual representation of Ada's exact hair color and that picture of Deb came closest. I never watched True Blood; I know Deb as Karen Page in The Punisher, where she sports her natural blond, so it hadn't even occurred to me that with that kind of shiny-new-penny hair color (which is exactly what Ada's hair is supposed to be - like, almost a rose gold type deal) she'd be a dead ringer for her.

[sapphicscholar]

10, 12, 21?

thanks for these! Let's see what we've got!

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

Okay if the question was which am I the happiest *to have written* this would be a different answer (indulgence), but re the actual writing process, I think Two corpses. Everything's fine. has gotta be at the top! It was nice to have something that was largely pretty silly (a murder mystery) where Ava and Deborah were simultaneously trying to work out their own interpersonal issues while also playing their parts in the game and getting totally misread by everyone around them!

12. What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

Hmm, Adrift (Hacks historical pirate AU) is up there because it's far from my normal genre (much more action-heavy), required a fair amount of research to be close to historically accurate (which is, for better or worse, one of those things I'm really committed to), and just didn't get a ton of interaction (I know lots of folks don't read AUs, even more don't read historical AUs, and plenty don't read WIPs until they're done, but it was the first time in a while I chose to start posting while I was still writing, in large part because lots of folks were so bummed about the tag being quiet, and it was hard to keep up motivation after that). I wrote and posted 3 chapters, but the combo of all those things definitely bumped it down my priority list - it'll get finished, but all things considered, it'll probably say in the back seat until I've made it through work commitment stuff unfortunately!

21. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Ooh the one I posted in response to @ensorcei is probably up there, but from the same fic (indulgence) is this back and forth because I just really love the rhythm these two characters sink into when they're at each other's throats (because they so often show their cards and give away just how much they care even at the height of their cruelty!)

Blanche’s scowl deepens. “Your talent got you here. Own your achievements.”

“You think you could have lured me from France?” Judith asks with an incredulous laugh.

“All it took was a tawdry affair with a boring American. It can’t have been that hard.” Blanche finds herself leaning in closer, her voice growing more and more ardent. “He can offer you what? Sex? Stability? I gave you the world. A career. A name for yourself.”

“And I want both!”

“You can’t just have both.” Every inch Blanche has ever taken has been a battle, and there has never been a victory without its concessions.

“No, Blanche. No. You think you can’t have both.” Something twists uncomfortably in Blanche’s gut. “You sit there and act superior telling yourself no again and again and again. But all you’re really doing is hiding. Ceding ground before you can even risk losing it.”

[nobody7102]

Normally I don’t post shit like this but it’s come to my attention that some people A) Don’t know how to have a civil discussion and B) Don’t know how to hate on characters without hating on actors(unless the actors actually have done something to deserve it)

(This is a targeted post)

Everyone is allowed to have opinions, in the US that’s the whole fucken point of the first amendment. HOWEVER, when you do clearly use that for your points without any regard for other people’s opinions and belittle others for their opinions that’s when you become hypocritical and the issues start.

You can dislike characters that’s fine, but unnecessarily hate on the actors who’ve done nothing wrong is different(separate Actors from Characters!)

You post your own opinion yet you have no respect or regard for other people. You ignore the valid evidence and reasons others try to show you and spew utter bullshit when actually asked for valid reasons for the hate you give.

We understand, you have so much hatred and disrespect towards anyone that isn’t Matt Murdock/Charlie Cox. The double standard you have are amazing, truly.

Normally I’m not one to police in the Marvel fandom because lord knows so many people already do it but when you spew so much bullshit to the point where I can’t tell your mouth from your asshole, then yeah I’m gonna say something about it.

A) First and foremost leave actors/character’s appearance out of the conversation/equation when you try to make a point. As soon as you bring up how “ugly” someone is you’ve fucken lost, apperence is never a valid/good argument (regardless how “ugly” a character or actor may be)

B) You get so pressed when other fans/people express their love for characters/actors(EX: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page) yet you expect people not to get pressed whe. You show hatred for the character and their IRL counterparts? How the fuck dose that work?

Again I’m not normally one to say “oh that’s not comic accurate” or “go look at the comic/have you even read the comics” bc lord knows I don’t read all the comics, but when you show so much disregard not only for the people/actors who provide you with the content/storylines you are so blatantly scrutinizing I’m gonna be a little bit of a gatekeeper.

Foggy Nelson was the whole reason “Nelson and Murdock” was even a thing to begin with. Foggy was Matt’s only friend until Karen was introduced, he has kept Matt on his feet and out of so much fucken trouble. Without Foggy who the fuck knows where Matt would be.

Karen Page was their first case. Without Karen “Nelson and Murdock” would have ended after they left “Landman and Zach” because they weren’t getting cases. Yes Karen is an amazing investigative journalist, she is the reason we/the public know everything we do about Wilson Fisk. Sure she didn’t “earn” her job at the Bulliten but she sure as shit proved that she deserved to be there.

Not to mention Season 3 Episode 13, Titled “A New Napkin”: after Fisks incarceration Foggy, Karen and Matt sit down in “Nelson’s Meats” and Foggy writes down “Nelson, Murdock and Page” implying that Karen will/wants to become a lawyer or at least help further in some way other than just being an assistant/office manager.

Foggy and Karen helped shape Matt as a character. Don’t disregard their efforts.

Yes character make stupid decisions all the fucking time: the whole point of the show is showing Matt Murdock being a fucking dumbass as he saves the city/Hells Kitchen.

But Matt isn’t the only character that saves the city, sure he does by being a vigilante but Karen and Foggy help the people of the city by being a voice for them as well as with how they help Matt.

Don’t even try to belittle actors because without actors you wouldn’t even have shit to shove in your mouth. The actors are fucking phenomenal so don’t belittle their work because I know you wouldn’t want someone to belittle your work. (Also Deborah Ann Woll and Elden Henson are fucken hot)

Yes everyone is allowed to have their opinions.

