#This is why I’m obsessed with worlds beyond number

[severalrodentsdrinkingtea]

It makes my heart feel really soft to see how clearly Brennan LOVES and understands Evan.

In this episode especially, when he had his heart to heart with Jammer, you can see his face screw up and hear his voice get hollow trying not to cry while he was talking, and it was just such an earnest and vulnerable discussion of his love for Jammer and his need for belonging and it was beautiful; I think it was one of my favorite character moments this season. As an actor, that honesty and depth is what we’re always trying to capture, and seeing that made me admire Bleem on a new level. Obviously the man is funny and sharp as a tack—that’s clear in everything he does—but I haven’t seen this skill set in play a lot.

[charmedreincarnation]

Hi Maya I am this person. Can I be your 🧿 anon because I am Greek and middle eastern

https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/714864628452212736/i-got-into-the-void-state-using-your-method-bu

I did end up getting into the void state with your theta method and manifesting everything I desire and it feels so great ☺️☺️ this is the evening for me and i have been living my best life so I wanted to thank you. You say don’t do that but your page has been motivating and helpful 🧡

I manifested in the void

My family having a net worth of 200 million dollars. Before my dad made 40k a year as a carpet cleaner and my mom was a stay at home mom.

Moving to La with my family and living in my dream super mansion.

Having a loyal and diverse friend group. I never had good friends before and when I did they always left me out or bullied me and used me as the D.U.F.F ugly friend.

Having a natural 90s beauty and my desires 90s body like Kate moss but with big boobs and I’m 5’7.

Loving accepting spiritual family who is not religious. My mom was never even Muslim she’s white but married my father who is Arab. He was fine except for the strict Islamic rules he mad me us follow so I revised that.

Having a private plane. My mom has already planned so many summer trips to Monaco, Mykonos, Milan, and Cabo for the summer. We have never travelled outside of the state and now we are going all over the world I am very excited

Awesome confident, personality and aura like tomie and Alexa deme, bad bitch energy, and energy of Saturn because you always talk about Saturn and it’s connection to woman and it sounds awesome 😎

Good intuition, safety from harm for my friends my family and me, being good with dieties and my spirit guide and being a master shifter. I haven’t done it yet but your shifting story sound very fun so it is something I want to explore

Always feeling like I got 9/10 hours of sleep no matter how long i sleep

Being a wonyoung Pilates pink princess girl. That’s why number 9 is so important because I’ve been obsessed with that lifestyle on Tik tok but I’m a night owl so now I can get to early :)

Omg this is the best thing I could have waken up to this morning <3 I am beyond happy for you 🧿 anon! Also the sleep manifestation is so goals I did the same thing earlier this year :)!!!

Anyways thank you for sharing 💗 I hope you continue to live your best and happiest life!

[utilitycaster]

Sort of related to the post about people coming in for shipping but something that’s struck me, as actual play fandom has spread, is that there is a certain lack of genre awareness currently - not just surrounding Critical Role, to be honest; it’s a frustration for me for the conversation surrounding Dimension 20 and Worlds Beyond Number for a while as well.

Take fate, for example. The idea of fate, whether it’s as specific as an ancient prophecy, or as broad as the general concept of destiny, is absolutely at the core of so many classic fantasy series that to be vehemently opposed to it within Critical Role is to display profound ignorance of the genre of fantasy. It’s akin to showing up to a sporting event and getting mad that people are running around in athletic gear; it’s like going to an Italian restaurant in the US and screaming in the face of the waiter when they give you bread and olive oil. There is not, per se, a required reading list. You do not need to read nor watch all of Lord of the Rings let alone consider it a formative work; Sam Riegel and Aabria Iyengar sure haven’t. But if you are not familiar with the genre at all, at the very least you do need to come with a certain awareness that you are not familiar with the genre and be open to its conventions. And to be clear: it’s valid to hate the theme of things being fated. But again, that’s like hating they serve bread and olive oil at the Italian restaurant; you should probably simply not go to Italian restaurants.

Another example that is my personal source of irritation is the obsession with radiation as a factor in Burrow’s End. Setting aside my original irritation at just good old-fashioned lack of reading comprehension with the conflation of the poison and the Blue/the Light, the idea that the intelligence was induced by radiation is really…not genre aware. Like, I recognize I’m coming at this with rather more knowledge than average (from a scientific rather than genre-aware perspective no less) but to get back to genre, I take no issue with, say, radiation in comic books. I know the premise of Spider-Man or of Doctor Manhattan’s origins is absolutely ridiculous; but that’s the genre. Radiation in comic books exists to be an easy origin story so we can get to the point of “here’s a guy with powers”. However, in a show that derives its narrative language from Watership Down and Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh, the idea that the magic and the lightning and the source of intelligence are radiation makes little sense. Another example is the weird response to Skip in Starstruck; the idea of an alien brain parasite like that is so genre-typical to space opera it feels like, again, someone going to an Italian restaurant, pointing at the bread, and saying “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? HOW DARE YOU!”

I think my particular frustration with both of the above (and when I talk about Worlds Beyond Number) is that those people ignorant of genre and not letting it wash over them a la Sam will often fall back to the real world (although, unfortunately, not when it comes to radiation) when trying to make sense of the narrative without the signposts, language, and tropes of the genres to which they belong. To understand the subversions or deconstructions that are likely to occur in, for example, the upcoming exploration of the Citadel in Worlds Beyond Number, you need to be open to the idea that it is a complicated place and not simply The Evil Empire That Suvi Will Definitely Leave; if you’re utterly suspicious of everyone and refuse to try to understand why this is a place people enjoy let alone will die for, you can’t actually experience the story. We are going into the Citadel arc; these wizards will be humanized, and if you have closed off your mind to them already you have set yourself up to be miserable. I do think it’s great that actual play has found an increasingly large audience, but the medium of actual play also carries a certain lexicon and ignorance of it will skew one’s interpretations. My personal bugbear here is of course interpreting bog-standard tanking strategies as either romantic or self-sacrificial in intent, but in general, any resistance to the mere concept of gaining power, the existence of concrete deities, combat, and the placement of plot above romance in D&D are all signs of this ignorance. And again: ignorance is fine! But with all of the above there also often comes this entitlement to a story that is familiar, in blatant disregard for those parameters of genre and medium, and I have to wonder, again, why people mad that a fantasy story is leaning heavily on fantasy story norms, or why D&D has combat, are still showing up to the fantasy D&D story. To return to the Italian restaurant, which is getting a lot of terrible patrons in this metaphor, it feels like a lot of people are showing up to this restaurant because they heard it was good, but then becoming furious it won’t serve them peanut butter and jelly. People who are not familiar should still be welcome, but that lack of familiarity needs to be accompanied by an openness and desire to learn, rather than the entitlement that is so often present.

[28dayslater]

good evening to you all and welcome to cockmojo where tonight we will be counting down my personal top ten terror cocks

those unaffiliated with footyblr may be unfamiliar with the term cock as it’s being used here: all will become clear in time

special mention before we start to the netsilik hunter (sexy man, deserved a name and some screentime) james clark ross but only in the first episode when he’s all rugged and his beard’s grown out, and mr blanky, who, much like knife dad, fuccs like a broken train but he runs on time if you know what i mean

in a very respectable tenth place finish, billy gibson. i didn’t see the vision until 1. it was pointed out to me that he looks a lot like pau torres, who is himself very cockable, and 2. i rewatched the scene where he breaks up with hickey. known shagger, massive hater, a very pointy nose, he’s scraped a place on this list.

a surprise entry at ninth is john irving. inarguably cute in a sort of late 2000s british indie band bassist way, and while i’m not sure i could fix him (he probably needs a man for that) i do think i would have fun trying. ultimately he’s not higher because he’s kind of annoying and his eyebrows piss me off.

representing the dilves at eighth is doctor macdonald. he’s entrancing to me he has this vibe of like gentle paternal indulgence... like even if you were annoying he’d be very fond of you. and i need that. when he said “i’d like to run that man through” and rubbed his eyes and looked so tired, i really felt something. the crow’s feet, the widow’s peak, the hair, yes!!

doing it for the feminists, in seventh we have harry goodsir. the loveliest guy on the expedition until he goes nastymode, and i’m fully on board with both versions. this picture was chosen for a reason and it’s bc his long curly hair full beard miserable expression era was simply unbeatable. unfortunately, and this is maybe the most insane thing i’ve ever said about a man, or at least top ten, when his half eaten corpse was laid out face down, and it had noticeable back hair, i got the ick. just to add insult to injury :/

i’m as surprised as you are that he’s not higher, number six, james fitzjames! he is my pretty pretty princess. nails, hair, hips, heels. high femme queen in his cunty little outfits ordering the men around. i want to brush his hair, one hundred strokes minimum. i think this is less sexual than some others on this list, it’s more appreciation. but my god do i appreciate him.

stay alive, number five, it’s thomas jopson. most beautiful haunted doll in the arctic, but that pretty face is covering up a seriously compelling #WeirdGuy underneath. all the shiny hair in the world can’t hide an obsession with his boss that in the modern era would be getting him a very serious meeting with HR. what a character, servicetopson you rock my world. but at the end of the day he loses points because i hate the beard. garrigan looks great with a beard in other stuff, i really don’t know why the scurvybeard was so foul. terror hair and makeup department GET IT TOGETHER. 

number phwoar, henry collins is here! he’s big he’s sweet he’s deeply mentally unstable he needs a cuddle and we’ve all seen that gif of him in aliens. would love to make him a really nice cup of tea (seems like a two sugars man), pet his hair as he rests his head in my lap, then fuck up my hip flexors. 

and now... we enter our top three. who’s made it to the prestigious cock podium?

