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batmanisagatewaydrug · 4 years

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Sorry if this is a weird question. It’s been awhile, but I think it was your blog that once posted about a list of adult books for YA readers? Did you ever finish that? I’ve pretty much read exclusively YA for years, but as an adult, I’d like to start exploring some books that aren’t about teenagers. Thanks! (And if it wasn’t you, then just ignore this.)

not a weird question, pretty normal question. I don’t know if such a book list could ever be finished, exactly, because more books just keep on coming and there are definitely some I will never know about that are no doubt fantastic, but I have posted two rec lists, which I’ll copy paste here for your viewing pleasure:

The Beautiful Ones (Silvia Moreno-Garcia) - absolutely BUCKWILD romance with a dash of telekinesis; nonstop high society drama and misunderstanding from start to finish, happy ending guaranteed. STRONGLY recommend if you, like me, are a basic bitch who enjoys a bit of Pride and Prejudice.

Binti (Nnedi Okorafor) - a math prodigy runs away from Earth to become the first of her people to attend a prestigious university in space, but shit gets real when a crew of hostile jellyfish aliens attack her ship.

Chilling Effect (Valerie Valdes) - a spaceship captain and her crew take on a series of convoluted missions in order to rescue the captain’s sister, who’s been frozen and held for ransom.

The City of Brass (S.A. Chakraborty) - an 18th century conwoman and a mysterious djinn team up to go looking for a legendary hidden city.

The City We Became (N.K. Jemisin) - a scrappy bunch of Chosen Ones have to band together to defend New York City (which is very much alive) from a huge ass monster.

The Empress of Forever (Max Gladstone) - a lady supervillain gets blasted into space and meets an even bigger, planet-destroying evil space empress. literally WHAT is not to like?

The Empress of Salt and Fortune (Nghi Vo) - high fantasy royal drama about a woman making her way to power in the wake of a political marriage that left without friends or allies.

Escaping Exodus (Nicky Drayden) - a space-faring clan are creating their latest spaceship from the insides of a giant monster when absolutely everything goes to shit (as things are wont to do in science fiction stories).

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars (Kai Cheng Thom) - a trans girl runs away to the big city, where she uses her martial arts skills to team up with other trans woman and form a vigilante gang to defend their own when police look the other way. a fascinating blend of poetry and prose and magical realism.

Finna (Nino Cipri) - two exes working at an IKEA have to team up to save a customer who disappeared through one of those interdimensional portals that all IKEAs have laying around. you know how it is.

Gideon the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir) - come on, you’ve heard about this one. it’s the one with the lesbian space necromancers? yeah, that’s the one. you got it.

In the Vanishers’ Palace (Aliette de Bodard) - a Beauty and the Beast retelling based in science fiction and Vietnamese fantasy, featuring a young woman falling in love with a “beast” who’s actually a motherly dragon after becoming a tutor to the dragon’s two powerful children.

Jade City (Fonda Lee) - urban fantasy gang wars, pitting one magically enhanced family against rivals and a new drug that lets anyone mimic their abilities.

The Library of the Unwritten (A.J. Hackwith) - hell’s librarian gets sent on a quest to find a runaway soul.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Becky Chambers) - aka one of my favorite books ever, essentially slice of life science fiction following an interspecies crew of deep space truckers making the longest and most complicated delivery of their lives. very warm and fuzzy.

Mort (Terry Pratchett) - one of many MANY Discworld books, but a very good one to start with, following the adventures of a boy named Mort after he’s taken on as Death’s apprentice. you know, like the Grim Reaper? that Death.

River of Teeth (Sarah Gailey) - historical AU in which the United States imported and domesticated hippos in the Mississippi River; follows a crew of hippo-riding crooks and hooligans as they plan one heck of a caper.

Space Opera (Catherynne Valente) - a washed up rock star and his old bandmate get roped into performing in an intergalactic singing competition that will determine the fate of the entire planet Earth. full of aliens, attempted assassination, art, and emotional turmoil.

This Is How You Lose the Time War (Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone) - time-travelling assassins from rival factions fall in love in a poetic and breathless story that spans centuries and reality.

Under the Pendulum Sun (Jeannette Ng) - fairyland is real, and Victorian England is sending missionaries. a woman and her brother attempt to bring the good word to the fair folk, but start to suspect the queen might just be screwing with their heads. PEAK gothic horror with a creepy fairy twist.

Witchmark (C.L. Polk) - a doctor and former soldier with magical powers of healing is trying to live a quiet life and avoid his controlling, aristocratic family’s plans for him, only to get tangled up in a massive political conspiracy when one of his patients mysterious dies. accompanying him in his investigation is a mysterious and gorgeous faerie man. romance ensues.

(this second part is a list I made specifically focused on trans authors)

The Black Tides of Heaven (J.Y. Yang) - twins with Powers rebel against their politically powerful mother, hell yeah

The City in the Middle of the Night (Charlie Jane Anders) - dystopia sci-fi where The Government is controlling a city’s passage of time and light. sounds like somebody should overthrow that…

Confessions of the Fox (Jordy Rosenberg) - I haven’t read every book on these lists, including this one, but it’s described as “a mind-bending romp through a gender-fluid, 18th-century London” and I personally would love to read that.

The Deep (Rivers Solomon) - mermaids are descended from women who jumped overboard from African slave ships, and one carries the memories of all their collective trauma. what will happen when she decides to explore the surface?

Docile (K.M. Sparza) - sci-f m/m romance story about autonomy and criticizing capitalism; what’s better than that?

The Future of Another Timeline (Annalee Newitz) - murder! time travel! queer ladies! idk, what else do you need?

Freshwater (Akwake Emezi) - a twisty little story about mental illness and being possessed by a god; magical realism ensues.

The Merry Spinster (Daniel M. Lavery, published under the name Mallory Ortberg) - a collection of short stories drawing inspiration from classic fairy tales, Biblical mythology, and more recent works. the way Lavery reimagines “The Velveteen Rabbit” is one of the creepiest things I’ve ever read, and also one of my favorite short stories.

Ninefox Gambit (Yoon Ha Lee) - you like big ol’ dramatic space operas? I’ve got one for you right here!

#queenofseelie

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kootenaygoon · 4 years

Photo

So,

Niles was on crutches, watering his garden.

It was late Tuesday afternoon, and we’d just put the Wednesday edition of the Star to bed. Despite the fact it was mid-October, the weather was still summery, with a light wind rustling its way up the valley. The Slocan River had a magical sheen in the distance as my RAV broke out of the trees. Brutus was running laps of the yard with a dog I didn’t recognize, too busy to bark at my arrival, so I followed the driveway around to the barn unmolested and parked beside a mud-spattered, half-deconstructed Jeep. Niles had invited me over to discuss his latest manuscript submission, which was over 100,000 words long. It sat hefty and dog-eared on my passenger seat, riddled with highlighter and scribbled notes, alongside a six-pack of Blue Buck. I wasn’t looking forward to this feedback session, because I wasn’t sure if he was mature enough to hear what I had to say.

“We’ve got the house to ourselves tonight, Goon. I’ve got the second season of Fargo queued up, plus I’ve acquired some fabulous Afghani Kush that will blow your hair back,” Niles said, his crutches squelching in the mud as he clopped over to my side door.