But if you disregard THE SOURCE MATERIAL of the effort which you hate upon as well as the efforts of the actors/people who provid you with the content, AND show so much disrespect towards them and other fans. You loose that right the moment you become a bitter bitch about everything.

There is so much evidence that proves how vital Karen and Foggy are to Daredevil/Matt’s story.

Just because they’re small parts doesn’t mean that their efforts are.

(Also quick edit: Elektra is “dead” her not coming back isn’t racially motivated(coming from an Asian American I can speech first hand about expressing racial motivations) it’s The Hand preparing her for rebirth and to come back as Black Sky, calm the fuck down. Not to mention: ELODIE YUNG’S CAREER IS GROWING! She had other projects and priorities currently(yes they could recast her but I’m sure she’s probably open to coming back) she has her new show on Fox, and she’s very clearly invested in other things currently)

[wordsandrobots]

Me: hey, how about we pick one idea into which to sink this unfocused need to write something new now Wishing on Space Hardware is completed.

My brain: Have you considered randomly fixating on Iron-Blooded Orphans' director referred to Agnika Kaieru as being 'like a shonen protagonist' and revisiting the concept for a gathering of the original Seven Stars, the one you dismissed because it would be just blatantly making stuff up about why Gjallarhorn turned out the way it did.

My brain: Also here's some random extra smut featuring Shino, Yamagi and Eugene.

Me: . . . you cannot behave for even five seconds, can you?

My brain: 8)

The smut has been added into the pile. I have now completed two E-rated fics, which I may post when I'm done with WoSH.

Beyond that, I am temporarily exorcising the Seven Stars fic idea as the following script in which I try to work out voices for each of them. I will not be working on this any further until after the Urdr Hunt animated feature comes out, because hopefully that will include details about the first Baklazan and I can de-assign him, her or them from Antarctica.

The Death of Agnika Kaieru

INT: Library inside Agnika Kaieru's mansion

Gargin Bauduin (who has an eyepatch): “Hello Kalf.”

Kalf Falk (who walks using cybernetic leg braces): “Oh. It's you two. Sorry. I didn't –”

Gargin: “Quite all right. We understand completely, don't we Angelica?”

Angelica Elion (who is in a wheelchair): “It's natural to be upset after seeing him like that.”

Kalf: “He's just… he was always so… vital. Now he's just lying there and… I keep wondering how that could have happened.”

Gargin: “Age, usually. That'd be the normal cause. Trust Agnika to get the same result three times fast.”

Angelica: “It's good to see you. We weren't sure you would make it, given how busy you've been.”

Kalf: “Yes, well. Someone has to care about the things none of the rest of you can be bothered with.”

Gargin: “Come on, don't be like that. We rely on your work getting the Ariadne back into shape. Don't know what we'd have done without you.”

Kalf: “I suppose you could've always thrown some of your pet cult at the problem.”

Angelica: “The Seven Star Corps is the reason we've been able to make any progress with the rebuilding. Whatever you think of it as a concept, it has been both necessary and successful.”

Gargin: “Not to mention the sacrifice its members have made. I would have thought you'd be the last person to sneer at those who've lost everything and yet still find it in themselves to work for the good of the future.”

Kalf: “I – yes. You're right. I apologise. That was… I'm just…”

Angelica: “Believe me, we all are. We understand.”

Kalf: “So, um, how's Deborah?”

Gargin: “Big as a house and cursing me daily for having the gall to conceive a child with her. Any protest I make over how I couldn't possibly have predicted triplets is being treated as an act of war. How's Marco?”

Kalf: “Fine. Or, well, he was last I had the chance to speak to him. And believe me, I see the irony of a communications expert not finding time to talk to his boyfriend.”

Angelica: “Perhaps once we're done here, you'll be able to go visit him.”

Kalf: “Perhaps.”

There follows a scene in which Arzona Issue arrives and gets into a heated argument with Kalf over Gjallarhorn's future, which leads to Kalf storming out.

Gargin: “That could have gone better.”

Arzona Issue, dropping into an armchair: “He's never forgiven me for what happened in Paris.”

Gargin: “Massacres do tend to cast shadows over a friendship, yes.”

Arzona: “I didn't want things to go that way. I tried to stop it! But in the end –”

Gargin: “I know, Arzona, old man. I know. Deep down, so does Kalf. He's a surly little brat at times but he's stuck with us this far.”

Arzona: “I'm just trying to be logical. Agnika held everything together by force of will. Without him…”

Angelica: Starting a family isn't something people generally do out of logic. Or at least, not out of spoken logic. Not all of us were born with the expectation that we existed to advance our parents' name, you know.”

Arzona: “I am aware, thank you. I… I shouldn't have brought it up. We can't discuss it properly yet anyway. But with so much to do… Agnika's not even left a will, can you believe that? The single most important man on the planet and he's going to die without his affairs in order.”

Gargin: “That seems somewhat out of character.”

Arzona: “I asked him about it once. Early on, when we were pulling all remaining military assets under our command. He'd defined the chain of command down to each individual soldier but as for his personal life – he told me he'd worry about it when the mission was complete.”

Angelica: “Now that's like him.”

Arzona: “He was asking for Valerie earlier. Came round for a while and then … Valerie, Alvin, even Petr. His old friends. I didn't know what to tell him. If he'd forgotten…”

Gargin: “Ah, come now, don't tear yourself up. This is one area where you're allowed not to be perfect, believe me.”

Arzona: “I wonder if it's going to be our fate too, eventually. Fading by degrees and then – oh. F-forgive me, Angelica. That probably sounded…”

Angelica: “It's an extremely sensible concern. None of us understand the long-term effects of the augmentation procedures, much less the toll the War took. I sometimes suspect it's easier for those of us who already lost the use of a limb or two. Saves waiting for the unexpected.”