first up, the winner of our bronze cock medal, which presumably he’ll be flogging for an unreasonable price to someone he’s assured it’s solid gold, “cornelius hickey”! people will bitch and moan about how he’s a violent lunatic who’s killed people like i’m not a cuti romero stan 🙄 i can see beyond that, my third eye is firmly open. the potential for a fun toxic relationship is absolutely off the charts bc that’s the only kind he has. and he’s very pretty when he cries. i can forgive a lot of crimes for a man whose nose entrances me.

in second place, such a close runner up, i have to award this honour to edward little. a pedestrian choice, you might think, if you don’t know the lore. i couldn’t fully explain my feelings towards this secondary character who’s not especially exciting on first watch when i started the show until i googled his actor... although i lacked the words to express this at the time i was cocking this man when i was 13 and he first appeared in misfits with a stupid neck tattoo and a horrible suit, and i cock him again now. this is a cock that’s followed me all my life, even though i forgot he existed for about a decade in between. who else can truly say they’ve EARNED a spot on my list like he has? he’s sad, he’s sopping wet, i could make him cry extremely easily. mwah

and finally...

number one. it had to be him, it was always going to be him. solomon tozer, take a bow and i’ll take ten cranberry pills. sol is thee top cock for so many reasons and chief among them is versatility. whatever you need he can be it. handsome soldier boy in a fancy red uniform that shows off his trim little waist? COCK! hostile violent mutineer throwing his life away in a rebellion? COCK! broken man inducted into a cult who cries about it? COCK!!! sexiest man in the damn arctic i know he was beating the boys off with a stick. there is a certain level of sexiness a man can reach where nothing he does is an ick, and i knew he’d reached that for me once i saw him in that insanely stupid hat at sir john’s funeral and didn’t give a fuck. call him tom jones the way he can leave his hat on. keep thotting it up in heaven/hell king i miss you every day. i know it was huge. my heart hurts.

[tiny-flickers]

i actually wrote down all my thoughts as i listened to the sounds of nightmares and i thought they would be funny to share so here (instagram followers have already seen this but.)

all under cut bc i’m just gonna post it all at once (brackets are things i added later)

—————

ch 1: the workers in the walls

“patient number 1220… referring to children by numbers…….” is SOOOO CRAZY LMFAOO 😭 they know what they did there

imagine being named “no one” (noone) bro that is crazy. that’s even sadder than “mono” because at least he is SOMEBODY. like ik that’s not her actual name but the fact that that’s what she chose as her alias…

“otto” sounds a bit similar to “mono” idk [no it does not?? idk what i was going on about here]

i wonder if noone’s nightmare of being trapped inside a giant relates at all to the giant baby that’s going to appear in ln3

i wonder if she’s talking about the wax bellman (who was removed from the games but still has a portrait in the maw) when she describes the guy who appears in that room in her nightmare [she wasn’t btw]

the shadow children???? or glitched remains perhaps

the music & audio is very maw-like

gears?? making a song???? the giant is totally some sort of living music box or whatever. & she keeps describing the area as being made of stone and it’s sort of implied in the ln3 trailer that the giant baby turns people into stone so…

noone distinctly smelling this chained up guy and saying that he smells of sausages gone badly is sooo guestcore

perhaps the world of little nightmares is an alternate dimension which one can access through dreams

the lady??? noone describes her as being the keeper of the stone giant and the world beyond the walls

AND describes her face as being equally old and young

or perhaps the “stone giant” IS the maw [it’s not]

“the ceiling was a white clock face, but all the numbers were wrong” time loop reference fr

oh yeah this is a prison

so it’s gotta be the maw or something similar at least (but it doesn’t seem to be a boat so)

ok when the mysterious lady appears and gets noone’s dream friend the lady attack music from the first game plays which definitely makes me think she is the actual lady. and she’s covered in chains because she herself is a prisoner if you think about it (especially considering the six/lady connection)

and noone describes her mouth as having “blackened teeth inside; hungry for something” which further emphasizes the connection

^^“…something that swelled inside me” she wanted her SOUL fr!!!!!

noone saying that she feels like she doesn’t exist sometimes :( probably why she chose the name

also “water sickness”???? silo??? [silo trilogy reference]

she thinks she’s possessed by bugs or whatever and idk if that will connect to ln3 or what [more like parasites but.]

mutual dreaming bro what if that’s what happened with six and mono

see cuz “cece” kinda sounds like “six” too (i mean i’ve already seen theories about this but)

ch 2: a penance at the bathhouse

“the candleman” has GOTTA be the wax guy [except he’s not…. the name really threw me off here]

noone says she likes moths. there are big moths that can be seen in cages in ln2

noone’s nightmare!!! maw reference!!! she saw an ocean and saw a bunch of boats coming out?? “and from their mouths, plump men and women emerged. faces hidden behind wooden masks” ITS THE GUESTSSSS!!!! are all these “fish-like contraptions” part of the maw then?

also she mentions that they’re going to a “lantern-lit market” which might be what we saw in the ln3 trailer???

“a voice whispered ‘hey!’” LN2 REFERENCE

“gazing into its spiral always gave me relief” no man you are going to be hypnotized!!!! hypnotherapy is a bad idea in the little nightmares world!!!!!!!!!!

noone saying that the candleman wants her to open herself to this world and that he’s been with her all along…… i feel like that sort of connects to the wax bellman’s profession LMAO [HELP]

makes sense that these guests would be obsessed with cleansing and purification considering the masks and the fact that they were likely warped by the signal tower

“i was quite happy surrounded by the dark” six energy

ch 3: the theater of the mind

yippee!! [I FORGOT TO DELETE THIS ONE LMAO]

“in the dark, a hand let go of mine” SIX & MONO REFERENCE

noone being trapped in this big shopping mall is kinda giving fnaf security breach tbh

mannequins…. no……… not again….

the projector shaped like a giant eye??? like in the maw??

THEY CALLED HER NO ONE :(( NOOOOO THATS WHAT HER BULLIES CALLED HER NOO

no wonder she chose that name

“this place had been warped by pain” “even the walls began throbbing” definitely related to the signal tower

“don’t take her. not this one, too” ok but what if that’s like. mono or something trying to get someone to stay with him in his nightmare [it’s not but that would be cool]

ok so noone was on tv probably because of her sickness thing but the fact that tvs are such a prominent thing in the ln world also makes it suspicious….

ok so otto’s professor was like what if there’s other realities beyond our perception guys lol [ln multiverse]

ch 4: two of a kind

oh ok so he kinda does believe that noone is traveling to another reality/world at night not only because of her nightmares but because her body keeps disappearing before his eyes….

guys this would be so crazy for my ln/dracula au [LMAOOO]

she’s going into the upside down fr

guys they’re going on a ferris wheel

is this like the carnival place that’s gonna be in ln3

“it’s nowhere” that’s the world the games are set in!!!

not sure if this means that six & the other characters are just dreaming or if noone is just in a world parallel to theirs

perhaps cece is a previous version of the lady

wait he just said “the ferryman” ????? not the candleman?? like the ferryman from little nightmares???!!! the guy who took six to the maw??!?!?!1!?! [guys no way it’s the ferryman from little nightmares]

ok yes i’m thinking now that the nowhere is a parallel universe

ch 5: a deluge of the inevitable

i guess it would make sense that the candleman/ferryman is the guardian between worlds since he’s sort of like. someone who delivers people between places (like six to the maw) plus the two characters do look similar… the ferryman could totally be the candleman but just wearing a mask [i was too fixated on the wax bellman thing]

noone has a tumor???? wtf!!?? :( is this because of the water sickness or whatever

nome???? ITS A NOME!!!!! THERES A NOME IN THE SEWERS!!!!!

“little mushroom fairy” awww

“the first non-hostile being you’ve met that wasn’t another child” oh buddy do i have something to tell you

“you believe this place transformed him?” YES THE SIGNAL TOWER DID IT!!!!

BRO IS GETTING POSSESSED BY THE SIGNAL TOWER LMFAOOOO

ok so otto created this contraption that allows noone’s dreams to be projected onto a screen

but the screen was all blinding and static-y and showed a creepy eye looking at him….

the signal tower’s transmissions are gonna leak into your world bro do you have any idea what you’ve done [it didn’t really but. this would have been an interesting way the story could have gone]

ch 6: the lonely way

she reappeared somewhere that was not her bed?? weird

nawww he’s just using her now

i was wondering why otto was calling the candleman the ferryman but it’s because that’s what cece called him… and that’s what we know him by because of six…

“a doctor’s coat, a pink tutu and shoes, and a yellow raincoat”

THE RAINCOAT BROOO (and ik otto reacted strangely to the fact that it was yellow which is why ppl think cece is six but i’m not sure yet)

“tan trenchcoat” that is SO mono

“a shape in the distance. an outline of a door,” DONT OPEN IT DONT OPEN ITTT!!!!!

“it’s a liquid” it’s the signal tower goop! do not open the door bff!!!!

I KNEW THE DOOR WAS GOIJG TO HAVE AN EYE ON IT GOD DAMN IT DONT OPEN IT!!! THE THJN MAN IS IN THERE!!!

ahh shit the door is creaking open

wait the candleman is behind the door? not the thin man?? maybe this specific door is the bridge between the worlds then (bc noone said it didn’t have a doorknob on it which i’m pretty sure it did in the game)

“where is my sister” wait is cece his sister :00

ohh that’s why noone asked if the picture otto had was of his daughter because she looked so young…. but he just lost her at a really young age

the stairs are going every direction at once?? this HAS to be the signal tower. or some dream-like manifestation of it at least

all the stars noone sees in this place are EYES i KNEW it!!! the facade is crumbling!! it’s the signal tower!!!!!!

the door merging into faces of children… probably the children that were taken to feed the signal tower….

nawww he’s going to start experimenting on another kid now 😭

wait so did the candleman just… take noone away????? I NEED MORE EXPLANATION HELLO??????

wait if it was the lady that was the weird mannequin it would make sense for her to have the raincoat in her chest wouldn’t it because of the pictures in her chambers of (possibly) rcg???

so if rcg IS her daughter then she probably would’ve gotten the raincoat from her

or maybe CECE is rcg….

idk i’m going to have to look up more theories now

[spewing my ��rcg=flashlight girl and the lady’s daughter’ nonsense]

[draculasstrawhat]

This is going to be a long post about unreliability in Dracula, because while I love how in to it everyone is getting, and don’t want to trash anyone else’s reading or feelings about it, I do feel that there’s a bit of a “previous interpretations hated [character] for no reason!” going on, and as an ancient fan… we didn’t just pull this out of our arses.

