#he’s taking a page out of Dracula’s book and he’s getting away with it

[ardentinwoe]

The one who walks with Fiends

[vickyvicarious]

Honestly, I think it could be very impactful if Van Helsing did die in the graveyard tonight. It'd continue the trend of people taking any direct stand against Dracula being killed almost casually in return. Up the stakes even more. Maybe he could be found the next morning on a grave with his neck broken, a look of fear or defiance on his face - a reminder of Mr. Swales's death.

Jack would get the note and then find him or hear about him being found in the graveyard. The suitors would arrive thanks to the note the Professor sent them and they'd link up with him. I imagine they would go together anyway, though more expecting to support a Jack who is wondering if it can be real after all or if it was just madness before he was murdered somehow. They would all learn just how true it is together, would have to save each other and then follow the directions left to them. Or possibly seek out the Harkers first and then they might be involved in the Bloofer Lady staking. That would be a good moment of horror too, Mina seeing Lucy like this...

When the groups united they'd have to do research of their own, or go through the documents left behind by Van Helsing. Books of fairy tales and superstitions, pages with scattered notes, comparing them to the diaries...

Thematically, it would fit pretty well with all the other deaths around this part of the book. The parents are all dead and gone. And while Van Helsing is not a parent to anyone here, he was a mentor and guide to Jack in particular. He would join in with the others who now are orphaned/have to figure things out themselves. Jonathan has inherited the responsibilities of a law firm, Arthur has inherited the title and all that goes with it, Jack would inherit Van Helsing's final task.

There would be more collaboration in general (rather than all mostly following) and more leadership emerging from Mina, probably. None of the suitors are going to be as ready to take the lead in this situation, at least not as totally as Van Helsing. Of course, issues with her being left behind probably aren't going to just totally go away. But I imagine less so, or in a different way. Along the way I think there could be more moments for Arthur or Quincey to shine as well, stepping in at different points where originally Van Helsing took the floor.

The end of the story, where everyone splits up three ways, would have to be changed somehow, of course. Either someone has to go alone, or they have to ignore one route entirely. But I think that might be the biggest actual plot change you'd find completely necessary. Other than what happens to Mina, of course. I do think Dracula would still go after Mina somehow, even if she went with them to examine his boxes. But maybe they wouldn't get to the point of doing so as quickly until they collated all their info. Maybe things happen slower, maybe what happened the final night (Jonathan hypnotized into sleep right next to him) would happen more often. Oh, I guess the other change might be no one to hypnotize Mina while spying, unless this is some skill Quincey happens to have or whatever. But then, Jack seems familiar at least with the theory, so maybe he could make an attempt at it.

I mean, there's no reason you would have to stick that closely to the original story. But for the most part I think you could if you wanted, and it would just be a different tone that would still be really powerful. And it would be kind of interesting to have Van Helsing's role be limited to failing to save Lucy throughout. Hiding information right up until he tries to share it, after which he dies. That phrasing makes it sound really brutal, but... I mean it would kind of be brutal, but his legacy would be bringing the two groups together, showing them the truth (or confirming it as the case may be) and entrusting them with the future.

[luveline]

Hi Jade, congratulations on 40k! Absolutely amazing!!!

For the celebration, may I request '𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤' — with Eddie & the phrase"I don't feel good", either Eddie or Reader didn't eat much throughout the day?

Thanks so much!! 💜

luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you! —eddie feels suddenly unwell after a long day with little to eat. you step in when he almost faints to take diligent care of him. fem!reader, 1.8k

"Hello, gorgeous." 

Eddie flinches at your appearance but quickly softens, pushing his book aside to open his arms to you. "I should be saying that to you!" he says, standing and squeezing you tight enough to force the breath from your chest in a rough laugh. 

"Wayne let me in, I swear." 

"I forgot you were coming," he says. Apologetic, he stops hugging you so tight and ends the embrace with your face in his hands. "Lucky me. It's like going to sleep December first and waking up on Christmas Eve, babe." 

He puts a piece of scrap paper between the pages of his book and hides it away on the nightstand. "Help me make this bed," he says. 

You're smiling just looking at him, rounding the bed to stand at the end while he moves near the top. You help him shake out the unmade comforter, straightening his blanket with a flourish. He beats the pillows into submission. When he's leaning forward you creep back behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face to his spine. You can feel the notches. 

Eddie smells different. Like himself, you're not sure what it is, probably a mixture of skin and detergent and nothing special, but today there's a trace of cigarette smoke.

"You've been smoking in bed?" you ask, surprised. 

"How do you do that?" he asks, covering your arms with his and bending further forward under your weight. 

"Are you okay?" you ask instead of answering. 

"I'm fine. I've been dreadfully, woefully lazy today, babe. Like, totally sedentary, that book is kind of amazing." 

You curl around his waist to look at the cover. "The Shining," you read, trading the faces of the family stacked on the front. "By the guy who wrote Carrie? You love that one." 

"It's amazing." Eddie puts his arm behind your shoulders to usher you forward, holding you under his arm instead. Half-hugging, he kisses your cheek. 

You kiss him properly.

He receives gladly, though he steals the lead and leaves you reeling for a split-second. Funny how he can kiss you stupid in sloppy pyjamas, chipped nails digging into your hips. You don't care that he forgot you were coming over when he's this happy to see you.

"I think we should get takeout to celebrate you being so cute," you say, to his delight. "You can shower while I go find out what Wayne wants, and you can read your book after dinner." 

Eddie smiles, hides it, says, "No, I wanna see you, that's why you're here." 

"I'll still be here." You shrug. "I'll borrow your copy of Carrie and we can read together. I don't mind, I just wanted to be in the same room as you." 

He grabs you for stupid kisses smushed up into your neck until you're warm from being held. Fierce, you usher him away to the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen. You and Wayne are good at talking now and things are blissfully comfortable, a yellow menu for the Three Dragons spread out over the table as you make a list. Wayne orders, and upon seeing the mess of takeout menus they keep in one of the drawers under the cutlery drawer, you make it your mission to help him recover some space until Eddie's out of the shower. 

Eddie's quick. He appears dressed and dark-haired, scrubbing a towel over his face. Wet, his hair twists but doesn't coil. 

"That's better, dracula," Wayne says, dragging a lighter off of the edge of the window sill. "You look human. I'm going out back to smoke." 

Eddie sits on the couch and you slink from the kitchenette to be closer to him, sitting on the arm next to him. You can't deny the temptation of his curls, separating them with your fingers and brushing down. They're cold and long, kissing the space between his shoulder blades. 

Eddie doesn't say much. You're unnerved quickly; it's not like him to brood, especially after such a good hug before his shower.

"You okay?" you ask gently, fingertips trailing through his hair lazily. 

He curls inward. Not away from your touch but into a ball, of sorts, his back curved. "I don't feel good," he confesses, his voice brittle as sugar paper.

You lean forward with him as you had earlier, following him into his defensive position. "Baby?" 

"I feel sick," he says. 

Eddie loves complaining and you love to hear it, but not when his voice wobbles. Concerned but keeping your cool, you slide off of the arm to kneel in front of him, carding the damp sheet of his hair where it hands like ivy behind his ear. 

"You look pale." You stroke his hair, though there's nothing left to tuck. "How sick do you feel, Eddie? Like you could throw up?" 

"It's not like that." 

"Have you eaten anything today?" you ask. 

You know the answer before he shakes his head. 

Telling him off is instinctive, but it won't help, and you realise you're not interested in scolding him. You turn his face to yours. "Sitting forward will make you feel sicker. Sit back, and I'll get you something. Don't look so worried, baby, I'm sure it's just low blood sugar. Cool?" 

He smiles weakly. "You're right." 