Gargin: “Besides, Agnika always pushed himself more than the rest of us. My eye, Kalf and Angelica's legs, those were our extremes. Agnika's lay far beyond us.

Arzona: “Perhaps. I still can't shake the idea time is set against our efforts.”

Angelica: “That will always be true.”

------------------------

EXT: Garden

Maki Fareed (wine-glass in hand): “Dear me, dear me. Here's a man reeling from a regrettable encounter with our illustrious leader. Come sit with us, my child, and have a good long scream into the koi pond. It'll make you feel better.”

Kalf Falk: “Uh… sure. Fine. Yes. Arzona is being…”

Maki: “Arzona is being Arzona, as per usual. Did he give you the pitch for building a dynasty, too?”

Kalf: “Does he really expect us to become, what? A new hereditary elite? Did he forget how the War started?”

Maki: “What goes on inside his head is something I have long since ceased trying to fathom. All I know is, I became a pilot precisely to avoid being reduced to a brood mare and the irony tastes bitter. God, I envy Baklazan. Imagine being stuck a million miles from this dreary excuse for the wake. Lucky bastard.”

Embrilla Kujan: “Agnika isn't dead yet.”

Maki: “Neither is a vegetable before it's picked. I fail to see what is gained by splitting hairs.”

Embrilla: “Tactful as ever…”

Maki: “Do shut up, you dreadful old stick-in-the-mud. If Arzona's already planning the funeral and the next five hundred years, I don't see why I need to guard my tongue.”

Kalf: “Him and his damn plans – and of course Gargin and Angelica are going along with it.”

Maki: “But of course. The Greater-Good Gang sticks together.”

Embrilla: “I wonder what Agnika would have thought.”

Maki: “Not to speak ill of the soon to depart but I believe we all know this is coming out of Agnika leaving too much room for Arzona to do the thinking in certain matters. Oh, don't look at me like that. He was an inspiration, obviously, but he did have a regrettable tendency to make everything about himself. It's not sustainable.”

Kalf: “I always thought he had a good grasp on the long-term. Everything he said was always about what we owed humanity's future.”

Embrilla: “Maybe he assumed gathering together people who cared about it the way he did would be enough.”

Maki: “As I said. Now here we are. Speaking of which, who else are we expecting to come pay their respects? Nadira, I assume, and where he goes, Jizin will no doubt follow. Tasmoore?”

Kalf: “Yes, I saw him arriving when I was up at the house.”

Embrilla: “Medoz was on the mission with Baklazan, so she's out.”

Maki: “Pity. She'd liven things up no end. I suppose I'll just have to chip away at Agnika's remarkably well-stocked cellar until my mood has been sufficiently detached from the circumstances. Who did this place belong to before it became a convalescent home, anyway? I cannot believe these vintages were collected by someone even you two could drink under the table.”

Embrilla: “Have you ever tried taking anything seriously, Maki? You might enjoy the novelty.”

Maki: “Oh, I absolutely have. But you'll notice there are no mobile armours left to kill, my dismal darling, and past them, I have found very little to be worth the effort.”

Kalf: “It belonged to some kind of regional governor. They donated it to Agnika in honour of everything he'd done, when the War was finally declared over. I don't think he ever used it before.”

Embrilla: “That tracks.”

Maki: “Doesn't it just? Well, bottoms-up, dear-hearts. Here's to the man who saved the world.”

--------------

For the sake of clarity, I seem to be leaning towards treating Maki and Embrilla as inseparable friends whose love-language is hurling insults at one another. Maki, Arzona and Gargin are hold-outs from whatever aristocratic organisations existed pre-War to lead to the whole 'honour duel' thing. Kalf and Angelica are somewhat younger and somewhat lower class. My thoughts on Agnika place him as growing up more in a academic/scientific environment, which is why he's friends with a bunch of engineers and mathematicians pre-War (this is expanding from stuff I sketched in Eugene Sevenstark and the Hesperus Treasure).

The Seven Star Corps is a concept I came up with to explain where the surname 'Sevenstark' comes from, because it clearly requires some sort of history.

I'm not sure where this piece would be going if I wrote it in full, which is why I haven't written it already. However, I may be able to use it as set-up for the sequel-sequel fics that I have alluded to previously, for reasons I won't get into yet.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

The Brother Trap

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Owen wants to connect with his half-brothers for the first time. Luckily for him, they all go to the same university. Will bad blood between twins keep Owen from the family of his dreams, or is he the missing piece they've always needed?

Chapters: 5/?

Characters: Owen Mercer, Axel Walker, Thad Thawne, Bart Allen, Meloni Thawne, Deborah Morgna, Preston Lindsay, President Thaddeus Thawne Mention

Relationships: Owen Mercer/Axel Walker, Thad Thawne/Deborah Morgna, PrestonBart

Additional Tags: POV Third Person, College AU, Angst and Fluff, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, No Powers AU

Chapter Five: Sportsmanship

Owen sat at the top of the bleachers watching the sunrise. He hadn't been able to sleep, so he thought it'd be nice to be out in the open air. Someone tapped his shoulder and startled him. He turned around to look Thad in the eye. "Jeez, how'd you—? Good morning, Thad," Owen whispered.

"Morning," Thad mumbled. Owen offered him some hot tea. "No thanks."

"Thad, is something bothering you?" Owen whispered. Thad nodded and looked straight out into the horizon.

Thad wanted to say something, so Owen stayed silent. He didn't want to risk cutting Thad off and having him shut down. "Bart and I have sleeping problems. He gets restless, and I have nightmares. Sometimes, I wake up from a nightmare, and I watch him until I can go back to sleep," Thad confessed, "I think it's the nicest thing he can do for me sometimes. It's the only time when I don't feel... Inferior."