I feel like part of the shift in the viewing of some characters is as a result of the Dracula Daily format (which, incidentally, I love, and has given me a very valuable reappraisal of Jonathon’s character) but which both gives the narrative as linear in terms of TLs, and an immediacy which the original text lacks.

Put simply, Dracula - the novel - is a construct on three levels.

That it is a fiction created by Bram Stoker, in the social and cultural environment of the late 19thC.

That it is told through the diaries and letter (ie, constructed personas) of the characters, and

That it has further been compiled and edited BY the characters, with “extraneous material” removed, in order to tell a compelling narrative. The majority of the actual original documents have been destroyed.

Which is to say that from the little intro bit, Stoker is clueing us in that not everything here is 100% reliable. We should perhaps be on our guard.

Moreover, we should be aware of what Stoker might be trying to sell us with this story, and suspicious of it.

Now, I only have a very small amount of time for the most extreme examples of this tendency- that the whole thing is an arse-covering exercise for, “… and that, officer, is why we were obliged to desecrate a grave and murder a foreign national,” but, like… that is still as valid an interpretation as reading the thing at face value.

As I say, this isn’t to trash anyone’s headcanons, ships, or interpretations - it’s more about points of tension in the narrative, that clue us in to things going on beyond the story being told. Because at every given point, there is SO MUCH going on in Dracula.

And although this is my favourite sandbox and I could do this all day, to stop me from actually doing it all day, I’m just going to give an example of one character - the editor of the whole manuscript and everyone’s favourite Train Fiend…

Mina.

So, in what ways might Mina be unreliable?

Well, for a start, we are repeatedly shown that she is hyperaware of appearances, and concerned with how herself and those she loves might be perceived.

This isn’t me trying to paint her as an image obsessed bitch. It actually makes a lot of sense for her character - an employed, middle-class woman of the period, especially one who was entrusted with the education of other young women.

And our attention is drawn to this several times - the smearing of mud on Lucy and her feet to make it look like they’re wearing shoes, her thoughts about holding hands with Jonathon in London, even her insistence that they really did view old Mr Hawkins as a father-figure.

Mina cares how she is perceived. She does not want us to think negatively of her, or those she loves.

And she is the one who holds the major editorial pen in this narrative - everything we’re reading has allegedly passed through her hands.

So, where is a place that this fear of perception, and manipulation of perception might manifest?

So, it quickly becomes apparent that Mina has a number of very conflicted feelings about her place in society. A very specific gloss is put upon them at the level of the text (both in-world and by the author - but more of that later) but the dissonance remains.

Again, this is understandable, given that she is an intelligent woman of a shifting social class at a time of great social change. Her rant about the New Woman, and the apparent storm of tears that follow it, implies that this is tied up in her feelings and worries for Jonathon.

Now, I’m trying not to draw any inference here - although I have many theories - but I will say people rarely get that worked up about an unrelated thing unless there’s a deeper reason for it.

And while Mina repeatedly defines herself *against* the New Woman type, she does all the things a New Woman does: earning her own living, typing, shorthand, trying to write like a Lady Journalist. Even the long, vigorous walks come in to this.

What is more, she likes to be impressive. She repeatedly shows off her skillset of memory, organisation, typing in triplicate, short-hand, her understanding. She even states this at one point, justifying her behaviour by saying “some taste of the original apple remains still in our mouths” - again, framing her behaviour in femininity, even though what she is displaying is moves against stereotypical constructions of gender at that time.

So, perhaps one place that Mina is unreliable as a narrator is around her own femininity, and her comfort in her social role. She might, therefore, elide, gloss over, or re-contextualise anything that undermines any discomfort she has with het destiny as a wife-and-mother.

Which means we look for the cracks in that presentation- and there is evidence for them! A common argument is that there is a great frustration at the heart of Mina’s character. There she is, more driven, organised, and intelligent than most of the men around her… and stuck as an unpaid secretary. Like, yes, we all love the train-fiend thing, it’s adorable, but… also… c’mon. Memorising train tables is arguably the act of a woman who is being given far too small a stage on which to enact her life.

She presents herself as contented in that role , while evincing considerable evidence of being frustrated at - or at least conflicted over - it.

Meanwhile, the novel as a whole resolves with her firmly situated in an expanded version of the wife-and-mother role. Stoker closes the book with a voice other than her own, and a baby on her knee. And while it is absolutely a valid reading to take this ending at face value, it is also worth asking what prompted Stoker to end the novel with that postscript.

Because he, too, was a product of his time and place, and he also would have been grappling with the changing place of women in society. Mina is a construct, not a real person, and what does it tell us that the author felt it necessary to contain her in the role of ‘Natural Womanhood’ at the end of the book?

Especially as the vampires in this novel very clearly invert maternal roles by devouring children - indeed, Jonathon clearly delineates between Mina, a woman, and the ‘devils of the pit’ which are the female vampires at Dracula’s castle.

And it is from these various tensions that tropes like Vampire Mina, Divorced Mina, and the Mina/Dracula romance spring (and I could write a whole ‘nother thing about the role of romance as a substitute for intellectual/personal fulfilment, but… this is long enough without that). They are ways of following those cracks, and offering alternative readings, rather than forced denials of the text, or reading with a distinct agenda.

I love the surface story of Dracula - it’s a wonderfully compelling adventure - but the reason I love the book so very much is because there is always, always more, in every direction.

[colourstreakgryffin]

I have a request to make. Could I get a yandere Aoi Kanzaki with our darling reader who Carries an anaconda with her just like Obanai. (By the way I’m making this because no one uses Aoi)

Okay. I guess we are Jesus for being able to carry this gigantic snake on our body with no problem.

But anyway! Have never written Aoi before so can’t wait to see how it goes!

Yandere! Kanzaki Aoi

Aoi is tough-hearted, stubborn to her core, she does what must be done as much as she possibly can because she feels required to, but she never truthfully thought about herself. Only about others

That changes for good when you come into the frame. The Tsuguko of the Serpent Hashira, you flaunter a huge anaconda friend around your collarbone/shoulders so easily, it seems as if the beast of a serpent doesn’t weigh anything

You’re so kind and considerate, you help her with the chores, even whilst injured and you talk to her when you see fit. This kindness is injected into Aoi and directly manipulates her into thinking you love her as her crush grows and grows every single day she sees you

Her crush shifts into a obsession as she is obsessed with you and the way you treat her so kindly. You don’t want anything from her, you just want to be mutual friends with her and Aoi takes that reality as love. That you love her too

Aoi is the type of Yandere to pull a number of dirty deeds to ensure you’ll like her and her only. She’ll spread lies about your friends, she’ll trick you into spending more time with her and she’ll threaten your friends with murder if they don’t stay away

Aoi is like Shinobu in the sense; she will poison every medicine she gives you to help with your wounds to make you unwell, so you’ll stay longer and she can take care of you

Her brain is rotted with fantasies that distract her so much from her duties. She just wants to imagine about you everyday. She doesn’t care about her mediocre chores anymore, she just wants to be around you but you’re a talented slayer and she… isn’t

Aoi is openly possessive over you. She knows you better than anybody else and she does get hissy over people wanting to befriend you. Aoi is especially hissy over your master, Iguro as you treat him with such high respect and you get flustered around him

Aoi, now, has more than one rival. Both your pet anaconda and the Serpent Hashira(even tho, your crush on him is one-sided). She would try poison Iguro to get him out of the way but such a attempt won’t go well as Iguro can tell exactly when something is fishy with food or medicine as opposed to a snake

Aoi prioritises you over everything else in her entire list of duties she has. The tiniest cut she finds on you is taken care of to a extreme as she couldn’t picture a world without you in it so she makes extra sure that no wound can take you away

She can’t protect you in the way she wish she could but she can defend you in arguments, in which she does vigorously. She has a feisty tongue as sharp as a katana and she will happily talk down whoever tries to hurt your feeling

Aoi is beyond jealous over your anaconda friend. Why does a dumb big snake get your love but not her, somebody who does a lot for you behind you back. She gets enraged everytime she sees you play with your anaconda friend or kiss his forehead

She wouldn’t dare try kill him since you care too much for him and you’d be heartbroken. So, instead, Aoi poisons the food she brings for him so he’ll be sick and sleeping for long enough for her to swoop in and comfort you

Aoi will happily take your anaconda friend if you offer him to her but she’ll be glaring hate holes into his emerald-coloured coating behind your back as she wishes she could throw the snake out the window. Damn, disgusting brainless reptile taking the attention of the love of her life’s for himself

This hatred also extends onto Iguro. Aoi is very passive-aggressive towards him and mentions you a lot, trying to get him to admit that he likes you back but it never works as Iguro scares her off with his colder demeanour

She gets revenge by subtly messing up his stitches so the wound reopens again and he feels pain, but the way you run up to your master and check his now bleeding wound, then call out to the Butterfly Assistants for help has her fuming

Aoi wants you now. She is sick and tired of doing everything else for everybody else, she wants something to be hers for once and you’re the person of choice. She will have you, no matter what

“Dokusha-san. Don’t push yourself, if putting away the sheets is too much, just tell me. I can go get you some refreshments with painkillers and you can sit down and— n-no? Well… okay. Just be careful, please”

[gumnut-logic]

Under the beach tent

This one is for March of the OCs and @gaviiadastra​ It is not much, just a rambling scene that wrote itself. It doesn’t go anywhere or do anything, but it is Gordon and Sam and some friends and brothers.