I lifted up his manuscript, which was called The Fox and the Fawn. “Did you forget about this?”

Since my arrival in Nelson I’d been keeping a small roster of three to five students, helping them develop everything from a fictional account of the Rwandan genocide to a fantasy novel about an autistic teen adventuring through an alternate dimension. The trouble was, I was starting to feel like an imposter. My repeated attempts at finishing Whatever you’re on, I want some hadn’t resulted in the fame and glory I was imagining, and now I was wondering if I’d been kidding myself this whole time. Yeah, I had my Master’s, but so what? Could I really be a writer? And if not, was I really worthy of being a teacher? Who was I kidding?

“I figured you would’ve burned that thing the moment you realized what a gargantuan turd it is,” Niles said, his blond hair hanging limply around his dishevelled face. He wasn’t looking healthy.

I climbed out and shut the door. “I read some of it to my new roommate Mika, actually. We had a little reading in my living room.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, she wanted to hear the sex scene.”

Niles roared with delight. That’s what he was always looking for, an audience to the lewd reality of his existence. As far as he was concerned, he was the best kind of criminal — the kind that never gets caught. The Fox and the Fawn was a fangirl tribute to himself, to his gangster exploits as a Slocan Valley weed king. With legalization finally here, he felt it was time to tell his story. The manuscript was Bukowski mixed with Kerouac, demented and perverse and shockingly violent. At one point he even casually admits to date rape, including a scene where his girlfriend rages at him for taking advantage of her while he was drunk.

“I didn’t know you had a new roommate,” he said. “What happened to Brendan?”

“Nothing. I just found a new place, levelled up. Teamed up with this girl Mika who works at my pot dispensary. She’s got a pet rabbit.”

“You’re still getting your shit from there? Why aren’t you coming to me?”

Niles was wearing a brown bathrobe. He opened his front door, told me not to worry about my shoes, then handed me the crutches while he hopped on one foot up the carpeted staircase. He grunted and sighed with each step, muttering swear words under his breath. I’d never seen him like this. When we reached the top I gave him his crutches and the beer, and he motioned for me to take a seat in the living room. As I passed by the familiar John Cooper paintings, I noticed that he’d hung the self-portrait I’d given him as a present a month earlier. I’d painted it with Natalya.

“You hung my painting upside down?”

He laughed, opening the fridge. “Yeah, I dunno why I did that. Just seemed to me like it looks better that way. I get a kick out of it.”

I shook my head. For the past month I’d been painting furiously, and it felt like a swirling green portal had opened up inside my brain. My writing may have stalled, but this was a way to channel my creativity into something other than journalism. I was getting sick of the Star, getting sick of taking the same pictures of the same fundraiser events, getting sick of the constraints. My relationship with Ed and Kai was strained too, as they were tired of my entitled laziness. Maybe they knew I was stoned every day, slumping into the office uninspired and half-assing my stories. I felt like the universe was wasting me, but painting had become a soothing therapy, something I did exclusively for myself. I was giving myself permission to be sloppy and flamboyant and outrageous, slathering my canvases with dribbling glitter and chaotic streaks of inspiration. This painting I’d given Niles was my first.

As he banged around in the kitchen, I walked over to the living room window and looked out at the Slocan Valley. The trees were the colour of flames, red and orange and electric yellow, and they matched the darkening sky. Lately I’d been feeling a subtle dread, like the magic was slowly draining from my surroundings. Winter is coming. I hated being single, hated being a chronic stoner, and hated how much of my life I spent stressing out about money. In university I’d become so convinced that I had life sorted out, that I was on a consistently upwards trajectory, that it was only a matter of time before I would be rewarded with creative success and lifelong fulfillment. Now I wasn’t so sure. It was easy to blame Paisley and all the drama she’d brought to my life, but she’d been gone for over a year now. At some point I would have to address my own shit without using her as a scapegoat.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, man.”

Niles scuffed back into the living room holding our beers. “This?”

“The Kootenays. The Star. I got into a bit of a scrap with Kai and Ed today, in the newsroom,” I said. “Over our coverage of Me Too.”

He laughed, sinking into his recliner. “You’re too radical for them?”

I shook my head, crossed to the couch. “I’ve just been seeing all these posts, right? Women sharing their trauma, men self-flagellating, but the discourse isn’t actually going anywhere. It’s not actually accomplishing anything. But I wanted to do something tangible, so I interviewed the superintendent and a bunch of principals about how they’re responding to it. Just to get it official, on the record, how they plan to change things.”

He snorted. “I’m sure they loved that.”

“So I hand in this 1200-word behemoth of a story, with all these different angles and perspectives, and they told me it didn’t have any teeth. They said it’s just a bunch of talking heads. I tried to argue, you know, that it’s important to be holding these people accountable and that their words are powerful, but they weren’t hearing it. They said if I’m going to write a story about sexual assault then I need a real sexual assault.”

He frowned, shrugged. “So what’re you going to do?”

I felt myself getting worked up. For the past few days I’d been endlessly scrolling through Twitter and Facebook, feeding on the outrage and vitriol. It was bringing everything up, Trent and Galloway and my strange obsession with crucifixion. The topic of sexual violence was like an intricate bomb I was trying to defuse with nothing but a screwdriver. As far as I was concerned, the conversation had to move beyond the rage to solutions. Men had to own their complicity, with more than just empty words, and propose tangible solutions. I was determined to prove Kai and Ed wrong, to show that my journalism had real teeth.

“Well, I’ve already started writing a column about it. About my personal feelings on the subject. And I’m going to illustrate it with a picture of my face with the words ‘Part of the Problem’ scrawled across my forehead.”

Niles laughed. “That should piss off the right people.”

“Not only that, I’ve found two girls who are willing to go on record about their assaults. One who was a student at Elephant Mountain Secondary, and the other from Selkirk College. If I do this right, this could be the most powerful story I’ve written since coming to the Star. Like, I think it could be a really big deal.”

“Well, Goon,” he said. “I think your saviour complex is alive and kicking.”

Eventually we pivoted to discussing his manuscript, and I flipped through it on the coffee table as I took him through my notes. All of his female characters came off as interchangeable, he had a tendency to summarize scenes rather than depict them, and by the end of the narrative he came off as completely unlikeable. Being self-deprecating is one thing, but it was like he was going out of his way to shock the reader with his shitty behaviour. It felt like he was daring his audience to hate him. At times it reminded me of the memoir A Crowbar in the Buddhist Garden, by Stephen Reid, so I recommended he check it out for inspiration. I felt Reid struck a fine balance between owning his mistakes and aspiring to be a better human being.

“That’s the bank robber?”

“Yeah, they made a movie about him. Point Break.”

“That surfer movie with Keanu Reeves?”

“I think they fictionalized it a bit. The point is, there’s a guy who has actually grappled with his own soul. That takes balls.”

He nodded. “A Crowbar in the Buddhist Garden. I like that.”

Once we were finished with notes, Niles padded off into his bedroom and returned with an elaborate dragon-themed bong. As we smoked together I thought of the caterpillar from the animated version of Alice in Wonderland, asking in his condescending tone “Who are you?” That was the sort of question that was getting harder to answer all the time. Thinking about rape culture all day had me hating myself to the point where I felt physically sick, but at other times I was convinced of my own prophethood, my special destiny to save the world somehow. If I could tackle this Me Too story from exactly the right angle I knew it could have a legit impact. Everyone was encouraging women to speak while men listen, but I had been listening. And now I had something to say. I leaned back in the couch and examined the light fixture in the ceiling, composing my column in my head.