Owen took a sip of tea and nodded, waiting for Thad to continue. When he didn't, Owen asked about his nightmares. "Sometimes my mom had to go away for work, and she'd leave us with family or friends of the family... But we're twins, and sometimes that can be a lot to handle, so we'd be split up for whatever time she was gone. I'd usually stay with our grandpa, and he'd go stay with our Uncle Max," Thad took a breath, "He's not really our uncle. He just cares about us... About Bart."

"Yeah, what's your grandpa like?" Owen asked.

"Well, he was rigid, competitive, cold. Nothing I did was ever good enough," Thad explained, "Bart and I were fourteen in track together. We used to do three events each. Our third was the relay. We were evenly matched back then, so we took turns being an anchor.

Grandpa showed up to watch us race, and everything was going great. I was the anchor, but our third was slow on the exchange, and I got second. I knew what Grandpa would say, and when Bart came to congratulate me after the race, I snapped at him. I hit him, and I'll never be able to take that back.

I have nightmares about losing him all the time, but I can't tell him that. I haven't earned the right to tell him that-."

"Thad, I'm no expert on siblings or anything, but maybe telling him about stuff like that'll make you seem more human to him. I was mentored by a guy a while back to keep me out of trouble after my dad died, and I hated him. I thought he was such a jerk. Then one day, I saw him fall apart at his desk. After that, he didn't seem so terrible. He seemed like a regular guy trying to make a difference," Owen explained, "Besides, I'm sure he wouldn't want to lose you either. Maybe he thinks you hate him."

"I don't," Thad blurted out, but he understood what Owen meant. "But if I tell him about that, I'll have to tell him how I put in the applications for us to be roommates."

"He'll get over it, but I'd open with that. Bart's got a pretty short attention span," Owen replied. Thad nodded.

"Are you gonna be here for a while?" Thad questioned. Owen nodded. "I'm gonna race Bart this morning..."

"Why?" Owen asked. Thad shrank down and pulled his hood up.

"Swear you won't laugh," Thad commanded in a feeble voice.

Owen punched him in the shoulder playfully. "On my life," he answered gently.

"I wanted him to show me how to play rugby. I didn't wanna tell you that I don't know how to play because I wanted to hang out with you," Thad confessed.

"I kinda figured you didn't know what rugby was... The thing is, I don't care what we do this week. I just wanted to hang out with you," Owen revealed. As the sun rose, they heard the loud snapping noise of skateboard wheels rolling over the cracks on the sidewalk.

"Bart's here," Thad whispered. Owen offered to hold Thad's jacket for him until he got back.

He watched as Thad rushed down the bleachers to the track and met with Bart. They exchanged words, and Thad pointed up at Owen. Bart waved, and Owen waved back. "Can you tell us when?" Bart yelled.

"Let me know when you're ready!" Owen yelled as he took his duffel and Thad's jacket down to the benches by the track. Bart and Thad stretched and took their marks. Thad looked serious, but Bart seemed beside himself with joy. "Well, you're already on your marks," Owen joked, "Get set... Go!"

The twins took off with a sprint, and Owen sat down on the benches. He took out his phone and videotaped the race, which worked out in everyone's favor because it was close. Bart won by a hair, but Bart didn't stop to see who won before embracing Thad. He picked him up and swung him around. Owen scratched his head and chuckled to himself.

Bart let Thad go, and Thad dusted himself off. He said something to Bart, and they waved Owen over. He walked over to the twins, and Thad invited him to breakfast. "Do you have morning classes today?" Thad asked.

"No, I was just here to watch the sun come up," Owen answered. They walked to the Big Belly Burger together, and the girl from the night shift was back at the register. "Hey, Thad, that's the girl from the other night." He gave Thad a gentle shove forward. "Go talk to her."

Thad approached the register, and the girl smiled at him. "I like your hair," she whispered.

"Oh, I was gonna fix it-."

"Don't," she whispered, "I'm Deb."

"Thad," Thad whispered. Deb smiled at him.

"Can I take your order?" Deb asked. Thad ordered breakfast, and she wrote her number on the back of the receipt. "Maybe I could spike it for you sometime."

"Huh?" Thad asked.

"Your hair," Deb clarified. She gave him three cups, and Thad chuckled and nodded on his way to the table. Owen nudged him, and his face reddened. He took the receipt and put her number into his phone before sending a text message. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and smiled.

Bart took two cups to fill up with soda, and Thad sat up as if he'd just remembered something. "My mom plays cards twice a month. Once with me and once with Bart... My mom wanted me to ask if you wanted to join us this weekend? It's an open thing-."

"Yeah, okay," Owen answered without thinking. He took a sip of his soda and immediately changed the subject. "You should ask that girl out."

"Yeah?" Thad asked. Owen took another sip of soda and nodded.

"What'd she say to you?" Owen questioned.

"She said she liked my hair," Thad whispered. Owen smiled. "I guess it's not that bad." Thad pulled at his bangs, and Owen chuckled.

Bart sat back down and brought their food over. He had a hashbrown in his mouth. Thad took the bag and chuckled. Bart and Thad didn't say much to one another. Owen didn't mind, though. He could tell they were getting along. "There's a party Friday night," Owen announced, "We should all go."

Thad looked at Bart. "Sounds good to me," Bart replied.

"Okay, I'm game," Thad agreed. Owen smiled and snapped a picture of them. Bart went back to eating, and Thad reached for Owen's phone. "Here, let's get one good one." The three of them pulled in and took pictures together. Owen sent them to his brothers, and he saved one of the pictures as his home screen.

[merlinsbudgiesmugglers]

Hey,

alright so I’m super obsessed with the way you write Tedromeda. Everything from the characterization and the dialogue is simply AMAZING! I hope one day I’ll be able to write them good enough like you do 🥺

Also, for the kissing ask 👀 not sure if you are up for a challenge in combining two asks? (It’s ok if you choose one, no biggie!)

7) to shut them up.

46 or was it 47? 🤔) envy or jealousy

I hope you have a great day and know that your writing always makes my crappy day better!

Thank you so much!