Kermadec AU, after Minerva and before Kermadec Whales, but with no whales or dolphins involved (though I was tempted :D ) Also, I should add a warning for romance with Scott/OC, but they are really only scenery...much commented on scenery.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

“So, do you think they’ve forgotten we’re here?” Gordon took a sip of his mocktail and stared out into the surf.

“Who?” Sam had his foot up on the edge of the blow-up pool. His other foot was dumped on the sand to his left, lest it catch the plastic and put an end to their spa.

Well, it wasn’t really a spa. More of a kids inflatable swimming pool half buried in sand and topped up with a mixture of sea and hot spring water, courtesy of Raoul’s highly active volcano.

Gordon shifted where he sat, a smile curving around the bamboo straw in his mouth. “Oh, Scotty and Mel.”

Sam snorted. “Forgotten, no. I think they just think we can’t see them.”

The surf was on the calmer end of Oneraki Beach’s wave action spectrum. A simple solid swell, built somewhere near Tracy Island or Tonga beyond, that was rolling in at a regular beat. It was perfect for surfing and along with the equally perfect weather, had made up a perfect day to drop in on some friends.

Even Johnny had come down, and after spending sometime showing off in the body surfing stakes, was now snoring in Thunderbird One’s shadow.

Earlier Gordon had slipped past him and gently placed a large sun hat on his face.

Because he could.

The knocked-together spa Sam and Gordon were currently lazing in was also in One’s shadow. Not the most orthodox use of one of the world’s premiere rescue vehicles, but it did make a great beach tent.

Secretly Gordon thought Two made an even better one, but he was saving that line until he needed it. Had to have two elder brothers in the same room to get that argument up and running.

He grinned to himself nonetheless.

“You know, I really think she’s fallen for your big bro.”

Gordon arched an eyebrow at his friend. “You think so?”

Sam turned to look at him. “Well, it’s been, what, six months?”

A calculation in his head. “I guess.” Come to think of it, he wasn’t aware of Scott straying anywhere else during that time. Hadn’t even picked up any new phone numbers. Even those thrown at him.

“He’s been very patient.” Sam slurped his drink, an orange and purple concoction that Gordon was determined to try next.

“What do you mean?”

“You know. She’s been alone this long for a reason.”

Gordon frowned. “What reason?”

“Her job. The isolation. Her obsession with these islands.”

“She can be challenging. I’ll give you that. Only person I ever saw Dad back down from.”

“Really?”

“Yep. That was a day.” He grinned. “Why do you think he sent me to liaise when we moved in and didn’t do it himself?”

“Weren’t you like fourteen or something when you moved out here?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, Virg played escort.” He sucked on his straw. “Half the reason why she wanted to climb him like a tree.”

“Well, she’d climbing another one of your brothers right now.”

“I think I’m scarred for life.” He screwed up his face. Those two definitely thought they couldn’t be seen standing in waist deep surf and behind One’s fuselage. His brother was obviously distracted if he was making such a tactical error. Not that they were doing anything risqué, but they were definitely very involved with each other.

Gordon was happy for the both of them. They were both lonely and if they found something together, it couldn’t be anything but a good thing.

“How’s things with you and your ladyship?”

He glared at Sam. “Fine, thank you very much. And her name is Penelope.”

“Oh, it’s like that is it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Sam giggled.

“Shut up.”

“Why? It’s so entertaining to see you squirm.”

“Do I need to chat to Liam?”

“To what? Find out all our secrets?” He snorted. “Go for it.” Sam went back to his drink.

“God, no. I’m traumatised enough with those two out there.” He waved his hand in the general direction of his big brother and his scientist friend who were now attempting a mutual tonsillectomy.

“You should have invited her over. We would love to spend some time with her.”

“And what, tell her all my secrets?”

An arched eyebrow. “You have secrets?”

“What? I live on a secret island!”

“From which you launch rockets, on the Kermadec Ridge, one of the most seismically active and most monitored regions on the planet.”

“That’s exactly why we’re here! Camouflage!”

Sam grinned. “Calm down. I’m not after your secret stuff.” He twisted his lips. “Though you might want your genius engineer to double check that camouflage up against our latest sensors. I’m guessing it is Thunderbird Three that is messing with the readings.”

Gordon stared at him. “What?”

Sam took another sip of his drink. “Not worth panicking over. We only noticed it last week when the first of them were installed. Not one hundred percent sure, but worth checking. And before you think we’re into Tracy Island espionage, we just matched the readings up with the news reports. We think it’s Three, but I could be wrong.”

“Thanks.” It was a sobering thought.

“But today is a work free zone, so I’m changing the topic. Mel has probably reported it to your commander via Morse code on his uvula anyway.”

“Thank you for that gross image.”

“You’re welcome.”

Gordon stretched out in the water, wonderfully warm. The day was a beautiful one, but relaxing in volcanic springwater was something to be done down here at any time.

On his pile of dry sand, further under One, John snorted and rolled over, dropping the sunhat and face-planting into it.

Well, there was the benefit of wearing a sunhat in the shade. So kindly supplied by a younger brother.

Turning in the opposite direction of his sleeping brother, Gordon spied two figures finally returning from their walk up the beach.

Virgil had traded his usual flannel for a linen shirt and his jeans for swim shorts. Both arms were sporting the forearm crutches he still had to use in the wake of his leg injuries from months before. The crutches had been fitted with sand traction and he still seemed to be moving okay.

Scott had refused to let him wander up the beach alone with his camera, hence Alan walking along beside him.

It would have been Scott in Alan’s place, but a quick word to Mel had her distracting his overprotective brother.

Gordon had been prepared to go with, but Alan jumped in and off they went, Virgil muttering something about foliage, black sand, and colour contrasts.

Alan was likely to come back with a degree in colour theory.

But the two were talking animatedly and Virgil had that look that usually pre-empted his next series of amazing artwork.

Gordon found himself smiling.

“Looks like the plein-air partnership has returned. Give me a hand prepping their pool.”

“Sure, gimme two.” Sam reached over and grabbed his foot, sliding it smoothly over his stump and strapping it on.

Gordon clambered out of the warmth of the springwater and grabbed his towel. “Bucket duty time.”

The hot springs gushed naturally out of the sand at the top of the beach. The water was quite hot, so had to be mixed with a little sea water to lower the temperature to a comfortable level. Earlier in the day, the brothers, Sam and Mel had dug a couple of depressions in the sand, plopped in a couple of inflatable pools and filled them with a mixture of hot and cold water. Gordon loved to sit his butt in the mineral rich warmth. The steam coming off the beach was atmospheric - particularly on cold and cloudy days where it fogged up.

Today there was just a little steam and the sunshine. But the pools did need a little maintenance and for one of the thankfully few times in his life, Virgil wasn’t up for much heavy lifting.

So Gordon and Sam did the bucket carrying and by the time Virgil and Alan were within hearing distance, a fresh, warm bath awaited.

Virgil did look like he needed it.

Gordon had availed himself of these springs in the past for a very similar reason. It had been Sam and Virgil doing the shovelling and bucket carrying back then.

Out in the surf, Scott had turned and moved to where he could see the shore.

Gordon ignored him and hoped Mel could distract him back into tonsil hockey.

Virgil is fine. Take a break. Maybe get a room.

Apparently, Virgil was more than fine, the grin on his face fit to split something.

“Find yourself some pretty pictures?”

To Gordon’s surprise, it was Alan who answered. “You should see it, Gordy! So many coloured flowers against the black sand.”

Gordon stared at his little brother. Maybe Alan did get an art education on the beach. “Yeah?” He looked at Virgil.

“I found it inspirational.” Yes, there was light in his brother’s eyes.

“Great!” He gestured at the second pool as Sam emptied in a last bucket of hot water. “Take a load off?”

Virgil grunted, his shoulders dropping. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Both Gordon and Alan helped him down into the water, Alan talking about bindweed and pokey trees and birds the entire time.

It wasn’t often Alan took a lot of interest in wildlife, but apparently today it was the topic.

Gordon was hard pushed to hide the smile.

Second biggest brother now happily situated, Alan still babbling beside him, Gordon stepped up to the makeshift ‘bar’ - a storage crate from One’s cargo hold with a handful of mocktail ingredients stashed on it - and concocted a drink their resident artist would enjoy. He handed that and Alan’s favourite to his reclining brothers.

He then refreshed Sam and his own and returned to his little cocoon of lovely warm water.

Virgil relaxed back and sighed, drink in hand. “This is the life.”

Gordon held up his drink. “To Raoul and all her wonderful inhabitants and conveniences.”

Sam, who had plopped in beside him, again throwing his foot back onto the sand, held up his glass, paper umbrella and all. “To Raoul!”

Both Alan and Virgil shouted, “To Raoul!”

John rolled over onto his belly and began drooling into the sunhat.

Scott was now in even deeper water and much more distracted than even before.

Gordon couldn’t help but grin even more.

“To Raoul.”

-o-o-o-

[chungledown-bimothy]

Whenever we catch a glimpse of how Lou thinks about his character choices I become more obsessed. Every second is thought out. Of course we get some information in adventuring parties; he talked about Fabian in adventuring academy, but I’m mourning s1 Kingston behind the curtain peek that we never got��

fucking same.

it's all thought out so brilliantly, to levels that there's just not time in the seasons to really go into

and that's part of why i'm so excited about worlds beyond number- he's gonna have all the time in the world to methodically tear us all apart word by word

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Watchlist Tag Game!