“Here,” Niles said. “You want another hit?”

The Kootenay Goon

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anonthenullifier · 7 years

Text

An Auspice of Scarlet

Title: An Auspice of Scarlet

Treat for: @atendrilofscarlet

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5.6k

Prompt: A Scarlet Vision Victorian AU

Chapter: 1/?

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184758/chapters/27661812

Summary: After another failed seance, Wanda Maximoff finds herself seeking asylum from an unknown millionaire and his reserved, but kind butler. As with most things in her life, it's when the semblance of normalcy and contentment begin to form that her past comes crashing in to upend everything she's worked hard to form. Will the blossom of love be enough to vanquish the demons of her past?

Note: Anya - This is my gift to you in thanks for all of the hard work you put in to organizing the Scarlet Vision Exchange. I don't think anyone realizes just how much work it was to take this on and how amazing it is that things went as smoothly as they did. It was my honor to help you where I could and my delight to see all of the amazing Scarlet Vision works that came from the exchange. You are an amazing and wonderful person that I have enjoyed getting to know through our mutual love of Scarlet Vision. Since you put in so much work, as you are aware because I can't keep secrets, I decided to finally fulfill your request (that you made way way long ago, tried to find it but we have had too many conversations on too many stories to locate it easily) to write a Victorian AU of Scarlet Vision. This is against my better judgment, seeing as I am not an AU writer, but because it's for you, I'll deal with it :). I thought having to write the comic book versions of Wanda and Vision was out of my depth, but this story so far has made me feel like a shark stranded in the middle of the Sahara. So I hope you enjoy this and that it is everything you were hoping for with this AU. I don't know how long it will be, but I promise that I will fill it with as much melodramatic romance and angst, secrets and sordid pasts, misunderstandings and dramatic reconciliations in the rain as possible.

I hope you all enjoy!

Written for @scarletvisionexchange2017

The man holding her hand is trembling, a sickening claminess developing between their palms the longer she feeds the thickening, anticipatory silence. All Wanda wants to do is take her hand back, pack up her things, and eat dinner, but the lack of money to afford food dictates she continue. A deep, well-practiced hum builds in her chest, vibrating up her esophagus before it escapes her lips. There is a gasp in front of her, Harriet, the youngest of the five daughters at the table, no doubt (since she has been gasping about every three seconds), but at least she is receptive and so Wanda tentatively reaches out to her mind.

Despite spending the past three months working exclusively like this, Wanda is still disoriented when touching a mind that is not Pietro’s, the thorn of his name stabbing her heart, wrestling all air from her lungs. She pushes back the pain, the memories, the horror of his loss and instead caresses the surface of Harriet’s mind, searching for something to pull out. A cursory examination reveals only a recently deceased pet, which will have to do. “I believe my spirit guide has arrived.” A flick of Wanda’s finger sends a tendril of scarlet rapping against the underside of the table.

“Oh,” the table shakes as Harriet pounds her feet excitedly on the ground, “What does it look like?”

Wanda breathes in, memorizing the image from Harriet’s mind before pulling her powers out, “A white dog, with well-groomed fur, and a cerulean vest.” Another gasp from across the table is joined by a harumph from Mr. Clammy Hands. “It is informing me its name is Buttons.”

A reminiscent sigh of “My poor poor Buttons” fills the room, allowing enough distraction for Wanda to move on to her next target. An invisible pulse of power shoots into the husband’s head, twisting through his judgmental disregard of her abilities and Wanda has to ignore the ire curled tightly around his thoughts about how much he dislikes having this woman in their home.

“Buttons is running away,” a pained No and a stern Quiet, Harriet, barely register as Wanda delves deeper into the man’s memories, searching for something useful. “He is running towards a figure,” she pauses, trying to remember the advice from the seminar led by the Fox Sisters: give them drama, give them suspense, heightened emotion means heightened gullibility. Wanda drops her voice, emphasizing her accent as she announces: “It is a woman.” The image in the man’s mind clarifies and she can make out every wrinkle on the face, the perennially stray wisp of hair sticking out of the tightly coiled bun that likely horrified such a poised woman, and the intense, hawkish gaze. “She is old.”

A quiet, mournful, “Grandmama…” comes from across the table.

“Harriet,” the connection between their hands break as the girl’s father scolds her, “That is exactly what this…” Wanda parts her eyes enough to watch him gesticulate at her, his voice perfectly conveying his disgust at being a part of this seance, “skilamalink* woman wants.”

The Fox Sisters also emphasized the importance of rearing in the disbelievers, muffling their arguments as efficiently and tersely as possible. They suggested kicking their shin, but Wanda always tries to go for shock, figuring that she should save physical actions for a last-ditch effort. “The spirit has a message for you, Mr. Smith.”

She doesn’t have to watch him to feel the roll of his eyes and the impudence that clings to every movement of his sweaty palms. “Oh, I am sure she does, something about live a long, healthy life of prosperity, and how terribly she misses me and her morning cup of tea on the porch. You are all the same, just-.”

Wanda cuts him off, clenching her fist to grasp the memory firmly, attempting to match her voice to the stern cadence in his mind. “She says to go to the cellar and shove wool in your mouth for misbehaving, Willy.”

Suddenly the room chills, the man motionless, his surprise potent enough to quiet the women surrounding the table. Wanda, for a split second, thinks she might actually have conjured a spirit, until the screech of a chair being pushed back and the thud as it's thrown to the ground causes her to open her eyes to a red face gleaning with sweat, the drops jumping from his mustache into the air as he trembles. “Witch!”

A cacophony fills the room as Harriet screams, falling to the ground, and her sisters join her, crouching low, but Wanda is only focused on Mr. Smith, fingers curling into her palm, her nails digging into her skin, falling into the groove of her long ago acquired scars, horrified at how easily this man rips the red satin cloth from the table, throwing her candles, crystals, and gems onto the floor. All she can seem to think about, as she watches him crumple the cloth, struggle to rip its seams, is how much money this is going to cost if she can’t get it all back. Mr. Smith points an angry, accusatory finger at her, yelling “Witch!” once more before he stalks out of the house.

Wanda looks to the missus for help, but the frizzy-haired woman is pale, could even be a standin for a spirit at a seance, if need be, giving off the impression of being strangled by her high-necked dress. Harriet is even less help, still laying on the ground, surrounded by her sisters who are giggling and fanning her with whatever objects are within reach. Wanda can see Mr. Smith moving outside, slamming his feet in a straight path towards the Hudson and she groans a, “Not again,” before running out of the house after him.

“Mr. Smith!” The futility of talking sense into him does not escape her, yet Wanda always attempts reason first in hopes that one day it will work. William continues his emotional stomp, the tablecloth trailing on the ground, stirring the dirt of the path. Wanda tilts her body forward, steps increasing in pace until she is jogging behind him. Once she catches up to Mr. Smith, she attempts to grab the cloth from him, but his grip is too strong, too fueled by his anger as he fumes, whispering (she can’t tell if it is too her or to the sky) about how easy it would be to reinvoke the witch trials because clearly the people of Salem were on to something.