Eddie sits back into the couch cushions and pulls one over his stomach, holding it there. The heat of his shower wouldn't have helped, and if he hasn't eaten it's possible he could faint. Luckily he'd seemed alert if miserable, so you step over his feet to try and fix him before he feels worse. It's weird rooting through their cabinets, but it's for Eddie's sake. You'll be forgiven.

You return with a sleeve of saltines, a couple of dark chocolate chip cookies, and a glass of apple juice. It's the concentrated kind from the grocery store full of bad bad things, but he needs sugar, and it's chock full of it. 

"Here you go," you say, sitting on the couch next to him. He's grey like dirty snow, eyes a touch glassy. "Do I need to call Wayne in?"

"No," he says, sitting up to accept your offered juice. "I'm okay, just felt real shitty real sudden." He skulls the juice to the sounds of your protesting and accepts a cookie, crumbs trickling down his lap as he snaps it in half. 

You wipe them away. 

"We got your usual from the Three Dragons, it'll be here soon, but I can make you something else? Or, you had eggs in the fridge, I bet Wayne would make you one of his nice omelettes." 

Eddie swallows his mouthful, head shaking. "I'm okay." 

You're not sure if you should believe him, your hand on his thigh rubbing up and down and up again, waiting for his skin to flush. He hadn't looked so sallow when you first arrived. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you to shower on an empty stomach."

Eddie rubs at his head. There's agitation in the action, but none of which is directed at you, proven by the soft cadence of his voice when he says, "What are you sorry for, dummy? You didn't know. I'm sorry for being dramatic." He again leans back against the couch, his face parallel to the ceiling but his eyes watching your face. He's handsome even when he's poorly, the subtle bob of his Adam's apple accompanying a rough confession, "I didn't mean to scare you, I just don't think I've felt like that before." 

You reach up to draw a line along the cliff of his jaw, straight across and then down his neck. "Did you eat much yesterday? Maybe you're running low." He closes his eyes. You're still worried about him, clearing your throat. "You don't feel faint, do you? Does your head hurt?" 

"A little bit." 

You rush back to the kitchen for a glass of water. Wayne wars with the back door as you're filling it up, and his eyebrows hike when he sees the look on your face. "Everything okay, kid?" he asks. 

"Eddie's feeling freaky." 

"D'you eat?" Wayne calls. 

Eddie groans. You give Wayne a grim frown. 

"I'll make him a sandwich," Wayne decides, heading for the fridge. 

"Don't!" Eddie whines. "The food's coming any minute, I'm good! I was having a moment, just want attention." 

You laugh and loop back to him, tucking your legs under you as you sit and press the glass of cold water into his hand. 

"There are much better ways to get some attention," you tease. 

"But this way was so much fun," he drawls, monotone. 

You pet his hair as he drinks the water, appreciation mixed with a reverent, aching love in the way he tilts his head to your touch. 

"I feel better already," he says, holding the glass to his neck. 

You lift up to kiss the skin adjacent to his eye. "Good. Take it easy, Eds. You can't finish your book if you pass out." 

Wayne makes Eddie a sandwich and insists Eddie eat it, though your boyfriend argues that it'll ruin his takeout. "Should've thought about that when you skipped breakfast and lunch, then, idiot," Wayne says, putting an end to it swiftly. 

Eddie perks up halfway through his sandwich, and when the takeout comes, Wayne doesn't make him suffer through the second half. You eat, watch TV, and everyone survives the night. After cleaning up some, you and Eddie curl up in pyjamas together while he reads and you pretend, staring at the side of his face. 

His cheeks turn rosy the longer your gaze lingers. "I'm fine," he says quietly. "Just stupid." 

You squeeze his arm. "As long as you're okay. Tell me if you feel sick again, okay?" 

He closes his book around his fingers. 

"I'll tell you," he says, still quiet. Then, with a breezier tone, he reaches back with his hand to tangle your fingers and says, "I gotta thank you for being you. I didn't freak out 'cos I knew you were there, and, like, I know how lucky I am that I felt that way." 

You drop your jaw. "Woah, that is so sincere!" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes your hand away. "Dork." 

You crawl into his lap and hug him. He deserves a hug, for being sick and for being honest. If you're heavy he doesn't say a word, hugging you for a handful of minutes that stretch long and slow. "I'll get off you," you say, making little efforts to move. Eddie doesn't bother either. 

"I need you there, you stop me from getting sick," he says. 

You don't believe it for a second, but it's nice. Eddie reads around you, his arms looped through yours, his book perched on your shoulder as you nestle into the curve of his neck. 

[serial-serializednovelreader]

It's crazy to me that people call Jonathan a himbo, he's so methodical and clever! It makes sense that Mina would be attracted to someone bright too

Yes, anon, you’re so speaking my language!!! I do wish people would stop calling Jonathan a himbo because — nothing against himbos — but Jonathan is not one of them! And yes, it totally makes sense that Mina would attracted to someone as clever as him, and since she’s also so smart, I’m sure the feeling is mutual.

Before y’all come shouting in my inbox “what do you have against himbos??” and “Jonathan is totally a himbo, what are you talking about?” Let me clear things up:

First of all, I love himbos!!! Kronk from Emperor’s New Groove — peak himbo, imo — is one of my favorite characters. Am I attracted to them? Well…no. As you can probably tell from my last Nova’s Notes, I’m more the kind of person who’s attracted to cleverness or when people nerd out. BUT I cherish himbos for all of their wonderful qualities and if I ever get the opportunity to meet one in real life, I would love to be friends with them! <3333

Secondly, for anyone who’s still saying Jonathan is a himbo…

Himbos have to embody all three qualities equally to be considered himbos! If they are not kind? Not a himbo. Not strong? Not a himbo, I’m sorry! I do make the rules of himbo, I simply follow the rules.

Now on to our good friend Jonathan Harker’s case.

He is undeniably kind. From what we’ve seen so far (not to mention later), he is not only loving to his fiancée, he is kind to strangers as well. He takes gifts from the villagers, even if he does not understand them. Just a couple of entries ago, he was willing to risk his life over a child he didn’t even know (and the same night after he had screamed running away from the women, too). Some of the Dracula Daily book club on here suspects (as do I) that some of the reason he’s so eager to spring into action the next day is to put a stop to Dracula’s evilness for other people, not just for himself. Heck, he’s even talked about Dracula’s good qualities after finding out he’s a prisoner!!! So, kindness? Yes! ✅

As for strong, there’s not as much evidence here, but I would call him somewhat strong because not just anyone could successfully scale a castle wall twice in one day like that! That takes a lot of strength in your core, arms, back, etc. Sure, Dracula can do it — but Dracula is also a vampire with super strength. Maybe it’s easier than I think it is, but I’m not exactly going to look for a castle to try it!! So for Jonathan to crack his knuckles and go “yeah, he can do it, why can’t I?” is both hilarious and shows that he must know something of his own strength. However, he’s also a solicitor and I doubt he’s built like a bodybuilder. So, strong? Maybe not as much as a typical himbo, but let’s give him the check mark because Lizard Fashion is nothing to sneeze at. ✅

Now for the ditzy part….I’d have to say no to that. Himbos are meant to not be “the sharpest tool in the shed” (yes, I did have to hit you with a Smash Mouth reference, sorry not sorry) and Jonathan is farrrrr from that.

Everything he has done so far has been methodical and smart. I covered this in my other Nova’s Notes (you can look under the hashtag on my page if you want to see more :D) so I really don’t want to go through too much I’ve already gone through, but the arguments I’ve seen for him being a himbo — based on the entries we’ve already read — are that he’s not smart because he:

Doesn’t heed villager’s warnings

“Let’s” himself become a prisoner

Is nice to Dracula after he knows he’s a prisoner

Talks about his fiancée a lot (???????)