Another unexpected tag game! This time from @waitmyturtles

Currently watching

A Boss and a Babe: Wasn't sure if I was going to watch this one because I'm not a huge fan of boss and subordinate as a positive romantic plot (looking at you GAP, sorry). But started watching it after seeing some of @respectthepetty's posts about Episode 4.

Bed Friend: If I were being accurate, I would have put this show down like four times in a row because I have rewatched all available episodes about four times, and honestly will probably watch the whole thing again. I love it so much, I do still think that Moonlight Chicken is my favorite show of the 2023 line up so far, but goddamn if I don't get overly attached to traumatized men.

Breaking Bad: Fun Fact! I have watched the first season of this show three times and never made it beyond that! So my friend set out to fix it and now we are trading one season of Breaking Bad for one show of my choice with a comparable number of episodes. Traded season one for Moonlight Chicken, and I'm trading season two and three for Word of Honor.

The Eclipse: Can't put my finger on why but for some reason I am obsessed with this show where the main character is a emotional repressed gay boy who has difficulty accepting himself and feels pressured to perform actions far outside what a teenager should be allowed to do because adults put pressure on him and because he doesn't want people to be disappointed in him...Anyway, with the Our Skyy 2 release date coming up how could I not rewatch this show I have already seen approximately six times?

The Eighth Sense: Have to thank @bengiyo for writing about The Eighth Sense, and everyone else that I follow that started watching this show immediately and started writing beautiful things about how queer it feels. It's my first Korean BL TV show (I did watch Wish You a few years back) and I am thoroughly enjoying my time so far!!

Unintentional Love Story: Don't have a lot to say about this show yet, I'm only two episodes in, but I think it's good so far!

Word of Honor: Rewatching this with my friend to try to get him to branch out of American television. I figured the costumes alone in this show would keep his interest, but let's be real, I was dying to see his reaction to my favorite little war criminal Wen Kexing who has done absolutely nothing wrong ever in his life, m'kay? This is my completely unbiased, objective opinion (do not look at my username).

Looking forward to watching soon

*ahem*

That is all...

...just kidding!

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves: Somehow, my tumblr blog accidentally turned into a primarily BL based blog, probably but actually before I was introduced to Word of Honor and then rapidly and descended into the Thai BL world from there (I know WoH is a cdrama, but I found KinnPorsche through a masterpost of queer asian media that was on the woh tag) my hyperfixation and truest love is playing Dungeons and Dragons. I've been in a campaign for 6 years now and recently started another campaign with another group! I wanted to see this movie when it came out but I had COVID and only now am freed from my self isolation! Heard it was good and fun and worth seeing in theaters so I am hoping to go soon!

Our Skyy 2: I just miss my boys, okay? I'm only human.

Only Friends: If the fact that I have watched KinnPorsche 14 times is anything to go by I love messy bitches, and this seems like a show full of messy bitches! Any show that requires a fucking flow chart to know their relationships to one another? I'm in! Also, I listened to the playlist that Jojo posted on Spotify and I was sold. This is definitely my most anticipated of 2023.

Still deciding if I’m gonna watch

Succession: I follow at least one person who has been posting a lot about Succession as the fourth and final season airs, and it sounds really good! I was actually convinced to start the first episode but I kinda fell off of it pretty quick. I think I was tired and I know like with any show the pilot is not the episode to judge something on.

Beef: Only putting this on here because I felt compelled to look it up in the tumblr tags today just to put some feelers out.

and that's it lol, I finsihed Shadow and Bone Season 2 and The Owl House so I don't really have any other shows that I am thinking about watching at the moment. If anyone who reads these block paragraphs has suggestions I'm all ears.

Well, anyone I was going to tag has been tagged by wmt so uhhhh, if you wanna do this game, take this as me officially tagging you!

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

12, 19, 22, 23

Thanks for the ask! :) Someone else asked me 12, 19 and 22 as well, so this is for both of you.

The unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them:

Emeldir! It’s not that she’s unpopular, exactly. She’s just a female character in the Silmarillion, and she doesn’t appear very often at that, so all of this gets her thoroughly ignored. But I think she’s fascinating and I wish more people talked about her. (Goodness knows fans devote plenty of time and attention to male characters more obscure than she is.) I wrote a longer post about her here. There needs to be more about Emeldir!

Speaking of obscure characters—not unpopular per se, just obscure—I feel like people should pay WAY more attention to Miaulë. We need to talk about Miaulë. I love him. I’m obsessed with him. I will not rest until the whole world loves him as much as I do. I have a similar soft spot for Tevildo, and I’ve even tried justifying his inclusion in the later mythology. Which goes double for Miaulë. All hail Miaulë!

You’re mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

I don’t really feel shame—I just enjoy things! But horrified? That’s different! Once I stayed up until literally 4am deciphering a manuscript from the LOTR movies written in the mode of Beleriand (but in English, it’s not like I actually know Elvish). Keep in mind that I didn’t read the mode of Beleriand at the time—I’m way more comfortable with the Sindarin mode and I’m alright with the Quenya mode—and I was like, “Oh, this page is in the mode of Beleriand! Well, that won’t stop me!” And I chose the middle of the night to do this?! Anyway, AFTER all that, I found a link to the transcription. But it was a fun challenge.

AND THEN I decided to read this other manuscript in the mode of Beleriand, Thorin’s letter to Bilbo (this one was written by Tolkien himself). It was even harder, because not only is it in tengwar, not only is it in the mode of Beleriand, the handwriting is also very difficult in parts AND the spelling is weird. I had so much fun. And then I was like, “What the fuck is wrong with me?” (Note: I didn’t read it with a copy of the letter in English to refer to. Oh, no. That would have been too sane.)

This was in 2020. I’ve only gotten worse since then.

Another time someone asked me, “There seem to be a lot of twins in Tolkien’s books—are there more twins in Middle-earth than in the modern world?” And then I, myself a twin, determined to answer this question definitively, made an Excel spreadsheet of all named Tolkien characters and what percentage of them are twins, and I found that the number of twins in Tolkien is about the same as we have now, or lower, depending on which characters you count. But it’s not higher! So now we know.

Another time I saw a post saying, “But are we SURE that all of Tolkien’s male Elves had long hair?” So I opened my PDF of LOTR and did a word search for “hair” and looked at all the examples. And then I opened my PDF of the entirety of HOME and did another word search for “hair” (there were over 400 mentions) and also “locks” and other synonyms, and then I looked at EVERY SINGLE ITERATION in order to prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tolkien’s male Elves have long hair. Because I’m insane, but I’m also right.

Another time I spent literally hours trying to calculate how long it would have taken Fingon to reach Angband on foot when he set out to rescue Maedhros, depending on how far he travelled each day, etc. We’re talking actual math here. Measuring distances on the map of Beleriand. Entering different variables. I was very dedicated.

Am I normal? No. Do I feel shame? Also no. Do I sometimes horrify myself nonetheless? Yes I do.

Your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores:

I love this question. It’s hard to answer because I have so many favorite parts of canon that most people ignore. (Like the entirety of the Lays of Beleriand.) Admittedly, whether this is part of canon is debatable because it’s from the Book of Lost Tales, but I absolutely love this part. For context, Ælfwine and his companions had been looking for Valinor for years and had almost given up hope of ever finding it, and then this happens:

Then none spoke for wonder and amaze, seeing deep in the gloaming of the West a blue shadow, and in the blue shadow many glittering lights, and ever more and more of them came twinkling out, until ten thousand points of flickering radiance were splintered far away as if a dust of the jewels self-luminous that Fëanor made were scattered on the lap of the Ocean… Then came there music very gently over the waters and it was laden with unimagined longing, that Ælfwine and his comrades leant upon their oars and wept softly each for his heart’s half-remembered hurts, and memory of fair things long lost, and each for the thirst that is in every child of Men for the flawless loveliness they seek and do not find. 

It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to read this without getting chills, or without it bringing tears to my eyes. The blue shadows? The lights? The music? The flawless loveliness they seek and do not find? Tolkien captures such a bittersweet feeling in this passage that it’s actually excruciating, because we can’t go there. What happens next is that Ælfwine leaps from the ship and goes to Valinor, and his comrades never see him again. The reader, like Ælfwine‘s companions, is left behind—allowed to see the Undying Lands for just a moment, but never able to go there. The feeling I get from this is very similar to the feeling I get at the end of LOTR, when we catch a glimpse of Valinor through Frodo’s eyes—but that’s it. And even though it makes me sad, I love it so much and I wouldn’t wish that it be written any other way.

A ship you’ve unwillingly come around to:

Alcarondas. I don’t like the fact that Ar-Pharazôn tried to make war on Valinor, obviously, but the ship itself was pretty cool. (Sorry for answering this in such a chaotic way, but I couldn’t resist!)

[wintogreen-reads]

Peter Darling by Austin Chant 

A queer, transgender retelling of Peter Pan in which Pan returns to Neverland after a decade in the real world. The Lost Boys say that Peter Pan went back to England because of Wendy Darling, but Wendy is just an old life he left behind. Neverland is his real home. So when Peter returns to it after ten years in the real world, he's surprised to find a Neverland that no longer seems to need him. The only person who truly missed Peter is Captain James Hook, who is delighted to have his old rival back. But when a new war ignites between the Lost Boys and Hook's pirates, the ensuing bloodshed becomes all too real - and Peter's rivalry with Hook starts to blur into something far more complicated, sensual, and deadly.

I was really obsessed with the idea of Peter Pan as a kid. I don’t know if it was the idea of having magic or living with a found family or the idea of never growing up, but something about him captivated me. When I watched Return to Neverland, I knew that I wanted to be like Jane. She had the shortest hair I had seen on a girl my age and she, despite her gender, became a lost boy (or for her, I suppose, the first lost girl). There was something about her that excited me and I didn’t know why. Flash forward a number of years and, to no one’s surprise, I’m transgender. 