I have already written Jealousy from both Ted and Andromeda's points of view, so I went with just number 7.

Shippy Kiss Asks

[Slightly NSFW so putting this some of this one under the cut.]

Andromeda loved going to the cinema ever since the first time Ted had taken her to the small movie theatre near their first flat. She adored it when they were showing older films, the glamour of classic movie stars, Audrey Hepburn, Deborah Kerr, Grace Kelly. Love stories played out on screen in sweeping landscapes to rousing scores.

Ted liked action.

Ted liked guns and explosions, and the good guys winning the day.

They could never agree on which movie to see, so they took turns choosing on their rare nights out, and unfortunately, this time was Ted’s turn.

And he hadn’t stopped talking about it since.

All through the walk home, getting ready for bed, up the next morning, getting Dora ready for the day. Thankfully he went to work, or she just might have strangled him.

She still might. Because apparently, he’d spent all day at work thinking about it and had even more to say.

While they were making dinner together, ‘What a way to open a movie…’

Bathing Dora and putting her to bed, ‘A young boy finding out about powers he never knew he had…’

While they were in bed and she was trying to read, ‘...and talk about world building…’

Andromeda tried everything to get him to stop talking about it, agreeing with him, humming in vague interest, all out asking him to be quiet and let her enjoy her book in peace (admittedly, he did fall silent at that for a while, until he had another thought about lightsabers).

‘...and it doesn’t talk down to the viewer at all.’ Fed up, Andromeda closed her book, sitting up to look at him properly, ‘It’s like we were watching a movie made for someone in…’ Ted trailed off as she rolled over, straddling him as she pulled her nightgown off over her head, ‘...uh,’ 

‘Oh good,’ she mused, running her hands over his bare chest, ‘you can concentrate on something other than that stupid film.’

‘S’a good movie,’ he mumbled, but it faded into a moan as she ground against him, her lips finding the sensitive spot on his neck. His hand found her arse, and he rolled them over, his hips pressing her into the bed. ‘I thought you’d like it, poor boy helping to rescue the princess. It’s a good story.’ 

She would have rolled her eyes if he wasn’t doing such wicked things with his fingers. Instead, she took his face in her hands so his mouth could be put to better uses and kissed him deeply.

Because, though she’d never admit it to him, the poor boy helping to rescue the princess was a good story.

Even if Han Solo was far sexier.

[anghraine]

I just posted the background for my current GW2 fic here. The short version: it's an AU of my previous GW2 fic and has a different person as Hero of Shaemoor, but the previous Hero still exists in this universe, but also everything is presented as if it were new. I'm not posting at AO3 until I've made more progress, but what I have managed to piece together is burning a hole in my pocket, so I'm posting an excerpt here.

(And yes, I know that "AU of my AU for a game few of you play" is of extremely limited interest.)

So, here goes:

Gwen knew the Seraph would come for her one day. She didn’t think about it too much. It was easier not to, especially after her fool of a sister went and joined up with them. Gwen and Deborah screamed at each other for an hour that day, until Deborah stormed off to her new Seraph friends and Gwen slipped away to help plan the Bloodcrows’ next heist. Gwen felt sure she’d made the better choice, whatever Deborah said about stealing from innocent people on Manor Hill. Innocent nobles, hah! In the year after that last fight with Deborah, Gwen came to regret many things about joining the Bloodcrow bandits—but robbing nobles was not one of them. It wasn’t even hard. The way their gazes flitted past the struggling poor of Kryta and their own overworked servants, she only needed a touch of magic to get away with everything. So she’d always known it wouldn’t be the aristocracy who tracked her down, and it wouldn’t be their toadies in the Ministry Guard. If anyone found her, it’d be the Seraph. And most people did get found out sooner or later. It’d happen, eventually. But she was still young, only twenty, and eventually wasn’t today. Until it was.

In fact, a Seraph soldier showed up not long after Gwen’s twenty-first birthday. At least she had a roof over her head at that point, so she got the dignity of a knock at the door.

Nobody else was home at the time, and she hadn’t expected anyone to show up. Helen and Alice, her housemates, were Bloodcrows as well and off running errands for Shadow Jack. Quinn, who slept on their floor on cold or rainy nights, was undoubtedly talking some poor sap out of their money. Gwen hesitated, trying to guess who would come here at sunrise. Had she gotten on the wrong side of Shadow Jack somehow? Had some overzealous Seraph connected her to the Manor Hill thefts or any of their other operations? Or maybe it was Quinn with some new harebrained scheme he wanted to let her in on or some desperate need for money.

Another knock came at the door, louder. But the voice that followed it was incongruously tremulous.

“Hello? Please open the door—I mean, open up! This is the Seraph!”

Well, that answered that. And the major downside of this place was a lack of back doors or windows. Escape would be difficult, and maybe more deadly than pretending to go along with whatever they’d managed to figure out. After all, she’d never met a problem she couldn’t outwit or blast into oblivion. Gwen paused just long enough to weigh her chances, then strode over to the door and opened it.

A young man stood there, fidgeting in his Seraph armor as he studied a crumpled sheet of paper. It didn’t look like a warrant.

He looked up. “Miss Velazquez?”

She’d gone by Rosa Carr for the entire ten months she’d lived here, and as far as she knew, no one but the Bloodcrows had any reason to guess at her real name. By reflex, Gwen’s mouth curved into a smile.

“Can I help you, sir?” she said.

“I’m here on behalf of—of Sergeant Deborah Velazquez,” said the Seraph.

So, Deborah was sending lackeys to deliver her lectures now? She’d certainly come up in the world. Morbidly, Gwen wondered if Debs’s new friends knew she’d been living on the streets and surviving with bandits until the Seraph caught her in their net.

Still, it was nearly a year and a half since their last fight, the big one—not that she was counting—and Gwen hadn’t heard a word out of Deborah since then. Even a message from a lackey was odd. And he looked utterly miserable at delivering whatever it was Deborah had to say. Maybe worse than miserable. Something strange was going on here.