For the first point, we’ve gone over this, but here we go again — he doesn’t heed the villager’s warnings, no. But keep in mind none of them actually say “The Count is a super dangerous man!! Don’t trust him!!!” Here’s the passage:

“When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any means comforting.

Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a very hysterical way:

‘Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go?’ She was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again:

‘Do you know what day it is?’ I answered that it was the fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again:

‘Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what day it is?’ On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

‘It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?’ She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable.

So here’s the thing: you can see that the only thing the innkeeper’s wife explicitly warns him against is going to the castle that night because it’s a day in their culture where evil spirits are considered to have full sway.

The innkeeper’s wife does ask him if he knows “where he is going and who is going to” — he says no, but she does not speak further on the matter. When he asked about the Count before this, they just refused to speak! I know that may seem like an implicit warning — and it is — but some people on here act as if Jonathan was supposed to have known why they were crossing themselves and immediately have left? Like, he obviously feels uncomfortable, but as he states before and afterwards: he has a job to do. If you were in his position: a newly-appointed lawyer (or position of your choice), and you went to a place where the locals told you not to visit your client that night because it was a night where evil spirits would come out: would you honestly believe them? And if you asked about what your client was like and they just crossed themselves and refused to speak on the matter, would you simply leave the town and tell your boss “nah, sorry, the villagers warned me against him. I decided this client’s not for me”? I guess that honestly depends on you, but I would think not if you want to keep your job!! I know that’s not ideal, but to be fair, he also is not given a fair warning before going in.

There is also that incident in the carriage where he hears those villagers talking and he picks up bits and pieces (including the words werewolf and vampire) but a) they’re not talking to him and b) he doesn’t pick up enough to even indicate who they’re talking about!! In fact, he thinks they’re badmouthing him!!! (Which is understandable, he can only hear a bit and he’s translating on the fly). Again, how he is supposed to automatically know: “oh, Count Dracula is a vampire and I must flee this place immediately.” We know that because Dracula has been a pop culture icon for 100+ years, but Jonathan doesn’t have that kind of knowledge. I feel it’s kind of ridiculous to call him not smart for not knowing this.

However, and this is important, he does take some of this warning to heart. He does take the crucifix and the other vampire-repellent gifts the villagers bestow upon him, despite his skepticism and ignorance of the culture (thanks, English colonization /s). He feels uncomfortable and anxious before he even goes into the castle, literally saying goodbye to Mina in his diary in case he doesn’t make it back!! He keeps the crucifix in his room and uses it to ward off bad dreams and for safety against Dracula (which is not really how he’s supposed to use it, but he wasn’t really told how, so I don’t really blame him for that).

I don’t think a himbo would’ve picked up that something was amiss at any of these points, not until it was too late at least. I think for this test, just picture Kronk (or your fav himbo) in this situation. Would they even notice something was up? Or would they go cheerfully towards the castle?

As for the second point — this is kind of unrelated to the himbo question but — what kind of victim-blame mentality is this????? I have seen people unironically (at least I’m pretty sure it is?) post that Jonathan deserves the abuse he’s getting because he didn’t heed the villager’s warnings (which I already talked about above) and/or he’s “rude” to Dracula. I’m sorry — WHAT???? So if you’re rude to somebody they’re to allowed to lock you up in their castle???? That’s a fair trade? I beg your pardon?! Just…ok. Believe what you want, but maybe let’s not blame the guy who’s been a prisoner in a random stranger’s castle for a month and is sure he’s about to die? Yes, this is fictional and not that deep, but still — weird take.

Back to the himbo question, I mean, he doesn’t really let himself become a prisoner. He’s at Dracula’s castle for a job. Once he’s done with that job he’s ready to leave, but Dracula makes him stay because he literally locks him in!!! He then explicitly tells him he will stay longer and Jonathan has to accept because he is there in place of his boss, and saying no would be like speaking (negatively) for his boss — and Jonathan is not going to do that. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think a himbo would be able to see all of that subtext within that conversation. I actually don’t know this kind of interaction between a true himbo and Dracula would go, but I imagine not well. Dracula thrives off of interesting conversation and wit, as well as being able to maintain a facade of host and guest. I just don’t see if someone like Kronk could maintain that for long because he would probably be like “but I don’t want to stay longer, let me go” or something, which would end the “game”.

Moving on to the third point, he is nice to Dracula after he knows he’s a prisoner for a reason. When he realizes he’s locked up (which he realizes super fast, by the way), he sits down and has a good, long think about what he can do. More passage evidence!

“I am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite conclusion. Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to the Count. He knows well that I am imprisoned; and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes open. I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or else I am in desperate straits; and if the latter be so, I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.”

So he knows Dracula is up to something (or he’s jumped to conclusions) and either way, talking about it is a bad idea. The only way through is to act like nothing’s wrong for now and try to get information out of Dracula. Other than that, he’s going to need to use his brains! Yes, he does talk to Dracula and acts nice — but it’s with a plan and a purpose. Dracula has creeped him out from the start, but he has always been able to maintain good cheer around him. Now, he will put that to use.

So for this himbo test, it’s kind of similar to the second one. Were Kronk in this situation, he would make it by for a while because he probably wouldn’t notice the doors are locked. But once he did…I’m not sure if it would be like the second point where he’d immediately tell Dracula “hey why are all of the doors locked” and the game is up or if his shoulder angel/devil characters would come out to help him. I guess it depends! And to Kronk’s credit, he has figured things out before (e.g. figured out who Pacha was and in relation to Kuzco) *but* it took him like 12 hours after the fact and that’s not how Jonathan operates. Jonathan figures out things pretty quickly. Does he need time to think sometimes? Yes. But he’s pretty much always thinking and trying to figure out more once he’s at Castle Dracula. I just don’t see these two in the same vein here.

For the final point, I haven’t seen much evidence for this, but it needs to be addressed. I think sometimes people tend to equate WifeGuy with “no thoughts, head empty only for wife” and that can be true!!! There are definitely characters like that and I do love them so. Jonathan is undeniably a WifeGuy (and Mina’s not even his wife in name yet), bringing her up anytime he gets a chance. I would argue though that just because he’s in love and brings her up a ton doesn’t mean he’s also not clever and methodical. You can be in love and smart: these can coexist. Mina is a very smart character from what we’ve seen already and she’s in love too!

I don’t really have a Kronk case study for this one, but like anon said — I think Mina is attracted to Jonathan for his smartness and it goes both ways. They love each other for many other reasons (there’s a lot to love!), but I imagine that’s kind of the cherry on top for them.

Why does this matter? I think calling Jonathan a himbo is reducing his character a bit here. Again, I’m not saying being a himbo is bad, but it does discredit his methodical ways and strategy he has in the castle. His methodical nature is part of personality and pretending that doesn’t exist erases his character, in my opinion. Additionally, it raises the question: could a himbo become a lawyer? I…don’t think so…but maybe? Find me a himbo who’s a lawyer and prove me wrong I guess! Wait is Phoenix Wright a himbo…? Question for another time.

In conclusion, Jonathan Harker only passes 1 part of the himbo test (kindness) with flying colors. The strong test he only passes by the tail of his lizard fashion, and as for ditzy? He fails miserably. Recall that for someone to be a true himbo, they have to possess all three traits equally. Even if you could make the case for one, you’d still be missing another. So, no, I don’t think Jonathan Harker is a himbo. You can maybe argue with me that he has himbo moments (if that’s a thing, idk), but overall? No.