I saw this book on my e library and was instantly drawn to it. The idea of Peter pan being trans hadn’t occurred to me but now I can think of him any other way. Beyond it just linking two things that are important to me, Peter being trans makes a lot of sense for the story. He is living in this utopia where he gets to act however he wants, free of parents and society and expectation beyond having fun. He wishes that he had a mother that wanted to care for him and he surrounds himself with boys who are otherwise outcasts from the real world. 

Peter’s being trans isn’t the central part of this story, but it adds layers to it that create a really cool tension between this retelling and the original story. I really like the way it was woven in and the fact that it warped the story in the way it did, having Wendy being the version of him his parents wanted. 

At the beginning, I didn’t quite know where the story was headed, but that was on me for not reading the description beyond  A queer, transgender retelling of Peter Pan. I think it took a little bit for the plot to shake itself out and become clear, but once it did, I was along for the ride. 

I really appreciated how the ending was handled. It felt purposeful how Peter’s transness was barely brought up and that Hook never once commented on it. 

Was this the most healthy relationship to ever exist? No, but I didn’t expect that as the dedication said something like ‘for everyone who’s ever seen themself as a villain’. 

Overall, a really interesting take on Peter Pan and I loved the way they delved into the magic of the island and how it sort of worked. I also really liked the descriptions of the fairies as insect-like, despite not at all being a fan of bugs. It really went well with the tone of the text. I wish we could have seen a tiny bit more about their inner thoughts in the wrap up at the end, especially them looking back at their time in Neverland.

I recommend this to anyone who wants a darker retelling of Peter Pan or to anyone who longs for the stories they grew up with to include trans characters.

[fortune-maiden]

Well that was quite the cliffhanger to end on!

Season 1 of El Internado is done! :D

It’s a fun show with some great characters and intriguing mystery even if it kinda throws everything and the kitchen sink at you at once and apparently takes place over a week? I’m choosing to ignore that and pretend it’s a month.

The show effectively follows three groups: the teachers, the teens, and the 5 year olds, the latter of whom are objectively the best characters and deserve the world. I love Paula & Evelyn and their friendship and innocent 5 year old view of the world, and how caring the adults around them are. Amelia really does seem like a great teacher, and just the way Jacinta and others all melt when it comes to the kids and cheering them up and going along with their games. They are so good even if Paula’s friendship with Gnome gives me many heart attacks because we know nothing about him.

But if Jacinta knows about him and isn’t hostile to him, I can believe he’s a good guy! He also saved Paula from the “Taxi Driver” and that’s the most important thing. That “Taxi” scene still haunts me.

Speaking of Jacinta, the trio of Jacinta, Maria, and Fermin is my favorite trio! I love all of their interactions and and relationships, and how much Jacinta & Fermin try to help Maria. Maria deserves the world.

Hector’s a pretty cool dude too, even if he really needs to get his personal life sorted out. Elsa’s a cheater so I’m definitely not rooting for this relationship but I do still feel a little bad for her and at the very least I don’t think she’s evil evil. Just an awful person but one who takes her job seriously. Given what I’ve heard about this show, I can’t discount that.

Pedro sucks though. No sympathy for him at all. Please run Amelia.

And Camilo................................................ I trust him as far as I can throw him right now. The teenagers should too if someone can find the brain cell among them.

And speaking of the teens... they are probably the weakest part of the show tbh. Not in terms of plot - the mystery is great and intriguing and I do like how active they are in finding answers rather than waiting for the plot to come to them. But as characters?

Marcos & Ivan are really the only ones with any depth and development, and a lot of that comes out with their interactions with more interesting characters outside of the friend group. Ivan’s two friends are just kinda there, and while it’s great the Carol and Vicky and so active in finding their missing teacher and largely moving things forward.... who are they and why should we care again?

Vicky seemed to be set up as the student with the closest relationship to Alfonso so it was weird that Carol ended up as the one most determined to solve the mystery. And while her determination is admirable... Carol herself kinda sucks.

We barely know anything about her. Why is she so obsessed with solving this mystery? What was her relationship with Alfonso? Why are her friends following her... why are they all even friends? This goes for the group in general. We get a lot of great scenes of Paula & Evelyn, and the adults and their social lives but we barely get anything for the teens. They’re a friend group because the show says they are and we never really get any fun, sweet moments between them.

I feel like the show would have been stronger if all the kids got sucked into the mystery for their own reasons like Marcos and grew closer together rather than starting off as an alleged friend group.

Also Carol’s actress is..... not good as whispering. Everyone is bad at this but I feel it’s especially bad with her. The sheer number of times a scene really looks like it should have the characters whispering between each other but instead has them talking at normal volume (or loud in Carol’s case) is laughable. How have the adults not caught on to what they’re doing yet? They talk about it out in the open! xD

Also...how is this school’s security so bad (beyond Hector refusing to hire a private firm) Kids are getting lost in the woods every night apparently - the woods that are repeatedly said to be dangerous and off-limits, yet the 5 year olds have regular field trips there, doors are never locked and the one time they are it’s used for attempted murder. And somehow Gnome is able to sneak into the school pretty regularly to see Paula and never gets caught.

Hector.... please get your school and your life in order. You may choose the order.

[unravelingthepages]

The Secret History- Reasons I loved it

Reasons I’m sleep deprived today- I stayed up till 2 a.m. finishing the last 200 pages of this book because I was incapable of putting it down. I absolutely blame the book. So, on to reasons why I was incapable of putting it down:

The Secret History by Donna Tartt is a book I am absolutely obsessed with and love. The characters were unlikeable, the vocabulary often required googling and the chapters were very long (I’m talking 100 pages long). But in spite of, or even because, of this, it was addictive. It has the feels of a modern classic and you’re completely immersed in the story to the point where you don’t look up for an entire hour (yes, this happened, please don’t ask).

The Plot

Under the influence of their charismatic classics professor, a group of clever, eccentric misfits at an elite New England college discover a way of thinking and living that is a world away from the humdrum existence of their contemporaries. But when they go beyond the boundaries of normal morality they slip gradually from obsession to corruption and betrayal, and at last- inexorably- into evil.

My thoughts

The starting of this read is intriguing to say the least. It’s foreboding and chilling and leaves you with high hopes. And at no point are you let down.

It’s not a thriller, per se, with sudden shocks and twists, but rather the college experience of a group of people that just so happens to involve the plotting of a murder, completing the deed and its aftermath.

“A month or two before, I would have been appalled at the idea of any murder at all. But that Sunday afternoon, as I actually stood watching one, it seemed the easiest thing in the world.”

This book is highly intellectual (I really hope that didn’t sound posh) simply because it requires you to think a lot. There are constant references to Greek myths and quotes in all sorts of languages that are taught as part of classics- Greek, Latin and such. Conversations about morality and beauty and aesthetics leave you questioning so much.

“There is nothing wrong with the love of Beauty. But Beauty—unless she is wed to something more meaningful—is always superficial.”

Our narrator, or Richard as is his name, is very aware he’s narrating a story, his story, and often reminisces in a way that leaves you dreading what is to come.

“I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.”

“There is foreshadowing and so much to the plot that the layers of the story have layers. There are hierarchies I didn’t even think to question until one of the characters decided to point it out. I think it’s possible for me to do this book justice only after re-reading it multiple times.

This is a story that leaves you immersed in the world of Hampden College, often dark and dreary, chillingly beautiful and compelling and seen through a dream-like haze like the narrator describes himself feeling at one point (he was under the influence of narcotics, but that’s besides the point). Its set in the 1900’s, in New England. There are six main characters that we get intimately familiar with, though we are introduced to a lot more in detail and with multiple interactions.

The characters appeal to you and are so so relatable but also, alternatively, repulsive and abhorrently unlikeable. There is no morally grey here, no morals I suppose, only a lot of practicality.

“It’s a terrible thing, what we did,” said Francis abruptly. “I mean, this man was not Voltaire we killed. But still. It’s a shame. I feel bad about it.” “Well, of course, I do too,” said Henry matter-of-factly. “But not bad enough to want to go to jail for it.” Francis snorted and poured himself another shot of whiskey and drank it straight off. “No,” he said. “Not that bad.”

And that’s another reason this book is itself appealing and haunting. It removes the morals and ideals most humans have and puts you in the mind of this character, who is so adaptable, often influenceable but also very aware of what is going on, sometimes at that very moment and sometimes in hindsight. One who is privy to the knowledge that what is going on is wrong but also somewhat enjoys it.

If I go down this rabbit hole of providing more quotes, I will never emerge back up because frankly, all 600 odd pages of this read are quotable. Most are undeniable truths. The most mundane of things are painted in a specific light, with specific emotions, that reel you in and keep you hooked. Maybe everything being romanticized in the book ties in with the narrator’s fatal flaw?

“Does such a thing as ‘the fatal flaw,’ that showy dark crack running down the middle of life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.” 

This, precisely, is what makes it such a layered book though. Because frankly, this thought did not even occur to me until writing this review. I think all I’ve accomplished by this post is an incredible desire to re-read The Secret History. I really hope you decide to pick it up too, because this book deserves the world.

If you're planning on purchasing this read, please consider using the following amazon affiliate link to purchase it. It would be at no extra cost to you and would really help me out, thank you!

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“It is is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially.” ― Donna Tartt, The Secret History

[cassatine]

I would love to know your ideas about Daemon/Rhaenyra and their deranged love!

Ongoing manifesto is [here]

that being said idk that’s a bit. too vague and open-ended a question. pls be more specific next time but for now:

They’re the same person in different bodies and they both looked at their mirror self and thought yeah I’d tap that?? And after ten years of separation, ten years of distance from the mirror self, the only one that truly understood them: I’d rather burn the world down I’d rather be feared than live without that again?? Heights of Targ psychosexual fuckery right there!!