Eventually another voice follows, a slightly more colored (though still quite pale) Mrs. Smith, with her dress carefully clutched in her hands, pleading “William put her stuff down, this is preposterous,” but he doesn’t. The houses along the path remain silent, though the curtains pull back to reveal curious, terrified faces and Wanda tries to gesture for help, pleading with the bystanders for someone to take pity on her, but each pane is instantly re-covered. “William, please.”

“My house will not suffer a witch.”

Wanda tries one more time to wiggle the cloth free from his hands, but to no avail, and so she re-attempts to reason with him even though she doesn't have to be a witch to foresee it won't have an impact, “I am not a witch.”

They stop, the shallow gulping of water mixing easily with his heavy breathing, and Wanda sighs as Mr. Smith squints at her, a growl developing in his voice as he says. “Then may your spirit guides save your wretched soul.” For the seventh time in the past two weeks she watches as her materials are unceremoniously thrown into the river and then, without another word, she is abandoned.

Wanda stands alone on the riverbank, hands hanging limply at her side, watching as the cloth soaks up the water and begins its descent into the murky depths. An exhausted, fed-up sigh falls from her mouth as she unlaces her boots, strips her stockings from her feet, and hitches her dress up with a thin rope she has learned to carry around just for this situation. Slowly she dips her foot into the water, a half grimace, half relieved smile warring on her face as she wades into the river to collect her materials. Thankfully the sun has not set yet and so the water is tepid, uncomfortable, but not hypothermic.

Even though the temperature of the water is in her favor, the current is not nor are the branches and roots nestled in the sand, catching the tablecloth firmly between a rock and a branch, unwilling to move even with some gentle witchy (she looks over her shoulder before doing this, just to be safe as she’d really prefer not to be known as the first to be burned in the new witch trials) encouragement. It’s only when she braces her feet on two rocks, bending her knees to lower her center of gravity, that she is able to pull hard enough to get the tablecloth loose, but the force of the pull is more than she had intended and it sends her falling backwards into the water. “I,” her hands flop down into the water with a defeated annoyance, “give up.”

Wanda remains sitting in the river, not certain how much time has passed as her thoughts run through the cost of the materials she lost from this seance, certain she will not be eagerly welcomed if she returns later to ask for her candles and gems back. More concerning is that there are only three more families left in the hamlet that she hasn’t contacted, but she’s reluctant to proffer her services, particularly since one is the local minister and his very pregnant wife. Perhaps it is time to move on, yet again. What she does not understand is that, unlike the Fox Sisters who urge vagueness and shifty answers, Wanda actually contacts spirits, well, not real spirits, but the memories of lost loved ones. She does not believe in spiritualism and mesmerism as they teach it because she knows it is all doctored, with wires shoved up sleeves to lift tables, and tin boxes tied to knees to make a rattling sound when a “spirit” enters. Wanda, unlike the rest, actually offers something real, something tangible, but it is as if people are eager to contact the dead until the dead actually respond.

“Pardon me.”

If there is one bright spot to her uncanny ability to be tossed from houses and end up contemplating her life choices in the river, it is that her schedule seems to coincide quite nicely with a handsome, albeit, overdressed gentleman. “Do you always pass by the river at five?”

He hesitates, mouth contorting in amusement as he steps down from the seat of the carriage, his three-piece black suit perfectly matching the black hat on his head and his black-gloved hand dipping into the pocket of his waistcoat to check the time. “Five seventeen, to be exact.”

“Oh well, sorry for my imprecision.”

“It is shameful,” she watches as he examines the ground, feet shuffling the grass from side to side, a curious yet predictable action as he searches for a fallen branch long enough to reach her, never willing to sully the pristine suit on his body by wading into the river. “I will,” his face brightens as he bends down, scooping up a branch and approaching the shore, “excuse your imprecision, however.”

Wanda rolls her eyes as she grips the branch, one well-practiced hoist lifting her to her feet and kickstarting her momentum out of the water. “Thank you.”

“Oh,” a bashful smile flirts with his lips as he drops the branch and waits for her to join him in walking towards the carriage, “you are most welcome.” They walk in silence, his eyes set on their destination, allowing her a brief moment’s glance at his face, the only chance she ever gets to parse out this mysterious man who is going to give her a towel, a sandwich, and then insist he must be going. Wherever he ends up, she is certain it is outdoors, his face tinged with red yet his clothing has to be insufferable in the oppressive June heat. “May I make an inquiry?”

Wanda’s feet halt as her head cocks to the side, taking in the nervous twitch in his shoulders as he grabs the towel and the slight scuffle of his feet as he waits for her to respond. Slowly she accepts the towel, hands acting on their own accord as they bring it to the tips of her hair, lazily blotting the water. “You don’t have to ask me if you can ask a question.”

The concept seems to confuse him, furrow forming between his blonde eyebrows, his gloved hands, now free of the towel, hovering in the air as he contemplates whether to respond to her or continue with the inquiry. Wanda finds her lips lifting at his indecision, about to offer her opinion but he finally chooses a path and forges ahead. “Have you considered a profession that might be,” his hands wave through the air as he attempts to extract the appropriate wording, “less prone to amphibious attacks?”

A small, self-deprecating chuckle falls from her lips, unsure how to answer a question she asks herself almost daily. “Unfortunately, for an unattached woman as myself, the only other options are to be a dressmaker in the city,” not to be confused with a seamstress who would actually fix dresses instead of spend her nights spread eagle on a bed, “or consign myself to servitude and I refuse to be owned by anyone.”

This is not the first time she has defended her decisions in life, but unlike the majority of audiences (mostly in taverns or along the road or on the decks of steamboats as she travels), he seems to actually listen to her words, weigh them, parse out the meaning and other possible options, and then accept what she says with a gentle, affirming nod. “Understandable.”

Though the word is said without judgment, there is an odd, reticent quality to his voice that causes her eyebrow to lift, eyes trained on his back as he swiftly turns away from her, no doubt reaching for her pickled herring sandwich. This is the first time they’ve spoken beyond concerned inquiries as to her well-being, and so, since he opened the line of communication she determines to pry a little deeper to learn more about this man. “What is your calling in life?”

“I am,” he swivels back around, holding a small, carefully wrapped sandwich between them, his face ostensibly serious and neutral, yet his eyes dart to the side as he answers her, “a butler.”

Embarrassment rushes to her cheeks, the fancy three-piece suit, well-planned schedule, and ability to always have on hand exactly what she needs suddenly coalescing into an impossible to deny framework of the ideal butler. “It is a,” it is not like her to save face, always unapologetic in her opinions and emotions, but this man has been far nicer to her than almost any person she has met since immigrating to the United States, far nicer, in fact, than the majority of people she has met since the death of her parents when she was ten, “noble profession.”

A tight smile forms on his face, her feigned admiration transparent, “It is, akin to your reasoning, far preferable than alternative options.” The man’s lips slip into an easier, more controlled and congenial tilt, pulling a slip of paper from a pocket inside the right breast of his jacket. Carefully he holds it out to her, an expectant lift to his eyebrows that encourages her to grab the sheet and unfold it, confusion bubbling in her chest at the evenly spaced, disciplined lines of the numbers and letters. “I have inquired with my,” he pauses, weighing the most appropriate word likely due to her admitted distaste of his lifestyle, “employer and he concurs of my assessment that his estate be available to you for your seances. Due to the distance from the river and the impartial atmosphere, I believe it would be a suitable and, quite arguably, safer location for your work. Please do not hesitate to utilize this offer, I,” his gaze shifts to the murky waves of the Hudson, the alcove nearest the town filled with pockets of green, slimy algae that frames the distant, passing steamboats and barges, “do not object to helping you from the river but would prefer if it was less frequent.”