[blackleatherjacketz]

The Notebook

Javier Peña x Female Reader

Summary: Your coworker, Javier, finds some of your erotic writings in your notebook and takes a very special interest in them.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mature Content, Humiliation Kink, Invasion of Privacy, Javier invading your personal space, Dracula Fan Fiction, Stealing, Teasing, Taunting, Alcohol, Kissing, Writing Kink, Javier wanting you to talk him through it, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Face Grabbing, Neck Kissing, Neck Sucking/Biting, Vaginal Sex, Woman On Top, Orgasm Delay

Word Count: 3.6k+

Notes: This may or may not be inspired by true events.

Tags: @bullet-prooflove @skittle479 @letsby

This day has dragged on long enough, your office’s efforts in catching Escobar sluggish at best as Peña paces around the busy office with his hands on his hips. His stance accentuates the muscles in his back as they flex in aggravated tension through his dress shirt, his rugged features twisting with worry as he slowly turns to face you.

“You got anything?” He asks, waltzing over to your desk. “Any random phone calls or photographs we might have overlooked?” He gives you a glance reminiscent of the one he shot you at last year’s Christmas party, one that sent shivers down your spine then and is well on its way to doing so now.

“Nothing I haven’t already shown you.” You shrug your shoulders as you watch him saunter around your desk, running his thumb and forefinger over his mustache before planting himself proudly onto a stack of your papers.

You’d seen him do this to Murphy dozens of times before, but he’d never had the audacity to do it to you until now. He’d never gotten close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his body, hear the rhythm of his breathing or feel the roughened texture of his pants as his thigh brushes against your elbow. The scent of smoke and whiskey surrounds you as your heart begins to flutter in response, making you well aware of the attraction you’ve been trying to hide for months now as he leans in close to see what you’ve been writing.

“Wait, what does that say?” He leans in closer to get a better look before placing his hand on top of yours, grazing his index finger over your hurried handwriting as your heart skips a beat. “Peña doesn’t believe me?”

He snatches the notebook right out of your hands, standing up to read your most pertinent notes on the case out loud for everyone in the office to hear. He takes his time rifling his way through its weathered pages, picking and choosing phrases he finds to be interesting as his large fingers spread each sheet of paper apart from the next. Those mischievous eyes of his glance up at you in between his redundant narrations until he gets to the very back of the book, a section you’ve always kept to yourself.

“Peña, stop!” You stand up from your seat and lean forward, reaching out to him as he playfully pulls it away just in time. He’s never shown any interest in your notes before. You have no idea what could have changed that now.

“Por qué?” He raises an eyebrow and steps back just far enough to sit down on top of his own desk, the skin around his eyes creasing with intrigue. “Is this your diary or something?”

You shoot him a look that tells him he should know better; a look you hope to be just as threatening as it is pleading while he holds your innermost thoughts and desires hostage. You try your best to avoid telling the entire office what’s inside, but you can’t expect him to know that you’ve written your own erotic version of ‘Dracula’ in the back of the book he holds in his hands.

“Peña, please give it back!” You extend your arm out as far as you can, flexing your fingers toward him as he blatantly ignores your request.

Smiling wide, he enacts your biggest fear by reading your dark and dreary prose aloud, your words rolling off his tongue as if he’d written every one of them himself before reciting them to your peers. He looks up at you occasionally until he gets to a certain part of the story that shouldn’t be uttered in a place of business, let alone out loud at all. All of the sudden he gawks at you from atop his desk, his eyes growing darker as his mouth falls slack, his lips deepening into a vibrant shade of mauve.

Oh God, it’s too late. He’s seen too much.

Sweat begins to form at your temples as he turns the page, a single drop racing down your cheek as a lick of his lips makes you swallow hard before wiping away the evidence of your discomfort. Powerless to stop him, you attempt to busy yourself with whatever paperwork is in front of you, stapling random things together as he continues to read your deepest, darkest thoughts in the light of day. But it’s no use. You can still feel his eyes upon you, the heat radiating off of them practically cooking you from the inside out as everyone else around you moves on, unknowingly going about their business.

His silence remains heavy as his glare only deepens over the aged black leather of your personal ledger. Another page turns, the edge of the paper practically deafening against the hustle and bustle of the room as it scrapes across his calloused fingertips in what seems to be slow motion. You’d been in dozens of high stress scenarios on the job before, but nothing had frozen time or gotten your heart racing quite like this. Nothing had flushed your cheeks or shook your hands like this until he started looking at you like that.

“Hey, you got those financial reports I asked you for?” Murphy interrupts your thoughts by stepping directly into the line of fire.

“Uh, yeah, I uh…” you scramble, looking down at your desk to rid yourself of the unbearable heat of Peña’s eyes. It’s only now that you realize you’ve stapled a takeout menu to your paystub just in time for you to shove it under the rest of your disorganized papers.

“You okay?” Murphy tilts his head as he looks at you, glancing back at Peña before squinting as if to try and figure you out. “You look a little…”

You can see Peña shifting his weight out of the corner of your eye, no doubt getting to the part where Dracula bites the girl on her thigh and starts dining between her legs with a fervor you described in great length. You hold your breath and furtively watch him take in a slow, stifled one to match yours before he looks up at you in an almost… helpless manner. You notice his palm gently grazing over the bulge in his jeans as they gradually tighten around it, the space between his thighs shrinking as he brings them together in muffled frustration.

Is he…? Holy shit, he’s really enjoying himself.

“It’s nothing,” you reassure Murphy, sifting through your messy stack of papers until you find the ones that he’s after. “Women’s troubles, you know.” You wink at him before handing over the documents, knowing full well that was enough to steer him away from you in a heartbeat.

“Say no more!” He holds his hands up in defense before taking the paperwork from you. “I’ll leave you to it! Wouldn’t want to make you mad during that time of the month!”

You sneer at him until he takes the hint and walks away, clasping his hand onto Peña’s shoulder in order to get his attention. He leans in to tell him something inaudible, something about a lead they need to follow up on as Peña swallows hard, nodding to his partner in silence. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob up and down in his throat before he turns to stare at you like a jungle cat would his next meal, closing the book in his hands before shoving it into the hem of his pants for safekeeping.

“I’m gonna need that back before you go,” you remind him, remaining seated as you hold your hand out.

Grinning from ear to ear, he laughs to himself and slaps his knee before standing up from his perch on his desk. He slowly saunters toward you with your book tucked snugly between his hips. “But I haven’t finished it yet.”

“You don’t need to finish it, Peña.” You try to control your breathing as he gets closer to you, every vein in his neck and forearms popping against his skin as the tension between you builds. “Give it back.”

“You want it?” He leans forward and places his palms flat on your desk, bringing his gorgeous face mere inches away from yours.

“Please,” you attempt, your chest heaving.

He licks his lips and takes the pen right out of your hand just as quickly as he had your notebook, writing an address on the closest sticky note before turning it around to face you. “Come by my place later tonight and pick it up.”

————

It took you a while to muster up the courage to actually get in your car and drive over to Peña’s apartment a few hours later. You realized maybe a little too late that if he really wanted to embarrass you, that if he hated whatever you’d written down on those pages that he wouldn’t have taken it home for him to finish later. You tell yourself that if he didn’t at least want you in some capacity after reading that about you, he wouldn’t have invited you over here tonight at all. So, you decide to show up and act confident enough in who you are and what you’ve written, hoping that maybe this night won’t turn out so bad after all.

Just as you expected, he’s all but smirking when he opens the door to his apartment, eyes taking you in as he leans in against the doorframe just a little too long. His tie is nowhere to be found and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone just enough to show the sweat glistening across his muscular chest as it rises and falls with your arrival. “Took you long enough.”

“Where’s my notebook, Peña?” You try not to stare at him for more than a few seconds as he steps back just far enough to grant you entry, his scent intoxicating you once again as he towers over you.