“You are her sister, aren’t you?” he pressed.

“Yes. What does she want to tell me?” Gwen asked.

“Nothing, ma’am,” he said unhappily.

Her brows rose.

“I’m sorry, I’m not doing this well. You’ll get a proper letter,” said the Seraph, “but Captain Tervelan wanted the families to know about the ambush before the town crier does.”

Gwen’s fingers went cold.

“The ambush?” she repeated.

A trick, she thought. It had to be. Some trap—they did know what she was up to, and—

“Centaurs ambushed Sergeant Velazquez’s company earlier today,” said the Seraph, blinking rapidly. “Nobody saw it coming. I’m afraid Falcon Company was wiped out in the attack.”

She felt oddly distant. “My sister is dead?”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

Deborah, strong and golden, dead? The idea seemed almost ludicrous. But the Seraph had put together the resources to track down Gwen within the day. Deborah must have listed her as her next of kin, despite everything.

“Am I needed to identify anything?” said Gwen.

“No, ma’am,” he said. “The ambush was—it wasn’t really possible to—” He winced and stopped talking.

It was enough for her to guess the rest. Apparently it hadn’t been enough for the centaurs to kill Deborah and her fellow soldiers; she must have been butchered beyond recognition. Gwen had good nerves, but she nearly shuddered, swallowing the impulse to gag, maybe vomit her breakfast onto the Seraph’s shining boots.

No matter how distant they’d become, Gwen would never—never—have wished this end on Deborah. And once, things had been different. She hadn’t thought of it in a long time, but now she almost felt Deborah’s larger hand closing about her own as their grandfather’s landlord pushed them out into the street. Gwen had been frightened, but Deborah tightened her grasp and led her away, into a cool, shadowy corner where Gwen could eat the last apple Granddad had bought. Or maybe Debs had just stolen it; Gwen didn’t remember any more. Just the noise of the city, and the taste of the apple, and Deborah’s hand.

“I see,” she said. “Is there anything else for me to do?”

“No,” said the Seraph, his wince just short of cringing. “We wanted the families to receive the news officially, that’s all. I’m very sorry, Miss Velazquez.”

So am I. More than you can imagine.

She barely hung onto her composure, but barely was enough.

“Thank you,” said Gwen, producing a faint, sad smile. “May Grenth have mercy on their souls.”

“May he indeed,” the Seraph replied.

He gave a slight bow, not appearing to notice anything suspicious about the narrow room behind her, then placed his helmet back on his head and marched away—onto the next grieving family member, Gwen supposed. Once he turned the corner and strode out of sight, her smile vanished and she turned back into the house, closing and locking the door behind her.

It took two tries to get the locking mechanism right. She needed steady hands in her work, but she couldn’t get them to stop shaking.

[hillbilly---man]

ok late night complaining post and then I'll go to bed

(I'm not sure how to tag or if y'all need me to warn for this, but this post is about giving myself shots)

I started this new medicine today that's an injectable and I'm pretty sure the auto-injector pen malfunctioned or something because I had to press super hard to get it to activate and also I'm pretty sure none of the medicine actually went in (I've already messaged the pharmacist so I'm not worried about the missed dose or anything)

But I went to a Facebook group of people taking the same med to ask if they've experienced the same thing and if it's supposed to be more difficult than other auto-injectors (because I've never had any problems with my other injectable med), or if it was defective

And every single comment I got was people assuming that I don't know anything about how these pens work. Like "well it's subcutaneous so it's not supposed to go in deep" or "sounds like you pulled it out of your skin before it finished injecting the shot. Make sure you wait until after the second click" or asking me if I read the instructions or took the cap off or assuming I'm scared of the needle or something

I just wanna reply like... Deborah, I've been doing this for months. I think there's a good chance it's a malfunction and not just because I'm a dumbass

I know it's totally on them and it's their fault they can't pay attention to a post before responding (and that they're trying to be genuinely helpful) but it feels like they're being really condescending and treating me like I'm stupid and it feels really shitty that I'm this sensitive to that

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 Hurricane Bianca : More Family, More Problems, Chapter 3 - BiancaDelRioIsTheBest 

A/N : TW for home invasion

After the school day ended Richard picked Demitri up from the middle school and told him about all the information they needed before they could actually acquire a foster kid. "Ебена мать!". Demitri whispered. "This is going to be more difficult than expected". Richard stated. "Do not worry, we will get all of this done and soon new child will be safe in home we own". Demitri stated cheerfully.

Meanwhile when Carly showed up at her house she noticed the door was cracked open slightly, that door was locked when she left, meaning someone had possibly been in her house. She went inside and looked around her house to make sure no one was hiding anywhere. There was nothing broken or missing so it wasn't a theft. She never found anyone yet her mom was hiding in the backyard of the house. Carly went to her room, packed a suit case, and left the house, she didn't feel safe staying there with the possible of someone being able to get into her house.

When Richard got the call from Carly that someone had broken into her house he was immediately concerned. "Really, well are you ok". He asked. "Yeah, it happened when I was at the school". Carly explained. "Well, where are you now". Richard then asked. "I'm on my way to Karma's right now". Carly responded. "Do you have any idea of who could've broken in, I mean there's not many people who live near you". Richard tried to rationalize. "Well, I dont really know anyone who would feel the need to break in, anyway, I'm getting close to Karma's house, I'll call you back". Carly ended the call.

Anyway the next day when Richard went to the school he got the chance to talk to Carly. "I just can't feel safe in that house knowing someone was able to get into it so easily". Carly explained. "Well how did they break in, did they go through the window or something". Richard asked. "No, there was no broken glass or anything, I'm gonna have to call the cops in order to find out how the person got in". Carly answered. "Well, if nothing was stolen, then maybe you have nothing to worry about". Richard said trying to lighten up the situation. "Hopefully so, I just hope this ends quickly". Carly said.