They both subscribe to the idea that only dragon people are real people! Targaryen exceptionalism all the way for them. Why do you think even Rhaenyra’s love for Alicent did not translate to understanding or protection or anything beyond ‘love me fear me adore me’.

Not to deny the unhinged romanticism of the “meant to burn together” line but what I’m personally obsessed by is “they will fear what else we might be capable of”, like that’s their thesis statement and political program rolled into one and it’s hot as fuck. Also stupid as fuck, because that program hasn’t worked out that well for any dynasty in the long term, like, ever, but also: better burn together than keep on living a half life. Viserys called them “restless and chaotic” back when he first thought they’d shagged and really, he’d pegged them right. They tried normalcy (as much as feudal people with pet metaphorical nuclear weapons can be normal) and it turned out to suck ass — “happy enough”, says Daemon of his time with Laena (which, ouch), “droll tragedy”, says Rhaenyra of her life, of her years trying to play by the rules (also ouch). And they’d have gone back to it if not for each other — one spousal funeral reunion shag of tenderness and they were like “meant to burn together” never gonna be separated again!! No cost too dear!!

I get that the argument that they’re getting married for political reasons only get people’s hackles up, and lbr it is on the level of saying water is dry, but imo swinging the pendulum to the other extreme (nothing to do with the political at all) isn’t that much better in the end. It is a political partnership. Rhaenyra doesn’t say “with you as my husband and prince consort my claim wouldn’t be so easily challenged” for people to say that she hasn’t taken the political repercussions of a wedding into account. And whether Rhaenyra is really, really crap at maths or whether she’s fudging the numbers because she wants Daemon that bad (it’s the later, of course it’s the later), the fact is that she makes a political argument for their getting married. Sometimes people both want to climb each other and to be a political power couple steamrolling all opposition until everything explodes in their face (better have everything explode in your face than go through life like you’re already dead for one minute longer than needed).

Rhaenyra has it bad for Daemon, but she has it bad for the throne too. If she didn’t she’d cut her losses and they’d move to Pentos or wherever, and she is very much not gonna do that. They love each other insanely, but they love power too.

Laenor is a darling and we love him but by ep7 it’s kinda obvious that while Rhaenyra does like him she’s been disappointed in him as a political partner for a while (ftr it’s understandable that he’s flaky, what with the trauma of what happened re: Joffrey). He gives her the ‘ready to commit now’ speech and for ten years she’d have had to take it even with no way to know whether Laenor would follow up on it, because she had no other option, but alas for him he gives her the speech after Daemon pops up, freshly single, while the situation with Alicent and the Greens hits No Return Point, and Rhaenyra says: actually yes I deserve a husband that supports me, a political partner I can actually trust to look after my interests, one who will kill a bitch for me, and that ain’t you.

She didn’t free Laenor!! It’s not a victory for the gays!! She functionally exiled him because she chose Daemon over him. She told her husband and friend of ten years to fuck off to Essos and never come back and let his family believe him dead because her mirror self was back and it’s her mirror self she wants. Let her and Daemon be selfish on that one instead of dressing it up as a victory for us queers.

Everyone goes on about Rhaenyra having a case of gender, and she sure fucking does, but you know who else does? Fucking Daemon, that’s who. Viserys says he’s the Visenya of the family. He straights up wields Visenya’s sword. He was sent off to Runestone where his wife was in charge, and where all that would have been expected of him was to do the do and bring forth some heirs, which in Westeros is what's expected of women (also he’d obv. have resented being married to a normie and not another Targ, because only dragon people are real people), and being a cursed mix of extreme insecurity and overblown dragon pride he simply couldn’t handle any of it, hence the extremely unhappy wedding with Rhea, but also his tendency to overperform masculinity à la westorosi (violence). And yet he’s gonna fucking kneel to Rhaenyra!!

Daemon is literally going to crown her!! I am the crown (I am the realm) she told Criston and what’s the one title Daemon will take? Protector of the Realm. He’s going to die for her!! Fighting her war!! Just like Rhaenys died fighting Aegon’s war!!

Ok. Look. Wherever canon goes — at the end of the day some people see incestuous legacies fuckery and like clockwork they go, oh the latest generation has to fuck and do it in full ancestors cosplay while insistently calling each other by familial relationship terms, and they have to make it weird for everyone else, and they also have to kill a lot people to maintain their grasp on power, and by some people I mean me.

[pastelwitchling]

Wonderwall 1/5

Alex thinks his vampire need for blood is under control... until he meets Michael Guerin, who he suspects isn’t human either.

***

               Alex thought he’d gotten pretty good at controlling his urges. After a hundred years of managing to get by on animal blood and sips of human blood here and there, donated freely and willingly by his brothers, he thought he’d cast aside the murderous bloodlust for good.

               It wasn’t that Alex was a serial killer or anything, though he knew his kind had a reputation for that name. Hell, when he’d been turned a century ago he’d thought that was the end of his humanity. And for a while it had been. But being a vampire really wasn’t so bad when you overlooked the continual low grumble of hunger. Though he supposed ‘Edward’s obsession with Bella actually just came down to her nice perfume’ probably wouldn’t have made Twilight so popular.

               It didn’t matter. The point was he’d been managing fine, he really had. If even in New York, with clusters of humans pushing you up against buildings from the sheer number of them alone, was Alex able to keep his urges under complete control, every other place in the world should’ve been nothing to worry about. Nothing to tempt him.

               That really was why, when he’d decided to come to Roswell to visit his adopted “older” brother, Gregory, after he’d taken a nasty shot to the stomach at the end of his military service, he hadn’t expected to catch a scent more alluring than a French bakery. He hadn’t expected to need and crave as he’d never needed or craved before. He hadn’t expected to fall so hard and so quickly for a small town cowboy. But he did.

               And he was sure of one thing; the person he’d fallen for was not human either.

               But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let’s start at the beginning, when our handsome hero, or whatever it was vampires were supposed to be in these kinds of stories, sat in a bus on his way to Roswell, New Mexico. He head his temple against the cold glass pane of the bus window, a phone in his hands as he responded to a text from one of his brothers.

               We should probably start with the whole “brothers” bit. See, back when Alex had first been turned, his first victim had been his father. Don’t feel too bad for Jesse Manes though, because whatever he presented to the outside world, he had not been a good man. In fact, Alex was sure that had he never turned, his father’s scars would never have faded.

               But then he’d found out that his great uncle, Tripp Manes, had had more descendants, and just by chance, having come to visit his mother’s old reservation, he’d come across one of them on leave from his military service. He’d never planned on revealing himself to Gregory, but it seemed Alex’s great uncle had found out about Alex and passed down instructions through the generations. Gregory had been ready for him when he’d arrived. They all had.

               They could’ve attacked him, they could’ve trapped and killed him, but they’d welcomed him like the younger brother they’d been waiting for. Even though he was much older than the rest of them. Still, the town saw him as the youngest of the four, so what was what he had become.

               And now, as Gregory texted him from his hospital room in Roswell, Alex couldn’t help but think of his older brother’s words to him on their last call. Alex had joined the military himself at some point in his life, part of him hoping the career would kill him. But that wasn’t what happened. Instead he’d lost a leg, and not even being a vampire could give him back a limb.

               Still, he understood better than most how much the military could take away from you, and he’d wanted his brothers out of it as soon as possible. Clay and Flint were beyond hope, for they had too much of an attachment to be the Manes Men their own father had wanted—a phrase Alex had been mortified to find out had been passed down as well from Jesse Manes himself.

               But Gregory was different. Gregory was most like Alex, and he’d wanted to get out, too. He’d promised him on their last call that this would be his final op. Alex should’ve known not to feel any relief. He’d lost his leg on his final op, too.

               Luckily, as the bus came to a stop and Alex descended, Gregory reassured him once again that the shot had not been fatal and that he was already starting to feel better. Alex typed out a response that he’d just gotten to town when he spotted it. Even after a hundred years, he knew when his father was around.

               Looking up at a century-old statue, Alex regarded the saluting Jesse Manes in his Word War I uniform. Moss grew on the dais where his father stood, the stone even softer than his actual father’s expression had ever been. When Alex had first come to this town and seen this commemoration, he’d thought he would find any excuse to avoid it. He’d thought he’d ravage the town for daring to display Jesse Manes as anything resembling a hero.

               Instead, he’d stared at it then as he was staring at it now, not quite knowing how to feel. Even after all these years, he felt no self-satisfaction or pride knowing what he’d done to his father. He felt no peace, no joy, no nothing. If anything, he felt bothered. Bothered now as he had always been, because even now he felt like his father was able to look down on him, as though to say, You see? I always knew what you were was disgusting and evil. Now the outside looks like the inside.

               He’d been unnatural in his father’s eyes long before he’d turned, and every day he looked in the mirror (yeah, that whole vampires not appearing in mirrors thing was a stupid myth, Alex had no idea where that even started), it felt like his father glaring back at him.

               Alex pressed the base of his palm to his eye, trying to push aside his flood of thoughts. He was here to see his brother, look after him until he was back on his feet, and then head back to New York where his first hometown couldn’t haunt him.

               That was when he smelled it. It was actually more a feeling than a smell, a feeling that shook his entire body. A warmth that suddenly spread from the nape of his neck down his spine and strangely made him shiver.

               He looked up, not knowing how he knew where to look exactly, but his eyes knew, as if this unprecedented hunger was guiding him.

               That’s when he saw him.

               A man rounding the square in his rusted blue truck, the black cowboy hat on his head doing nothing to hide his wild curls. Alex’s hypered senses were relentless as they drank in every detail of this man. His grease-stained green flannel was halfway undone, revealing his hairy chest, his nails were dirty with grime, and his jaw was covered in stubble that revealed the smirk lines that were usually around his lips.

               Alex exhaled shakily and stepped back, hugging his stomach.