“It’s over there,” he mutters. “And call me Javi.” He points to the coffee table with a nearly empty glass of whiskey in his hand. “You want a drink?”

“Sure, Javi.” You try on his first name with a smile, seeing how it feels in your mouth as you make your way over to the sofa, sitting down in front of the messy coffee table. Your notebook lays in the midst of scattered ashtrays and coffee mugs, the edges of it bent a little bit more than you’d like. “I assume you’ve read everything in here, then?”

“A few times, yeah,” he admits, glass clinking behind you before he returns with a full drink in each hand, sitting down next to you.

“I didn’t know you were such a huge Dracula fan,” you tease, forcing yourself to play the part of your confident protagonist as you take your drink from him.

“Neither did I.” He winks at you like he winks at everyone, only this time that salacious glare stays on his features as he lifts the amber liquid to his lips. “You’re a really fucking good writer, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you wink back.

“Humble, too.” He takes a sip of alcohol, nodding toward the infamous notebook as he shifts his weight to disguise the act of scooting even closer to you. “There’s some real sick shit in there, you know that?”

“You seemed to like it just fine.” You remind him with a quick sip, wincing as it washes over your tongue and down into your stomach, warming you to the very core. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t replayed the image of him rubbing his jeans in the middle of the office over again in your head on the drive over here.

He only laughs as you call him out, nodding unapologetically as his breath fogs up the glass around his mustache. “Oh, I’m not complaining.” He sets his drink down on the table before grabbing hold of your knee as if he’d done so a thousand times before, squeezing it affectionately. “You know that.”

You do now.

“Do I?” You let him touch you as you down the rest of your drink, relishing in this moment that you’ve been fantasizing about for far too long as his fingers curl beneath your thigh, tugging it towards him.

“So how long has it been since you’ve done anything like that?” His voice drops an octave as he slowly turns you toward him, the darkness in his eyes engulfing his usual chestnut hue as a strand of hair falls in front of them.

“You mean since I’ve been bitten by a vampire?” You chide, feeling the warmth from your drink spread from your arms and legs out into your fingers and toes.

Now it’s his turn to give you a knowing look.

“A while,” you admit, letting him carefully spread your legs apart as the moisture you so eloquently described in your writings begins to collect between them. “What was your favorite part?”

“All of it.” He holds eye contact with you while his hand grazes up your thigh toward your junction, his fingertips barely sliding beneath the cotton of your underwear before he pauses. “You really experience pleasure like that?”

“Sometimes,” you nod, lifting your leg up onto his lap as he guides it there with his opposite hand. “If I’m lucky.”

He grins and pulls the soft fabric to the side, studying your face as he dips his digits into the moisture between your folds as a hushed moan barely escapes your lips. He brings his mouth just a breath away from yours as he spreads your slick up and down your seam, delicately lubricating your now puffy lips before coating your swollen bud up and down with your arousal.

“What are you feeling now?” He whispers, his question hot on your skin as he excites the neurons in your most sensitive spot.

“What?” You’re barely able to ask, his fingers pushing and pulling against your clit in a torturously slow and pedantic pattern.

“Describe it to me,” he slides his fingers down inside your heat, his thumb pressing against your bud as your walls instinctively squeeze around him. “Describe it like you would in your writing.”

What?

“Mmm…I… you feel… electric,” you start out almost stuttering, still shocked at his unique request as he glides up at the most euphoric angle. “Your fingers are sending little… fuck, Javi!”

“I knew I liked hearing you call me that.” He kisses your lips as you try to find the right words in the moment, to convey the utter bliss he’s sending up into your core as your hips roll against his wrist again and again. But the pleasure he’s giving you is so intense that it blocks out any logical form of thinking, erasing any linguistic mastery you may possess as his bold request remains unfulfilled.

You lift your hand to hold onto his face as you moan against his mouth, tasting the flavor of whiskey you both shared as the hair of his mustache tickles your skin. He moans along with you, your growing euphoria seeming to give him just as much satisfaction as he pushes his fingers in deeper than yours could ever reach. In and out, they nearly brush against your cervix as he continues massaging your bud, exciting each and every nerve ending along your soaking wet walls as they grip around him, clenching in delight. His groans vibrate against your lips as he breathes in your hushed whispers, your failed attempts at any literary description of what he’s doing to your body until it’s finally about to give way.

“Tell me how you taste,” he pulls his fingers out just as you’re about to climax, shoving them into your mouth as you whine in stifled protest.

Your eyes widen as he pushes in past your lips, that zesty flavor settling into your taste buds as you wrap your tongue around his fingers to pinpoint the notes of your juices. He watches you, utterly rapt as you take him in up to his knuckles, your spit all but spilling out of the corners of your mouth before he reluctantly takes them out.

“Well?” He sucks them into his own mouth to get a taste, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he awaits your answer.

“I taste tangy,” you manage to say as you watch him savor the little bit of flavor you’d left for him, his full lips glistening in your sex. “Tart with a little bit of sweetness.”

“Tastes like you were about to come.” He grasps onto your chin, smearing the brink of your orgasm across your face as he brings his lips to your cheek, pressing hungry kisses into your jawline. “Now, what kind of story would that be if I let you come that quickly, huh?”

“I, uh…” you mutter as his lips reach yours, slowing down the synapses in your body with each prolonged kiss as his fingers weave their way into your hairline. “Not a very good one.”

“No, not at all,” he whispers, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before letting it bounce back into place.

He grabs hold of your hips and pulls you onto his lap as he kisses his way down your face and neck, just as fervently as you’d written in your book. You hiss as his tongue barely softens the blow before his teeth scrape against your flesh, latching onto your throat in order to suck your pulse into his mouth in a delicious twinge of pain. It’s as if he’d memorized every word you’d written down, following the map of intimacy you so blatantly laid out for him as he pays perfect attention to your most erogenous zones. His hands accompany his mouth by needily grazing over the muscles in your back, massaging them on their way down to pull you near before grasping onto your cheeks.

You run your fingers through his hair as his kiss deepens, darkening your bruise with a soft hum that sounds more like a whimper as you grind your soaking wet mound over his clothed erection in urgent desire.

“Don’t think you’re gonna make yourself come like that,” he breaks free from his bite, bringing you out of it with a harsh smack to your ass.

“No?” You ask, wondering just how long you can prolong your release.

He bucks his hips up just enough to slide his thumbs beneath the fabric of his jeans, freeing himself in one fluid motion as his pants rest just below his knees. “I wanna feel it, too.”

Jesus Christ, he’s huge.

He licks his fingers and drags them slowly up your length as you hover over him, smirking as he tugs on your clit one more time before finally stroking himself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He looks up at you and grabs onto your face while coating himself in your sex, your juices already dripping down his shaft and onto his pelvis before you open your mouth to speak.

“My skin’s on fire, Javi, I’m so… aching for you,” you whisper incoherently as you look into his eyes, resisting the temptation to watch him line up with your entrance as he stimulates you with the tip of his cock. “I’m tingling with pleasure, but it’s not enough, I need you inside me.” His girth cuts you off as you slowly sink down onto him, his head already stretching your walls in pulses of ecstasy as they gradually expand around him.

“Good,” he huffs, placing his other hand on your hip as you take him in completely, his eyes instinctively rolling back in his head before he has the chance to look back up at you. “Tell me more, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re big, Javi,” you mumble as the pet name nearly takes you out, your inner walls already quaking around him as he pushes in up to the hilt. His other hand snakes its way across your hip, grabbing onto your ass as he thrusts up into you, his size stretching you out inch by inch as you rise and fall onto him at a desperate, delicious pace. “I’m gonna feel you for days after this,” you mutter, nearly out of breath. “Feel so empty without you.”