Meanwhile in Demitri's class it was very clear Olympia was not in a happy mood. He had heard from other teachers that she had been very irritable during the rest of her classes and his class was no different. The students seemed to steer clear of her as she seemed ready to snap at anyone who said as much as hello to her. She even snap at him at one point. When she handed him her one of her class papers it seemed partially unfinished so he questioned it. "Are you sure you want to turn in like this?". He asked. "Yes, that's why I handed it to you". She snapped. "Alright, I was just making sure". Demitri responded.

Meanwhile after that day the police came to Carly's house everything remained relatively quiet, as Deborah had skipped to the local hotel. The police couldn't find any evidence of an actual break in, so they told her to move on from the issue. And Richard and Mitya were getting everything ready for for the new foster kid. Then Deborah had to rework her plan. Things were relatively calm. Until 3 months later when everything went to absolute shit.

Pride Challenge Points: 2881

[aquitainequeen]

The Events At Poroth Farm Read Along: June 11

Until August 20th, stay tuned for the unfolding of the terrible truth about The Events at Poroth Farm, by T.E.D Klein!

(This is where it starts getting good, everyone!)

***

Jeremy remarks upon the humidity of the area during the day, compounded with the chill at night. He spends most of the day finishing Melmoth the Wanderer by Charles Maturin, commenting on how it’s a book that wants the reader to hate and simply causes unconstructive rage, but still interesting and worth assigning to his class. Before dinner he then reads The White People by Arthur Machen and is immensely struck by the story:

‘the sections from the young girl’s notebook were…staggering. That air of paganism, the malevolent little faces peeping from the shadows, and those rites she can’t dare talk about […] it must be the most persuasive horror story ever written’. [1]

While walking to the farmhouse for dinner, the Poroths already having gone inside, and without really knowing the reason why, Jeremy climbs the old tree in the side yard and stands on a sturdy branch to make strange faces and gestures. ‘I must have looked like a madman’s shadow as I made signs to the wood and the moon.’ [2]

During dinner, Jeremy and Sarr get onto the usual topic of conversation: the cats, and the dead animals they keep bringing back from the woods or fields and leaving them on the porch, almost as an offering.

Once Jeremy leaves the Poroths to their television (deploring their taste in programs!) he conducts his nightly routine of hunting spiders with his extra powerful insect spray, meant for outdoor use only, and spraying his screens for good measure; trying to avoid killing moths and actively avoiding any slaughter of fireflies. Afterwards he sits in bed to read Algernon Blackwood's Ancient Sorceries and coming to dwell upon the Poroths’ seven cats, and all the numerous names they have for each of them. The only cat that doesn’t have multiple names is Bwada, Sarr’s pet from before he married Deborah; the oldest and by far the meanest of the cats, who’s bitten Deborah and guests in the past but thankfully appears to be afraid of Jeremy and keeps her distance.

Jeremy hears sounds from the farmhouse as the Poroths sing their devotions, and then there is silence. Jeremy plans to stay up and read a little more, when-

‘Something odd just happened. I’ve never heard anything like it. While writing for the past half hour I’ve been aware, if half consciously, of the crickets. Their regular chirping can be pretty soothing, like the sound of a well-tuned machine. But just a few seconds ago they seemed to miss a beat. They’d been singing along steadily, ever since the moon came up, and all of a sudden they just stopped for a beat – and then they began again, only they were out of rhythm for a moment or two, as if a hand had jarred the record or there’d been some kind of momentary break in the natural flow…’ [3]

While the insects sound normal enough once more, Jeremy decides to return to reading The Castle of Otranto in the hopes it will help him to fall asleep.

[1] The Events at Poroth Farm, by T.E.D. Klein, originally published in From Beyond the Dark, edited by Edward P. Berglund in December 1972; this edition found in The Cthulhu Mythos MEGAPACK ®: 40 Modern and Classic Lovecraftian Stories, Loc 2269 of 17308

[2] Ibid

[3] Ibid, Loc 2301 of 17308

(If you want to read along and delight in T.E.D. Klein’s magnificent novella, you can find it in American Supernatural Tales (Penguin Classics) or The Cthulhu Mythos MEGAPACK ®: 40 Modern and Classic Lovecraftian Stories. If it turns out that I get a cease and desist from Klein et al, go and read the novella regardless!)

[ofcarnvge]

Unarmed

@annalis-e--shadowofpanem

Pan regretted the test in an instant. Once she had her second confirmation, and the first confirmation with witnesses, the Director’s private Boeing became her own personal tubular prison. Cereza and Amy, at odds only moments ago, were suddenly a united wall that kept Pan within the confines of the plane. She would not breathe fresh air or touch the ground until she was back home in Moonlight Palace. For her own good.

And to add insult to injury, O-Ren stole her bed. And she wasn’t even conscious to enjoy it. A single, minor annoyance and the luxury she could live without became an object of envy. The irony coaxed a chuckle out of Pan.

“Hey, Ishii,” she muttered. “I’m gonna be a mom.”

O-ren didn’t reply. She laid still, a grim reminder that Pan’s hopes at writing wrongs fell flat.

“I should have been there.”

Pan felt Lucky press against her shoulder, like an idea she couldn’t shake somehow made physical. “You couldn’t have known,” she said. “Weavings aren’t perfect.” She placed a hand on Pan’s shoulder, and the jasper bracelet fell around her wrist. “Not yet, anyway.”

Lucky’s words echoed like a soft voice in a vast cathedral, sending Pan’s mind down a certain path. They were, after all, her words.

Pan grabbed ahold of her phone. After a deep breath, she switched the network from her personal line to the private Shadow’s network. The device instantly flooded with hundreds of missed texts and voice message. But Pan had a singular focus, and she dialed a familiar number and pressed the device to her ear.