“I-” very few people have willingingly approached her, the distinctive patchwork fabric of her skirt and the scarlet, jeweled headdress she wears for seances a black mark against her, an experience she, sadly, is far too familiar with even in her home country. Yet this prim and proper man not only somehow is always at the river when she needs help, but he actually helps her, feeds her, speaks with her without reservation, and now, now he offers her his (well not his, his master’s) home. “This is very kind but I do not want to inconvenience you.”

“I assure you it is not an inconvenience.”

Wanda attempts a smile, appreciative of his offer yet hesitant to allow herself to believe there is no ulterior motive. “I will certainly consider it, but I should be leaving, before it gets dark.”

The man’s body freezes, only his eyes showing signs of life as they shift side to side, clearly thrown off by her refusal. “Would you consider an offer to accompany you back to town to ensure your safe return?”

Another foreign and tempting offer but Wanda shakes her head, “I’ll be fine, thank you. I am sure you are a very busy man.” She decides it’s best to walk away, fearing if she remains there looking at the confusion in his eyes or the slightly pained frown on his face that’ll she say yes, open herself up to one more avenue of contact that will only end in manipulation, if her past can predict the future. This doesn’t mean that it hurts any less when she hears the carriage rattle, a gentle hut hut as he spurs the horses into action.

Wanda wraps the towel around her shoulders, head held high as she enters the town, not wanting to portray any weakness to the eyes that appear in the windows, disappearing anytime she turns to stare at them. It is a walk that she despises but she will never allow it to render her as lesser in their eyes, steadfastly holding to her confidence. That is until she reaches her tiny dwelling, one she sublets from an elderly woman who occasionally sprinkles salt on the windowsills, and finds the two windows shattered and the door barely hanging on the frame. Scarlet dances around her fingers as she pushes past the door, turning the knob of the lantern hanging on the wall, a spark of red igniting the wick and filling the room with a golden, muted glow as she holds it aloft.

Everything is in disarray. The table flipped on it’s side, the floor strewn with her papers, tarot cards, and the books she had been reading. Her bed is in a similar state, the rickety frame missing two legs and straw spilling out from a large slash in the mattress. Wanda breathes in, attempting to keep the tears from forming in her eyes, fights back the nauseating memories from her final days in Sokovia, of the hysteria, the yelling, the thrown stones, and the pyre, but then she turns to the left, lifting the lantern to inspect the last part of her room and on the wall, in dark red, dripping liquid is the word Witch and she can’t hold back the sob anymore, falling onto her knees as her hand rises to wipe the tears away.

It is time to leave again, that much is clear.

“Wanda?”

The voice startles her, but not enough to cloud her judgment, and so she controls the flow of red tickling her palm, social survival outweighing her instincts to attack. This voice is kind, concerned, but brimming with anger. “Clint.”

More light fills the room as he sets down his own lantern, hand falling lightly, cautiously on her back. Wanda flinches at the touch but does not move away. “I tried to stop them,” if she lifted her finger an inch she would be able to access his memories of the event, but the quiver in his voice and the scrunch of his fingers in the fabric of her dress is enough to spur her imagination. Then the object of his anger shifts, lessening the emotions to annoyance more so than ire. “But you just had to mess with William Smith, didn’t you?”

“His wife offered enough for a month’s worth of food.”

Clint scoffs at her, a sound that should infuriate her but she knows it is down in partial, mostly good-natured mockery, a sign that he might actually care about her well-being. “I thought you listened to me when I explained that Marjory is not the voice of William. Wanda,” this time he sighs, sinking into the chair at her side before leaning back and staring at the ceiling, “that man owns this area, I don’t want you to be the next Helen Jewett**”

Wanda sits up, shaking away the timidity in her limbs, conjuring her confidence and reiterating, in her mind, that she did nothing wrong. Her eyes travel to Clint’s face, taking in the exhaustion of his half-hearted smirk, an effect of a new child and little sleep. This man, just as the one at the river, has surprised her, a Blacksmith by trade who strongly refused her offer to read his fortune (something about being swindled by a fortune teller in his youth), yet invited her into his home the day she arrived, stoked a fire to dry her feet, fed her, and provided her unasked for guidance in attaining living arrangements. She is not beholden to anyone or anything, utterly alone in life, and yet, she cannot ignore the itch of despair at his disappointment, actually finds herself defending her actions in hopes he accepts the excuse. “I thought it would be different, she seemed accepting and-.”

“You thought wrong.”

“Yes.” Wanda glances despondently around the room. “It is not safe here anymore.”

The thing she respects the most about Clint is his inability to soften his words. “No, not right now.”

The confirmation is what she was seeking, mind shutting down any peripheral thoughts, instead only focusing on survival, what is next. Perhaps she offers her services to a caravan, leaves the reassuring oldness of the settlements to pursue the paradise of autonomy the fliers posted along the road describe existing in strange places with names like California, Oregon, and Utah. But she also wonders if a denser, more populated area might be better, return to New York City where she could disappears into the faceless, pulsing crowds again. Though she left the city precisely because she could not escape, no matter how crowded it got. “I am not sure where to go now.”

“I have a suggestion, if you want to actually listen to me this time.” Wanda glares at him, his honesty can be both refreshing and infuriating, particularly when he takes on a paternalistic air, the need for a parent in her life long since necessary. But instead of biting back, she waves her hand for him to continue. “I think we can salvage this,” a statement that creates a small, strange roiling in her chest, the implication being he doesn’t want her to leave. It is a foreign concept, someone wanting her to stay. “We just need to reinvent your image, you know?”

Wanda’s listless glare morphs into a wrinkled brow. “No...”

“I think it is pretty fair to say you have not managed your public image or reputation very well,” something she’d likely argue against any other day, but given her dress is creating a small pond of mud beneath her (and, much to her fury, all of her other clothing is lying in roughly torn strips on the floor) she’ll concede to his point at the present moment. “Take a break, find some place safe, start small, and then come back once they’ve calmed down.”

“Where am I supposed to find safety?”

Clint stands up, offering her his hand, which she takes, and he pulls her back onto her feet with a smile. “I’d offer my house, but,”

“Your family deserves to live unworried.”

He nods. “Precisely, but got a friend of a friend that owns an estate just north of here. Bit eccentric but from what I’ve been told he never refuses a guest with an interesting past.”

It is only as they approach the estate, it’s appearance masked by the thick, oppressively humid darkness, that Wanda second guesses the plan, is uncertain why she agreed to ask for lodging from a stranger and why she trusts Clint so much. There is a strong likelihood this will end the same as every other endeavor since her brother’s death, but the mellow flicker of gaslights lining the cobbled path to the estate is quite inviting, enough to vacate her concerns for one night of warmth and safety. Wanda clutches the small bag in her lap, containing the only remaining, mostly intact possessions that survived the violation of her room. “You are certain of this?”