“Yeah?” He tightens his grip on your face before turning you on your back, thrusting in even deeper to trigger that cascade of pleasure that can only come from hitting that bundle of nerves he’s been dancing around all night. He grunts as he feels you begin to seize around him, loosening his grip on your face before sliding it down to your throat as he drives those surges of bliss up into your spine, one right after another.

“Javi, you’re making me come!” You whimper, mewling beneath him as he ignites your entire body with a thousand tiny explosions, sparks of euphoria practically shooting out of your fingers and toes as you contract around him like a mad woman.

“Good girl,” he growls before losing himself inside you, too caught up in his own pleasure to demand your verbal description as he slams his hips against your thighs at a violent, erratic pace, straining every muscle in your body as he spasms within the confines of your velvety grasp. “Fuck!”

You wrap your legs around his back as the aftershock courses its way through you, his thrusts barely slowing down as he spills his release inside you with reckless abandon. He looks like a wild animal as he builds onto your pleasure, his eyes blackened with lust as he grunts and growls into you, forcing it to wreak havoc on your system as you rattle and hum uncontrollably. His abs contract as he pushes in deeper with each twitch of his dick, sending you even further over the edge as his eyes fall shut in sheer delight before eventually slowing his rhythm.

“That’s one for the books, huh?” He asks, resting his forehead against yours before kissing your cheek.

[lauralot89]

"Now, sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want. You'll excoose me refoosin' to talk of perfeshunal subjects afore meals. I gives the wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section their tea afore I begins to arsk them questions."

Did journalists actually used to write out accents phonetically or is Bram Stoker just doing this for fun

That 'ere wolf what we called Bersicker was one of three grey ones that came from Norway to Jamrach's, which we bought off him four years ago.

Charles Jamrach was a real wildlife dealer, most (in)famous for the time when a tiger escaped and grabbed a small child, who survived. This incident is now immortalized with a statue:

You could just do anything back in the day

He 'ad white kid gloves on 'is 'ands, and he pointed out the animiles to me and says: 'Keeper, these wolves seem upset at something.'

Thanks, Dracula, very helpful.

That there man kem over, and blessed but if he didn't put in his hand and stroke the old wolf's ears too!

Dracula is a Disney princess (countess) confirmed

anceterer

it took me like five tries to understand this

"Well then, sir, I accounts for it this way; it seems to me that 'ere wolf escaped—simply because he wanted to get out."

This one ain't been used to fightin' or even to providin' for hisself

Hence why Dracula had to lob him at the window like a basketball

well, then I shouldn't be surprised if the census is one babby the less

How is babby formed? how is babby formed how girl get pragnent

I shall take this cylinder with me, and then I can complete my entry on Lucy's phonograph.

Can't you only record like two minutes of audio on those?

Did you not get my telegram?

GREAT WORK, VAN HELSING

I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care to smell and taste it, lest it, too, were drugged like the decanter of sherry which I found on the table.

For as much shit as I have deservedly given Jack "Medical Malpractice" Seward, I have to hand it to him, I would never have thought of that

I noticed that Van Helsing tied a soft silk handkerchief round her throat.

Professor, I hate to tell you this, but I think that vampires can bite through silk

I fear to trust those women, even if they would have courage to submit.

why though

"What's the matter with me, anyhow?"

QUINCEY MORRIS MY BELOVED

A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is in trouble. You're a man and no mistake.

Everyone who meets Quincey is immediately in awe, as well they should be

I found Van Helsing with a sheet or two of note-paper in his hand

She wrote all that in two pages? How small is her writing

Do not trouble about it now. Forget it for the present. You shall know and understand it all in good time; but it will be later.

He can't keep getting away with this

What is it that's wrong with her? The Dutchman—and a fine old fellow he is; I can see that—said, that time you two came into the room, that you must have another transfusion of blood, and that both you and he were exhausted. Now I know well that you medical men speak in camera, and that a man must not expect to know what they consult about in private. But this is no common matter, and, whatever it is, I have done my part...I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I did to-day. Is not that so?...if you may tell me without betraying confidence, Arthur was the first, is not that so?...

Quincey is the smartest character in this whole damn book

His very heart was bleeding, and it took all the manhood of him—and there was a royal lot of it, too—to keep him from breaking down.

Everyone's gay for Quincey

Whilst still asleep she took the paper from her breast and tore it in two. Van Helsing stepped over and took the pieces from her. All the same, however, she went on with the action of tearing, as though the material were still in her hands; finally she lifted her hands and opened them as though scattering the fragments.

This is fine.

Van Helsing seemed surprised, and his brows gathered as if in thought, but he said nothing.

The Van Helsing Standard

Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra (Unopened by her.)

WHY MUST YOU HURT ME IN THIS WAY

Mr. Hawkins has died very suddenly.

Oh for fuck's sake, Dracula (yes I know it wasn't him)

Forgive me, dear, if I worry you with my troubles in the midst of your own happiness; but, Lucy dear, I must tell some one, for the strain of keeping up a brave and cheerful appearance to Jonathan tries me, and I have no one here that I can confide in.

I'm dying (Just like Lucy! Heyo!)

[tetsunabouquet]

Having the nastiest thoughts about tutor! akashi, midorima and hanamiya

A/N: Because of Kinktober and the vampire Akashi AU I've been working on, I had to write this;

Akashi Seijuro - When history inspires you

Akashi sat at the table, across from you. He was explaining world history to you, which was your worst subject. Your class was currently going over Eastern European history, and that whole Transylvania thing was something you couldn't wrap your head around. You groaned and couldn't make out the words on the pages anymore. "Care for a break?" You nodded at him, thankfully. "I can understand Dracula being based on a real count, but what is the difference between Transsylvania and Walachia?" You scrunched your nose, and Akashi grinned. "From everything, Dracula you remember?" You blushed. "Well, every girl will remember a hot vampire." Akashi's grin became a little predatory. "So you like a man breathing down your neck?" You blinked at what he said, confused. 'Why is he asking me such a question?' "Uhm, I suppose." Akashi, with a dark chuckle said, "Care for a demonstration?" Your frown deepened. You couldn't follow his train of thought. He sauntered his way over to you, and tugged a lock of your hair behind your ear, his face leaning in. You could feel his lips brushing against your neck, and your heart pounded harshly in your ribcage. When his tongue trailed against your juggular vein, you gasped. He playfully bit down and you whimpered in delight. "Heh," he chuckled against your skin. "It seems it really does work on you." His hand trailed towards the collar of your uniform, pulling it softly, "Want me to suck somewhere else?"

Midorima - Chemical emotions

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You screeched in absolute terror. Accidentally, you had spilled a formula you had been practising with Midorima, on his uniform. You sucked at chemistry, this just being your most recent example of a big mistake in the school's lab, only this time there was only Midorima and not your other classmates holding back their laughter. Midorima was in the process of taking off his jacket and shirt, as the liquid was quite toxic to the skin. If you weren't so god damn terrified you had turnt the usually grumpy Midorima into an angry Midorima, you would have thought to yourself it wasn't that bad of a mistake. You weren't stupid, you knew he was an athlete and trained often. However, knowing that and seeing that were two different things. Midorima's broad chest and abs caused a nosebleed. You burried your nose in the sleeve of your own jacket, stopping the bleeding. Midorima looked at you, taking you in so very slow. His gaze felt like it was stripping you naked, and you shivered. Midorima's taped fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he pulled your hand away from your face. "You truly are set on ruining our uniforms today, nanodayo." You blushed a bright red, trying to avert your gaze. "Are you trying to tell me something?" You looked into his brilliant green eyes,"Just wondering if there is some kind of pheromone in that stuff." Much to your surprise, he chuckled at your flirty response. "Would you mind making things fair, and take off that blood stained garment?" You bit your lip in excitement, your hands flying to the buttons already at Midorima's steady gaze. This was unexpected, but as Midorima's eyes took in your chest with appreciation, you knew you were going to like every minute of this.