“Director??” Poor Deborah Marks. She sounded to so relieved.

“I’m sorry for the late hour Deborah,” Pan climbed out of her chair and faced the plane window. “I need a few favors from you.”

“Y-yes of course!” Pan could hear Debroah throwing her blankets aside, rummaging though her nightstand for a pen an pad. “Tell me what you need,” she said, clicking her pen. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“First, I’m going to write a letter that I need you to publish as a memorandum. It goes into detail about my disappearance and gives some instructions to the organization while I’m away. Second, I’m going to send you a toxicology report in the morning that I need you to forward to Ms. Upton--see if you can get a quick turnaround for any advice she might have. Just advice. I don’t wish to disturb her...or Molly. And finally, I need you to set up a direct line between myself and Cyanne, assuming she’s still quarantining herself.”

“She is.”

“Good. She has reason.  For now, everything involving the artifact is off limits. Quarantine the artifact and anyone else who may have come in contact with it.”

“If I recall, it’s just Cyanne, ma’am. She’s the only one that has broken protocol.”

“Don’t tell her.” Bowen clung to her mother’s arm. “It’s not time yet. If you tell her now, you’ll never get ahead of this,” She window showed her images of the stone, incinerated. Kingdoms crushing one another. Cyanne dying in the cold of the Pillbox, bleeding onto an improvised stone weapon...

Molly, abandoning Pan.

...Stillbirth.

A Weaving in a brilliant flash of images.

Bowen released Pan’s arm and stepped back. “I know there’s alot happening right now, but please. You have to trust me. There’s more to lose than just me and Lucky.”

Pan shuttered. The bracelet around her wrist felt cold and prickly against her skin. A bead of sweat fell from her brow and struck one of the bright red pebbles.

“Are you certain?” Pan spoke back into phone.

“We have every assurance from her team that Cyanne was the only one who made improper contact with the artifact.”

Pan nodded. “Good. Let’s keep it that way. Set up that direct line, first thing in the morning.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A sigh of relief flew from Bowen’s lips.

Pan continued. “When all that is done, try to call me. I don’t know the extend of our communications disruptions, but now that the phone is on the open network, you shouldn’t have any problem getting in touch.”

“About that--the informant, Amber, has confessed to the network breach a couple months ago, but maintains her innocence in regards to the ongoing outages. She says she’s looking into it, but there are a few who are convinced that hunting her down is the right move to make.

“They have no proof,” Pan shook her head. “If anyone acts without my say so, send an operative to intercept and take Amber into protective custody.”

“Amber still wont disclose her location. She could be anywhere in Taiwan.”

“She’ll tell us if she needs to.”

“Anything else?”

“No. Thank you, Deborah. Go back to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you.”

Pan hung up. She looked up to find Bowen and Lucky had gone again. Once again, her hand found itself on her stomach.

Still flat. But somehow, full.

Minami watched Go go leave the apartment and sat there in the silence for a long while after the elevator had closed behind her strange new acquaintance. She’d been aware of O-ren’s status within the underworld. She had seen violence. But this felt different, expansive. On the way out of the apartment she paused by the bedroom door. The bed still held the mold, the memory of both of them. She prayed, maybe it was nearly over.

Within three hours Go go was on a flight, it would take eleven hours to touch down in Texas, most of which she slept through with the military ability of a person who understands exhaustion and energy conservation.

When she emerged from the plane it was like stepping into a wall of heat compared with the weather last night in Tokyo. She picked up a new set of clothes, black jeans and a fitted jacket and hired a bike. 

She was still running on that old instinct, a single minded, goal driven approach. But the undercurrent was different now. Speeding away from the airport she finally made a decision about her destination; the only two vipers in this part of the world were Elle and Budd, and it was unlikely O-ren would have pursued Budd first. Much like Vernita he’d been disengaged from the group for years. Fortunately, Elle had never made any habit of hiding her whereabouts.

Approaching the estate from the rear she pulled up about about a half mile away, locking the bike to a railing in a little neighborhood of pop up mansions. It was noon, and a man out mowing his sprinkler fed lawn gave the Japanese woman a look of curiosity as she pulled off her bike helmet, smiled politely at him, and vanished between the houses. 

The back wall of the estate was ten feet tall but Go go landed almost silently on her boots, stalking easily around the periphery and watching for any sound, any movement. Nothing. The patio door at the rear was unlocked and a distant sound drifted out from somewhere within the house. The former bodyguard listened intently. No voices, no footsteps. She moved toward it.

Reaching the door of the lounge Go go Yubari finally stopped in her tracks. The record kept turning. The floor was a pool of water and blood, fragments of broken tea cup and teapot scattered about.

And Bill. He was dead. Go go felt her breath catch in her throat. O-ren had done it. He looked so inert laying there. It was hard to envisage him as the legend his reputation demanded. It had always been a lie.

Go go lifted the record arm with a screech and silence fell in the house. Her eyes swept forensically over the scene. On a cursory inspection Bill looked to have been dead for maybe a day, give or take a number of hours. Long enough for Elle to return to her house to find him, but Elle wasn't here...neither was O-ren. She caught sight of the shirasaya laying in the pool of spilled tea, but did not pick it up; her gaze followed a drag trail of dried tea and blood that led out into the hall, and then stopped. Someone had been picked up. 

Someone else was involved, and it wasn't a long list of suspects anymore. 

The sharp ring of an antique telephone made Go go start. It was on a table in the lobby. She picked it up and pressed the receiver to her ear. The man on the other end began speaking immediately;

      “Elle, I know you don't fuckin’ like me but I need to tell you-”

      “Hello, Budd.” Go go responded, her Japanese accent making him fall wordless.

      “Who...Who the hell is that?”

For just a moment Go go’s tone fell into that deadly cadence it might have had a few years before.

      “I’m someone who’s going to give you one, one... chance to walk away from all of this. And I’ll do you a favour and tell you now; you should really take it...”