Clint gives an unhelpful shrug and an even more unhelpful answer, as he never elaborates on who his friend is beyond telling Wanda that she is terrifying in the most admirable way possible, “Natasha claims this is a safe place, I believe her. Plus she said there is an incredible archery range so if you stay long enough I can probably use it.”

The reigns are tugged twice, and the horse comes to a standstill, an expectant whinny filling the air, urging Clint to swing down from the seat and offer a morsel of apple in appreciation. Wanda is not as eager to get down, suspicious eyes studying the brick facade and the curve of the railing lining the porch that disappears into the shadows cast by the gaslights affixed to the building. A deep breath in readies her, steadying her shaking hands and feet as she takes Clint’s proffered hand and steps down from the carriage. Together they approach the door, Clint gripping the large, brass ring and releasing it with glee, the door vibrating from the force of the knock.

“Promise you’ll be fine.”

“I hope you are corr-” The door opens and Wanda finds herself unable to complete the sentence, taking in the surprised stare of the man from the river, no longer in his three piece suit, having foregone the hat (revealing unsurprisingly well-tamed blonde hair) and the jacket leaving him only in a dark, silk vest and a white shirt that clearly started out pristinely pressed but has rumpled naturally from a long day.

The butler recovers first, turning his attention towards Clint, “Mr. Barton, Miss-”

“Maximoff.” Wanda intercedes, realizing they’ve never actually introduced themselves.

He nods at her, a softness forming in the way his lips curl up ever so slightly. “Maximoff. What may I do to assist you?”

“Smith’s a bit upset with his seance experience today.”

The butler’s knowing, “Yes,” is ignored by Clint, who carries on, explaining what happened to her room, acting as if the man didn’t say anything, but Wanda finds herself unable to ignore him, her body collecting the humidity from the air and channeling it deep within her cheeks at the way his eyes have not left her since she told him her name.

“Was wondering if you’d mind her staying here, let things settle down?”

There is less than a second of silence between the question and the slight, rigid bend at the waist of the blonde man, his voice stiff and formal as he bows with an, “Of course.” He straightens his body back to its full height and steps gracefully back from the doorway, “Miss Maximoff, you may stay as long as you desire. Please,” his kind, blue eyes find hers again and the heat from her cheeks rushes down her neck, filling her chest with gratitude, leaving no room for concerns at the present moment, “come in.”

Clint nudges her back, an expectant, annoyingly paternal glint to his eyes before he waves to her, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Wanda thinks she lifts her hand in farewell, but her attention is fixated on the man in front of her, watching his arms travel behind his back, lowering to an angle suitable to lace his fingers together, and his body develop a subdued yet nervous sway as he glances around the house, likely assessing what needs to be done with this new, hopefully not wholly unwelcome, guest. “Miss Maximoff?”

“Yes?”

Her words have an instant effect, the apprehension leaving his body as he assumes his prescribed role, pulling his shoulders up into a dignified tension as his fingers release from behind his back, arms coming to hang at his side. She discovers she rather prefers the prior, more nervous, more honest version of the man from moments before, particularly when he speaks, his voice now taking on an air of formality and depersonalization, a far cry from the bashful, playful dialogue earlier in the day. “Would you be amenable to my showing you to your room?”

“That would be amenable, thank you.”

A quick, well-trained nod meets her words as he begins to walk towards an impressive, mahogany framed staircase, pausing briefly before turning with an indecisive frown on his face. “I-” the indecision leaves as he squares his body again, and Wanda is enthralled at the flickering of his personality between butler and man. The butler, it seems, wins out, his left elbow bending, arm forming a reluctant triangle that he offers her. “May I offer assistance up the stairs?”

“No thank you, I,” Wanda desperately wants the man from the river back, attempts to flash a sly smile at him while she adds a touch of joviality to her voice to tempt him to loosen up, “believe I am fully capable of walking up stairs on my own, unless you need assistance.”

For a brief, fleeting moment, he allows the seriousness to slip from his face, a twitch overtaking the corner of his mouth that could be construed as merriment, but then he nods, washing away the vestige of humor. “I believe I am also quite capable of traversing stairs. Please, follow me.”

They walk in relative silence, though it is a silence she has not experienced, lacking the tension of fear that hovers at a seance and no sign of awkwardness or boredom that engulfs her when she is trapped with a stranger on a transport. No this is comfortable, soothing, undemanding and incredibly refreshing. Which is why she isn’t sure why she decides to obliterate the silence, but curiosity is always a strong temptation for a Maximoff. “Your,” she attempts to remember his vocabulary at the river, “employer will be okay with me staying here?”

“Oh, undoubtedly.” The lack of hesitation combined with the nonchalance of the answer is reassuring. “As I explained earlier, you were already welcome, this is not qualitatively different.”

“Thank you.”

He nods as he directs her towards an open door, the room instantly stealing all of her attention as her eyes travel along the majestic four-poster jet-black bed, gilded panels etched with ornate designs of leaves. Next to the bed is an equally macabre and lavish chaise lounge, the deep purple encasing the cushions tempting her to walk across the room and run her palm along the indulgent softness of the crushed velvet. “I hope this room is suitable.” Wanda has no words, dumbfounded at the luxury of the room, never having seen something like this even in the homes of the elite she visited (and was often unceremoniously tossed from) for seances. “There are dressing gowns in the wardrobe and you should find all necessities for this evening. I shall better prepare the room tomorrow. Sleep well and do not hesitate to ring the bell near the bed if you require assistance of any sort.”

It’s not until his last words and the slight creak of the heavy wooden door that Wanda, without thinking, throws out a scarlet thread to stop the door, tossing out a hurried, “Wait!”

The butler takes a hesitant step back into the room, an anticipatory set to his face as he waits for her request. “How may I help you, Miss Maximoff?”

Wanda walks to the door, neck craning to stare up at his face, studying his features as best she can in the dim lighting. “What’s your name?” “Oh, yes, my apologies.” The man clears his throat before continuing, a nervousness permeating the air around him that she finds somewhat unsettling, almost making her offer an apology as the question seems to have upset him. “You may simply call me Vision, it is what my employer and his guests refer to me as and so it is what I answer to if you find you need assistance.”

“Vision?”

“Correct,” the man steps away with a small, stiff bow. “Sleep well, Miss. Maximoff,” and then he disappears into the darkness of the surrounding hallway, leaving her alone.

Wanda finds the information infuriating, a seething rage forming in her limbs at the implication of his words, but she resolves to release it for the night, change into dry clothes, and perhaps tomorrow she will unravel the mystery of this man and figure out what comes next for her.

*Shady

**A famous case of a murdered prostitute from 1800s NY

#scarletvisionexchange2017 #sve2017 #scarlet vision #Victorian AU #Antebellum US AU #fluff #angst #melodrama #chaptered fic #ao3 #be kind I am new and quite uncomfortable with AUs #aos

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25 Best Movies on Hulu Right Now (September 2019) | ScreenRant

Hulu has a lot of great movies - here are the 25 best films on the streaming service. In an age of options, less feels like more. While Netflix has an ever-expanding library, Hulu offers a more focused collection of great movies. Because volume isn’t the objective, Hulu succeeds in curating a batch of excellent films.