Hanamiya - That moment when literature gets you talking dirty

You were giggling, as Hanamiya just roasted the author of the book your teacher had instructed the class to read after a boy in your class had made the worst misogynistic joke possible about romance novels. Not that the romance novel the teacher had picked, was of any quality to convince anyone they were worth reading. "I agree, how he thought Colleen Hoover was the author to convince Takamiya otherwise is beyond me." "Joking about the ball size of your child is creepy," Hanamiya expressed in distaste, and you blinked in bewilderment. There were actually things that could creep Hanamiya out? "Children and sexual conversations don't go together." You said, shaking your head. "Only if it is about the process of creating them," Hanamiya said suggestively and your face became red. "Eh? Did I say something wrong?" He asked bemused, absolutely aware why you reacting this way, but he thought your shyness was absolutely adorable. It motivated him to continue. "You do know how people make babies right?" You nodded quickly, afraid to say anything else knowing the kind of person Hanamiya was. "Oh really? So you understand what a creampie is?" You nodded, wanting to run away from this conversation right now. "I'm getting the feeling you're just answering me to look smart, what is a creampie then?" You looked into his burning dark eyes, and bit your lip. "It's when seed leaks out of a woman's pussy." As you wondered whether pussy was the correct word to use, Hanamiya sat back in his chair with desire glittering in his eyes. He was scary yet electrifying, and your heart was racing in your chest. "How about we write a story together huh, you have an excellent word choice." You looked at him, "You really want to do the assignment together?" "Oh angel, I want to do more then the assignment together."

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

“Pizza’s on the way,” Eddie announces. He flops down on the sofa, crashing right into Billy’s side and smiling when the little outburst goes unnoticed. “I got mushrooms and cherry tomatoes like you like.”

Without looking up from his book, Billy hums. Turns the page gently while Eddie noses a kiss against his cheek.

“Did you get plain cheese for Stevie?” Billy asks.

“Yup, with stuffed crusts.”

Billy nods once. Zones back into his book, if the way that his breathing softens is any indication. Eddie scoots closer. Glances at the page and implements the five finger rule that Billy showed him — and determines before he’s even halfway down that this book is way over his head.

“Dude, what kind of Old Testament shit is this?”

It takes Billy a moment to finish the sentence that he’s reading before his eyes stop skimming back and forth.

“The Vampyre by John Polidori,” Billy says. “It’s the original vampire novel.”

“I thought Dracula was the original vampire.”

Billy taps the page lightly with his thumb.

“This was like seventy years before Bram Stoker’s Dracula was published. Stoker’s novel is actually considered an adaptation of this one.”

Eddie nods. Leans his head against Billy’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him.

“Then why not just read Dracula?”

“Because I’m reading it next.”

“God, you’re such a goth, y’know that?”

A small smile blooms on Billy’s face as he shakes his head.

“I don’t listen to the music.”

“C’mon, I’ve heard you bopping to Siouxsie and the Banshees before.”

“One of Max’s mixes,” Billy excuses.

“The Cure?”

“Jonathan left his tape in my car and I haven’t given it back yet.”

There’s a slight pause. Eddie sits up enough to look at his partner, quirking a brow.

“Since when do you hang around Byers?”

Billy purses his lips.

“I don’t. He works part-time at the library.”

“He’s showing you music in your car.” Eddie spreads a grin and Billy’s face begins to burn a flustered shade of red. “You have a little crush on him, don’t you?” When Billy doesn’t say anything, Eddie snickers. “You definitely have a type, that’s all I’m saying.”

“No I don’t.”

“No you don’t have a crush on him or no you don’t have a type?”

Billy huffs and waves Eddie off with his hand.

“Either.”

“Lanky brunets,” Eddie lilts. “Typically of the brooding persuasion.”

“You do not brood, Munson, you’re the most bubbly motherfucker on the planet.”

“That’s why I said typically, babe, let’s try and keep up.” Eddie nuzzles closer and chews his lip. “Y’know, mostly based on Steve and Jonathan. Maybe a little bit of Hagan.”

“You’re putting way too much thought into this.”

“There’s definitely a pattern, wouldn’t you say? Lanky brunets…” Eddie wonders. “Brooding, pale skin, brown eyes…”

Billy’s eyes stay locked on the page that he hasn’t finished reading yet, jaw set as Eddie tippy-taps his fingers against the blond’s chest.

“Is your type just… vampires?” Eddie muses.

“Energy vampires, maybe,” Billy grumbles. He dog-ears the page and finally shuts his book, laying it in his lap. “But no.”

Eddie chuckles. Flattens his hand against Billy’s sternum and smooths his palm back and forth.

“Seems like it to me.”

“This may surprise you, but I’m not so shallow that I only care about looks.”

“So…” Eddie trails off. “There’s an outlier.”

“Edd—“

“Who is it?”

“I’m not doing this right now.”

“You’re my boyfriend, you’re contractually obligated to tell me about your hot man crushes.”

Billy presses his lips together and doesn’t budge when Eddie tries to shake an answer out of him. Eddie is about to start more roughly demanding when the doorbell rings, and it derails his train of thought long enough for Billy to slip away from him.

The blond jumps up from his seat to answer the door, practically ripping the door off of its hinges when he opens it. Light pours into the entryway, obstructed by a tall figure.

“Thanks for ordering Surfer Boy Pizza where we make everything fresh except…” the voice trails off momentarily, nearly cut off by the bubbly laugh that exits the guy’s lips. “‘Sup, lil’ dude!”

A hand shoots out to fist bump Billy, which he barely reacts fast enough to reciprocate. Still, the blond spreads a dopey little smile.

“Hey, Argyle,” he greets. Soft, for how flustered he is.

“Man, I didn’t know you lived right here or I would’ve been hopping the fence for backyard smoke seshes.”

Billy fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a new situation. Still getting settled.” Which is technically true if you count the box that’s been sitting unpacked in the corner for two weeks. “You should still come by sometime, though. When, uh… you’re not working, obviously.”

“Def!” Argyle says. “That’ll be fourteen fifty, bro.”

Billy digs in his wallet for a moment before he slaps a couple of bills in the other guy’s hand, which he trades the pizza for.

“Keep the change.”

Argyle furrows his brows.

“You gave me thirty.”

“Then I guess you have some extra cash for snacks when we hang out,” Billy lilts.

Argyle nods. Spreads a grin as he pockets the cash and fist bumps Billy once more.

“Sweet,” he says, and turns on his heel. “I’ll be seeing you around, lil’ dude!”

Billy waves briefly before he kicks the door shut, turning to walk into the kitchen and stopping in his tracks when he sees Eddie smirking at him from the couch.

The blond’s face turns ten different shades of red in a matter of seconds.

“The pizza guy, huh?” Eddie teases. “I see it.”

“I haven’t seen him much since I left Cali, alright? He just moved in with Jonathan and I haven’t had time to visit.”

“Right.”

Billy shifts his weight on his feet, furrowing his brows.

“Am I under investigation or something?”

“Nerds.”

“What?”

“Nerds. That’s your type. You like ‘em kinda dorky and way too interested in their hobbies.”

Billy scoffs.

“Stevie isn’t a nerd.”

“He’s a sports guy. You can twist it how you want, but he’s a nerd about it.”

“Tommy, then.”

“Too into cars.”

“Jon— actually, I understand that one, but Argyle is definitely not a nerd.”