               “W-What’s happening to me?” he murmured. Then, as if he could hear him across the square, the cowboy who had been at a stop sign, looked up. Their gazes met and a lump lodged in Alex’s throat. His stomach grumbled.

               Did anybody else smell rain?

               The stranger held Alex’s gaze hostage, and even from where he stood, Alex saw hazel with specs of gold that made the hunger in Alex’s stomach consuming. He felt like there was a black hole, swallowing him from the inside. He hugged his stomach tighter and took another step back, and the stranger narrowed his eyes, surprised and curious. He was holding up a string of other cars behind him but he didn’t seem to care, his attention caught on Alex as Alex’s was caught on him.

               Alex held his eyes. He didn’t like using this trick, but he was getting frustrated now. Let go, he thought, commanded, with all his strength, but Michael only stared. Then he smirked, and Alex stumbled back another step.

               “What the hell . . .?” he forced himself to turn around, and, only thinking of his grumbling stomach, he hurried away. He didn’t dare check over his shoulder until he was standing at Roswell Medical’s front doors.

               Rubbing his stomach, Alex made his way up to the front reception and blamed his still growling stomach on the scent of blood all around him.

               “Wow,” the nurse at the front desk said. “Someone’s hungry.”

               “Oh,” Alex nodded, swallowing thickly, the look in that cowboy’s eyes glued to the forefront of his mind. “Mm.”

               “Here,” her kind, wrinkled face smiled as she passed him a granola bar. “It’s not very good, but it is filling.”

               Alex’s hunger dulled down to a low throbbing, and he huffed a chuckle that felt more like relief than anything else. “Thanks.”

               “You visiting someone, sweetheart?”

               “My brother,” Alex said. “Gregory Manes?”

               The nurse gave him Gregory’s room number and floor, and Alex was at his doorway in under two seconds. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him arrive so quickly, and stepped inside to find Gregory sitting against his headboard, talking to his doctor. When he saw Alex, his smile widened.

               “Alex!” he said, pulling him into his arms. Alex hugged him back tightly, and though he knew his skin was frozen to the touch, Gregory held him like he was a great source of warmth for him.

               “So this is the famous Alex Manes,” the doctor smiled.

               “Yes,” Alex read the stitched name on his coat. “Dr. Valenti. How’s my brother?”

               “I already told you I’m fine,” Gregory said.

               “He is,” Dr. Valenti supplied.

               “And right on time for my enlistment.”

               Alex’s smile felt brittle. “When do you get your paperwork?”

               “Few weeks,” Gregory said, “but it’s pretty much official. Full honors.”

               “Thank you for your service,” the doctor said politely.

               “No need,” Gregory and Alex said at the same time, and Alex hugged Gregory’s shoulders just a little tighter.

               “Bro, I’m okay,” Gregory chuckled. “I promise.”

               “Oh good, you’re awake,” a woman with blonde hair popped in. She had a beautiful smile and looked from Gregory to Alex to the doctor. She came in with a basket of apples. “Kyle told me you like the red ones, Greg. And you know what they say! An apple a day keeps the hot doctor away!” Her smile widened and she kissed her doctor’s cheek—or Kyle’s. “Hence why I don’t eat them.”

               “Is!” Kyle pretended to complain, even as his cheeks reddened and his smile poked through.

               “Thanks, Isobel,” Gregory said. “Alex, this is Isobel Evans. She’s a friend from high school, and so is Kyle. Guys, this is my little brother Alex.”

               “Alex,” Isobel’s smile was infectious. “That’s so weird, I don’t remember you from high school!”

               “Er—” Alex shared a glance with Gregory. “I was homeschooled. Got sick a lot.”

               “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” she said sincerely. “You’re even prettier than Greg said!”

               She smelled like lilies, and her pulse was quickening. Something about her made Alex’s stomach grumble again. It wasn’t as bad as before, but it did leave Alex’s throat clogged. He swallowed thickly.

               “Thanks,” Alex said, trying for a smile though he was sure it came out more as a grimace.

               Kyle and Isobel must’ve mistaken Alex’s expression for something else because Kyle pointed at Isobel and said, “Oh, don’t be afraid of Isobel, she’s harmless.”

               But not human, Alex thought. He didn’t know what else Isobel could be, but he was sure of it as he’d been sure of the stranger in the truck.

               “Hey,” Gregory leaned in and murmured, “have you eaten?”

               Alex mustered a genuine smile this time, though he felt the furthest thing from it. He didn’t think Gregory knew about Isobel, and he didn’t have any way of explaining why his hunger had been triggered so badly today. He couldn’t tell his brother any of that here, and definitely not while he was still in a hospital bed.

               “Yeah,” Alex murmured, putting a hand on Gregory’s shoulder. “I’m just worried about you. You sure you’re okay?”

               Gregory nodded, but looked unconvinced. Alex offered Kyle and Isobel a smile, and Isobel all but swooned.

               “I’ll just go get you something from the cafeteria,” he said, then to Kyle, asked, “He can eat, right?”

               “Yeah,” Kyle said kindly, and Alex had a feeling that was how he said most things. “He can eat anything.”

               “Oh!” Isobel gasped. “Speaking of eating, Alex, you should come with us to dinner! My brother Michael’s coming, and he always whines about feeling like a third-wheel.”

               “That,” Kyle said dully, “and Guerin really doesn’t like me.”

               “That, too,” Isobel conceded cheerfully.

               “He has a different last name?” Alex asked, if only to distract himself from the hunger. Maybe he really should eat something.

               “Foster brother,” Isobel explained, and Alex nodded.

               “Great,” Alex said. “Well, I—I should be free tonight. It’s probably better if I get to know Greg’s friends while I’m here anyway.”

               “How long are you staying?” Kyle asked.

               “Just until Greg’s better,” Alex said, and Gregory’s smile softened. Alex patted his concerned brother’s shoulder one more time before he excused himself down to the cafeteria, needing to get away from Isobel and whatever that hunger was.

               He had only wanted to take a breather, get away from the scent. He’d been in hospitals and around blood plenty of times before, and he’d never felt an aching hunger like this. What was happening to him? Was it just Isobel’s effect?

               Alex’s answer came when he rounded the corner of the narrow stairwell and saw none other than the cowboy with the black hat coming upstairs as Alex came down. Alex froze and upon sight of him, so did the cowboy.

               Alex could hear his own trembling breath in his ears, the hunger suddenly hitting him like an axe to ice. Alex stumbled back, but his leg caught the stair above him, and he fell. Or he would’ve, if the stranger in front of him hadn’t jumped up the last few steps and caught Alex around the waist.

               Alex had never stumbled or tripped, but this man had some kind of dangerous effect on him.

               The hunger was almost blinding now, and Alex was engulfed very quickly in heat and rain.

               “You okay?” the stranger asked, his breath warming Alex’s lips. Alex shut his eyes tight, his hands shaking, but nothing was enough to keep his fangs from sharpening, sensing blood nearby.

               “Hey,” the stranger murmured, and Alex could feel him moving closer. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He brought a hand to Alex jaw, his fingers brushing his cheek with a featherlike touch that had Alex’s senses overwhelmed, his jaw clenched as he tried to control his fangs, his need for blood. No. Not just anyone’s blood. This man’s blood.

               “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered. He had Alex held tight against him, tighter than he needed to be held, but the stranger wasn’t letting go. He made no move to.

               Alex was too aware of the stranger’s fingers stretching across his lower spine, his chest as it rose and fell against Alex’s own, his green eyes piercing Alex’s skin, trying to read his mind, to understand why this stranger seemed afraid of him.

               But it wasn’t fear Alex felt. It was want.

               “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

               Alex opened his eyes slowly, his hands on the stranger’s arms. His nails sharpened despite him, digging into the cowboy’s shirt, but the cowboy didn’t seem to mind, his eyes fixed on Alex as surely as Alex’s were fixed on him.

               Before he knew what he was doing, before he could tell himself that he didn’t do this, that he wasn’t a monster, he said in a low, gravelly voice, “But I might hurt you.”

               The cowboy looked startled when Alex pushed him back against the tiled wall, his grip tight and bruising. He knew his fangs looked as sharp as they felt, and only when he leaned in to nuzzle the stranger’s neck, reeking of sweat and grease and rain and making Alex’s arms shake, did the stranger think to gasp in shock.

               “W-What’re you . . .”

               “Shh,” Alex said softly, trailing the tip of his nose from the cowboy’s jaw down to the base of his neck. “You . . .” he groaned, “smell so . . . good.”

               The cowboy chuckled nervously. His hands had yet to leave Alex’s waist. “First I’ve ever h-heard that—ah!” he cut off with a moan as Alex dragged his tongue along the column of his strong neck, the taste of his sweat making heat pool in Alex’s gut. His stomach grumbled loudly enough that it sounded like a growl.

               Alex was going to die. If the cowboy had shoved him away, it would’ve been easier for Alex to run, to find an excuse to vanish, to stop needing. But he wasn’t letting Alex go either, his eyes shut as Alex licked his neck, just over his pulse point, again and again and again.

               Then the stranger groaned, nails carving into Alex’s waist, and Alex was yanked out of his thoughts. He pushed back from the cowboy, heaving, his face flushed.

               The cowboy still had his arms out to him, eyes still closed as he panted heavily against the wall, head hanging back, his damp neck exposed to Alex. Alex had to get out of there.

               “I’m sorry,” he whispered, breathless, stumbling back.

               “Wait, don’t—don’t . . .” the cowboy tried, but seemed to be too out of breath himself to straighten, let alone stop Alex.

               Alex swallowed thickly, unable to think of anything but his hunger. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, and he turned and ran away, leaving the cowboy and his protests behind him.

***

Am I really doing this? Yes. Yes, I am. This story will consist of five chapters, ending on Halloween 🧛🏻‍♂️👽🎃