There are the iconic classics like The Matrix and Seven, the arthouse darlings like Sorry to Bother You and Let the Right One In, and the pure entertainment gems like The Fifth Element and Shrek. Hulu keeps it simple, and offers something for everybody. Here are the 25 best movies that you can watch on Hulu right now.

Related: The 25 Best Films on Netflix Right Now

Before we start, first a disclaimer. modern streaming libraries are like carousels, always moving and always changing. The films in this list are available on Hulu at the time of writing. We’ll be updating this top 25 list frequently, so keep an eye out for Hulu’s latest and greatest offerings. Also, the list isn't ranked from worst to best, so a lower number is not meant to denote higher quality. It's just a list of 25 great movies.

Last updated: September 5, 2019

25 Detroit

While it slipped through awards season without much hype, Detroit remains one of 2017’s best films. Rotten Tomatoes awarded it an 84% for its “gut-wrenching dramatization of a tragic chapter” in American history. Director Kathryn Bigelow tackles the 1967 incident in Motor City with aplomb, deftly guiding a sprawling cast (led by John Boyega and Will Poulter) through a maze of tension, bigotry, and survival. Detroit streams exclusively on Hulu.

24 The Fifth Element

One of the most unique sci-fi films of its decade, director Luc Besson's 1997 hit The Fifth Element served to launch the career of future Resident Evil franchise lead Milla Jovovich into the stratosphere, and is now on Hulu. Bruce Willis stars as Korben Dallas, a 23rd century cab driver who ends up unwillingly thrust into a quest to save the Earth when Leeloo (Jovovich) jumps off into a building into his flying vehicle. The two are opposed by Jean-Baptiste Emmanuel Zorg (Gary Oldman), a brash villain working on behalf of a great cosmic evil.

23 Seven

One of the most respected crime thrillers of the 1990s, Seven has style to spare, and was one of the films to first establish David Fincher as a director be reckoned with. Seven stars Brad Pitt as brash young detective David Mills, who partners up with soon to retire detective William Somerset (Morgan Freeman) in order to try and catch a serial killer who bases his murders on the seven deadly sins. Hauling in over $300 million at the box office on a $33 million budget, Seven was both a critical and commercial smash, and deserves to be revisited on Hulu.

Read More: 15 Awesome Facts You Didn't Know About Seven

22 The Matrix

One of the biggest pop culture phenomenons of its time, 1999's The Matrix put sibling directors The Wachowskis on the map. The Matrix's quite brilliant premise is that the world and everyone in it is in fact a computer simulation powered by the very humans that dwell there, after a catastrophic war between mankind and machines. One day, Thomas Anderson aka Neo (Keanu Reeves), a mild-mannered computer programmer by day and hacker by night, is woken up to the sad reality of his situation by Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne) and Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss), leaders of a human resistance effort seeking to expose The Matrix to the public. Sequels The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions are also available on Hulu.

21 Basic Instinct

While 1992's Basic Instinct is most remembered for a particularly scandalous scene involving Sharon Stone, the movie as a whole is quite the enthralling neo-noir suspense thriller. Directed by Paul Verhoeven, Basic Instinct stars Michael Douglas as detective Nick Curran, who makes the mistake of becoming romantically involved with murder suspect Catherine Tramell (Stone). Well, depending on one's definition of romance. One of the biggest hits of the 1990s, Basic Instinct made over $350 million, and is a Hulu pick definitely aimed at adults.

20 Lethal Weapon

Directed by 1980s mainstay Richard Donner, 1987's Lethal Weapon still stands as one of the quintessential examples of how to do a "buddy cop" action movie right. Mel Gibson stars as Martin Riggs, a suicidal sergeant with a short fuse and nothing to lose. Riggs gets partnered up with by the book lawman Roger Murtaugh (Danny Glover), leading to a slowly blossoming friendship, and one of film's most beloved duos. Lethal Weapon would spawn three successful sequels, and a TV reboot that aired on FOX. All are currently available on Hulu too.

Read More: Where Are They Now? The Cast Of Lethal Weapon

19 An American Werewolf in London

There are many iconic movies about vampires, ghosts, witches, and demons, but unfortunately, the werewolf tends to come up short in that department, starring in more stinkers than hits. Arguably the best werewolf movie of all time is 1981's An American Werewolf in London, directed by John Landis, and now on Hulu. Boasting amazing practical creature effects that hold up today, the film tells the story of David Kessler (David Naughton), an American backpacking in Europe that ends up surviving a werewolf attack that kills his best friend. Unfortunately, it's not too long before David realizes he's now cursed to kill during the full moon.

18 Ocean's Eleven

While director Steven Soderbergh might be better known for his award-worthy dramas, sometimes he stops being quite so serious, and creates the laid back chill of 2001's Ocean's Eleven. A critical and commercial ($450 million worldwide) hit, Ocean's Eleven manages to be both a thrilling heist caper and an amusing bit of ensemble fun, perfect for Hulu subscribers. Said ensemble boasts some huge names, including George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, Matt Damon, Don Cheadle, and Bernie Mac.

17 Hellraiser

Any dedicated horror fan has surely had their soul torn apart multiple times by Hellraiser's Pinhead (Doug Bradley) by this point. Director Clive Barker (adapting his own novella) crafted one of the most enduring tales of terror to come out of the 1980s, spawning one of the longest-running horror franchises out there as well. Hellraiser may only have a 68% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, but it's a certified classic of the genre, and needs to be watched by anyone who enjoys a good fright flick. Direct sequel Hellbound: Hellraiser II is also part of Hulu's roster.

Read More: The Real Life Inspirations Behind 11 Horror Movie Icons

16 Frank

To some, Michael Fassbender is a young Magneto. To others, he’s a two-time Academy Award nominee. To a select few, he’s the gonzo pop musician and eponymous hero in Frank, the offbeat artist who became more famous for his oversized paper-mâché mask than his music. Directed by Lenny Abrahamson (Room), Frank earned a 92% Rotten Tomatoes score and remains a cult classic to adventurous Hulu viewers looking for a changeup in their visual diet.

15 Annihilation

One of Screen Rant's favorite movies of 2018, Annihilation is a visionary sci-fi film written and directed by Alex Garland, who previously made his directing debut with the equally arresting Ex Machina. Natalie Portman stars as Lena, one of the only survivors of an expedition into a realm called "The Shimmer," which serves as home to places and creatures beyond anything known to the natural world. Sporting an 89% RT score, Annihilation just arrived on Hulu, and also stars Jennifer Jason Leigh, Gina Rodriguez, Tessa Thompson, and Oscar Isaac.

14 Training Day

Directed by Antoine Fuqua, Training Day features Denzel Washington in arguably his greatest role, alongside an equally game performance by Ethan Hawke. Washingston stars as Alonzo Harris, a highly decorated but also highly corrupt narcotics officer, tasked with showing new recruit Jake Hoyt (Hawke) the ropes. Alonzo is a villain through and through, but damn is he fun to watch at work. Surprisingly, Training Day only holds a 72% on RT, despite earning Washington an Oscar and Hawke an Oscar nomination. Regardless of the lower rating, Training Day is still one of the best films on Hulu.

Read More: Ethan Hawke is (Sort Of) Right About Superhero Movies

13 Spaceballs

Made back in the days when director Mel Brooks could seemingly do no wrong, Spaceballs is a hilarious parody of the original Star Wars trilogy. While it wasn't quite a critical hit, Spaceballs has earned itself a gigantic cult following in the decades since its release, and features terrific comedic performances from greats like Bill Pullman, John Candy, Rick Moranis, Joan Rivers, and even Brooks himself as the wise sage called Yogurt. Stream it on Hulu and get ready to laugh.

12 A Quiet Place

While John Krasinski might always be best known for playing Jim on iconic sitcom The Office, 2018's acclaimed sci-fi/horror film A Quiet Place demonstrated that he has just as much talent behind the camera. Directed, co-written by, and starring Krasinski, A Quiet Place centers on a family living in the aftermath of an apocalyptic alien invasion. The invading creatures are deadly, and hunt by sound, meaning that the Abbott clan has to spend most of their life in silence. Unfortunately, things eventually go wrong, and the monsters come calling. Krasinkski's real-life wife Emily Blunt co-stars in this prime Hulu pick.

11 Unbreakable

While 2019's theatrical arrival of director M. Night Shyamalan's latest film Glass didn't exactly set the world on fire, that doesn't diminish the greatness of its predecessors, the first being 2000's Unbreakable, recently added to Hulu. After surviving a deadly train crash without a scratch, mild-mannered security guard and family man David Dunn (Bruce Willis) comes to discover that he possesses powers beyond normal men, and that he's destined for greatness as a superhero. Guiding him down this path is Elijah Price (Samuel L. Jackson), a mysterious man with secrets of his own.

Read More: M. Night Shyamalan's Films Ranked From Absolute Worst To Best (Including Glass)

10 Punch-Drunk Love

The fourth feature to be directed by perennial critical darling Paul Thomas Anderson, 2002's Punch-Drunk Love offered a showcase for comedy icon Adam Sandler's then-unknown dramatic chops as Barry Egan, a desperately lonely man with severe rage issues. Sadly, said chops have only been glimpsed a few times since, with Sandler mostly content to stick to his usual wheelhouse of slapstick comedies like Grown Ups. Still fans of Sandler the actor will always have this critically acclaimed film to remember him by, and stream on Hulu.

9 Airplane

Continually considered one of the funniest films in history, 1980 spoof comedy Airplane throws joke after joke at the audience with reckless abandon, and while all of them don't necessarily hit for everyone, most of them likely will. Granted, Airplane does contain some material likely to be viewed as a bit problematic by current standards, but when seen through the lens of when it was made, it's clear these jokes weren't intended to be malicious. Airplane might be best known for taking Leslie Nielsen, then primarily a dramatic actor, and turning him into a comedic force to be reckoned with. Anyone who hasn't experienced Airplane needs to take this flight while it's on Hulu.

8 Shutter Island

Directed by Martin Scorsese and starring his modern muse Leonardo DiCaprio, 2010's Shutter Island centers on U.S. Marshal Teddy Daniels, who's sent to investigate a mysterious disappearance at a mental hospital on the titular island. Unfortunately for Teddy, nothing is what it seems, and the mystery threatens to swallow him whole. The star-studded cast also includes Mark Ruffalo, Ben Kingsley, Max von Sydow, and Michelle Williams. Those looking for a thriller designed to keep them guessing should definitely stream Shutter Island on Hulu.

Read More: 10 Amazing Martin Scorsese Movies Everyone Forgets About

7 Shrek

The film that put Dreamworks Animation on the map, 2001's Shrek stars Mike Myers as the titular ogre, a creature gruff on the outside but caring on the inside. Despite not wanting to do anything but hang out in his swamp, Shrek is compelled to go on a quest to rescue Princess Fiona (Cameron Diaz) by the villainous Lord Farquad (John Lithgow). By his side is Donkey (Eddie Murphy), a fast-talking animal who can't help annoying Shrek with his constant chatter. Shrek spawned a franchise of three sequels and multiple specials, and is worth checking out on Hulu.

6 Rosemary's Baby

Although director Roman Polanski is quite rightfully disgraced nowadays for being a convicted rapist, but that doesn't mean his classic films are suddenly any less great. One of the best is 1968's Rosemary's Baby, a deservedly revered entry into the horror canon. Mia Farrow stars as the titular character, a young woman who sees her life get more and more unraveled after she and her husband move into a mysterious New York City apartment building. Before long, she begins to suspect that every single person in her orbit might be involved in a demonic conspiracy. Those who haven't seen it owe it to themselves to meet Rosemary's Baby on Hulu.

5 Vice

A biopic about former U.S. vice president Dick Cheney was always going to be a controversial, divisive prospect, especially one directed by Adam McKay with a sharp satirical edge. In the end, 2018's Vice ended up earning mostly praise from critics, and multiple Oscar nominations, including one for Christian Bale's eerily accurate performance as Cheney. Bale famously put on lots of weight for the role, and is almost unrecognizable at a glance. Vice's all-star cast also includes Amy Adams, Steve Carell, Sam Rockwell, and more. Vice is worth a stream on Hulu, especially during these current politically-charged times.

Read More: Christian Bale’s 10 Greatest Roles, Ranked

4 Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

The Star Trek multimedia franchise has so far produced 13 feature films, but arguably the most iconic of those came early on, with 1982's Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, now on Hulu. For better or worse, The Wrath of Khan changed gears from the metaphysical, exploratory adventure that was Star Trek: The Motion Picture, and did its best to turn Star Trek into more of a space action vehicle. Thankfully, it succeeded with most, and William Shatner's Captain Kirk yelling KHAN! at Ricardo Montalban's titular villain has become the stuff of legend.

3 Sorry to Bother You

One of the most uniquely creative movies of 2018, director Boots Riley's debut is a thought-provoking look at American race relations, framed through a dystopian comedic lens. Sorry to Bother You stars Lakeith Stanfield as Cassius "Cash" Green, who gets a job as a telemarketer, only to discover that putting on his "white voice" is what gets the money rolling in. Sorry to Bother You is a film not really suited to being summed up in a paragraph, but its 93% Rotten Tomatoes score kind of speaks for itself. Check it out on Hulu.

2 Heathers

A darker than dark comedy, Heathers was written by Daniel Waters and directed by Michael Lehmann, and sports a huge cult following, which is sure to only get bigger via Hulu. Winona Ryder stars as Veronica Sawyer, a high school student who runs afoul of former friends the Heathers, a trio of rich, popular girls that rule teen society with an iron fist. After being wronged by them, Veronica makes the mistake of teaming up with outcast bad boy J.D. (Christian Slater) in order to get revenge. Sadly, J.D.'s idea of revenge is straight up murdering his enemies.

1 Let the Right One In

Released in a decade where vampire cinema was dominated by the sparkly Twilight, director Tomas Alfredson's Swedish hit Let the Right One In was exactly what the classic creature needed to remind audiences that despite their affliction, vampire movies don't have to suck. Lina Leandersson stars as Eli, an ageless vampire with the appearance of a child, and Kare Hedebrant plays Oskar, the bullied young boy she enters into an unexpectedly sweet relationship with. The film was later adapted stateside by Matt Reeves, with Chloe Grace Moretz in the Eli role. That version is sadly not available via Hulu.

Next: 10 Best Shows You Didn’t Know Were On Hulu

source https://screenrant.com/hulu-best-movies/

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