Eddie chuckles and leans his elbow against the armrest, setting his chin in his hand thereafter.

“How many weed strands can that guy name? More than I can, and I can name a lot.” Eddie clicks his tongue when Billy has no counter argument. “Plus, he’s super passionate about his job. He talked my ear off about toppings for twenty minutes one time when I called in.”

Billy sighs. Sets the pizza down on the counter and crosses his arms, clearly working things over in his head. Eddie gets up in the meantime and strolls over. Gently pushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face before he laces his arms around his neck.

“Jokes aside, I think it’s nice that you like so many different people.”

Blue eyes meet his, and Billy softens. Sets his hands on Eddie’s hips.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I mean, you have lots of love to give, y’know? Of course it’s spilling over, sweetheart. Your cup is full.”

Billy chews his lip thoughtfully.

“I never looked at it that way before.”

Eddie leans closer. Kisses the corner of his partner’s mouth while he toys with a lock of his hair, soft to the touch and free of product.

“Glad my ramblings were of use to you,” Eddie chuckles. “Wanna have a sit-down with sleeping beauty after dinner? Talk some strats for getting you out of the friend zone?”

“I dunno if I wanna do that.”

“I’m pretty sure Steve’s had the hots for Tommy for a while now, so maybe we can knock everything out all at once.”

Billy raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not crushing on anyone? I might have to do some digging on you too, Munson, mister hopeless romantic.”

“I’m fine with bothering you two for eternity. I’m actually making it my life’s goal as we speak.”

“Of course you are.”

Billy ropes him closer, pulls him up to his tippy toes so he can press his lips to his neck — one of Eddie’s many, many weaknesses.

One of the others is, unfortunately, being manhandled. Even though Billy is gentle, it sends a thrill down Eddie’s spine when he’s lifted effortlessly.

“Want me to pay you back for the pizza?” Eddie breathes.

He makes a surprised noise when a large hand squeezes his ass.

“Keep your money, baby,” Billy lilts. Low and affectionate and now Eddie is the one getting flustered. “Wanna go wake Stevie up so we can eat and have our little discussion?”

Eddie nods. Shudders when Billy mouths at his throat and holds him ever closer.

“Yeah…” he manages.

Then Billy releases him. Let’s his socked feet touch the floor once again before he’s patting his behind and ushering him out of the kitchen.

Eddie has this sneaking suspicion that they’re gonna do way more than talk after they eat.

[artsydudejude]

Hi! Your art just crossed my dash, and it's very cool!

I would like to read your About, but the link isn't working (probably because your blog doesn't have the unique url thing enabled?) and I just wanted to let you know! :)

Sorry if you've gotten this ask several times lol

huh, that's new. tumblr seems to be changing up it's shit faster than the rest of it can keep up. my blog settings page says that my blog's address is artsydudejude.tumblr.com, but that just redirects to tumblr.com/artsydudejude and does the same for my about page. editing my about page in 'customize' doesn't let me pick any other kind of address for it, so it seems i'm shit outta luck.

so now my about is only accessable to me through editing my theme. wonderful. if there's any kind of fix for this that doesn't involve me shilling out for a custom domain, then i'm all ears.

anyway, here's my about for your convenience:

my name, art specialties, commission info, and other social media are already up there in the description, so let’s get the rest out of the way!

my main stories/verses (characters are usually tagged with one of these to show which canon they belong to):

gutmouth: horror-mystery tale set in a sleepy old connecticut town. key characters include a shape-shifting neckbeard, a shock-rocker with removable skin, a milfy snuff artist, and a handful of normies. edgy, gory, and comedic with some nsfw themes. might become a webcomic!

jude’s monster mash (working title): my little sandbox where i play around with public domain old horror literature characters. mush them around like clay and make them sexy. my dracula is chubby and he’s sexier like that. anachronistic, episodic, and mainly here for the old film aesthetics.

fritz and rita: follows a depressed junkie vampire and a stab-happy biker chick as they drift aimlessly and bloodily across the U.S. in the early 90s.

*horror story name placeholder*: a series of horror vignettes set in a rural small town in idaho, from the POV of a young girl.

crown of tides: a mostly kid-friendly adventure story set on the open ocean. featuring a chosen-one kid protagonist, a sad old drunk, fish-creature pirates, and vengeful sea nymphs.

calamity watch: a very loose concept for a superhero team, filled to the brim with comic book cliches. not something i’m taking too seriously, plot-wise. will absolutely sell the characters to a major comic publisher if they ask.

infernal agents [DEFUNCT]: an old and very extensive story i once had about a supernatural detective agency; accounted for a huge chunk of my ocs back in the day. a lot of these characters are now either being incorporated into my remaining headworlds as i see fit, or put in creative storage.

a few things:

my DMs are open for asking about/discussing commissions ONLY. i’m not too fond of one-on-one online conversation, especially not with people i don’t already know personally, so if you have questions/anything you want to say to me please send an ask instead.

i’m always open to asks about my OCs/stories/art technique/other art-related questions, but please direct any personal questions to my main, @arodudejude. also, please try to keep your asks relatively clean (as in nothing overtly sexual). i also won’t answer some OC/story asks if i think the answers would give too much away.

spamming my inbox with nonsense will get you blocked.

i periodically go back and delete some WIPs, text posts, and asks if i think they’re not important/clogging up my blog.

[mmmmalo]

If I ever finish my book, its subtitle will be "A Paranoid Reading of Homestuck" I think. Describes both form and content

Mobster Kingpin (whose bust is depicted by a mosaic of urban murals, who lords over the dollhouse world the heros inhabit) is located, like many of Hussie's villains, along the 4th wall, and his career of moonshinery seems related to a characterization of perception as the distillation of the perceived objects' essence -- Roxy's orange pumpkins give way to Dirk's orange soda, as one of the little ways their early relationship s premised upon a division between simplicity and abstraction. In Homestuck abstraction kills the simple (RIP Jaspers), and Dirk becomes a Daunting Text when he "sucks the fun out of shit. like a turd hungry dracula" -- a phraseology that returns us to the liquid conception of essence and points us to Kanaya, "rainbow drinker" being among other things a euphemism for the eyeball, which takes in color -- and insofar as troll reproduction is vaguely judicial in tone, the drones holding their buckets like scales, the Mother Grub seems posed in part as yet another threatening paradigm of viewership, demanding of you your essence. The earliest instance of this is in act 1: John's allusion to being allergic to the scorn of the peanut gallery is followed by a commercial for Hi-C Ectocooler -- a weirdly obtuse seeding of Her Imperious Condescension, whose character is downstream of a more general racialization of the 4th wall. Act 1 drags the sylladex into the fear of abstraction, first by having the narration express apprehension toward alien lingo like "captchalogue", and again when John drops the cat-killer, causing his arms (both fake and real) to be locked away in a box. Right? Right.

Dave shouts/throws his NINJA SWORD at a sticky fingered crow (crows would later, in a dream, act as Dave's personal 4th walls) and implicitly hurls an N WORD at a black figure, contributing to the comic's general air of racialized paranoia. A stupid pun, yes. Prior to this incident, there was a collision in Dave's hash map between NINJA SWORD and JUICE which, given the pejorative status of the former, suggested the latter might be an implicit JEWS. A stupid pun, yes. But as point 1 indicate, we actually have a pretty broad pattern of paranoia surrounding "juice"

The first time I became aware of possible antisemitism in Homestuck was a scene where Jack Noir commands all the Felt to get in the oven -- a couple readers wondered if it were a coincidence that the page had been published on Holocaust Remembrance Day, like a sort of hostile spin on the Christmas alchemy binges, or the New Years ball-drops at Jade and Jane's towers. With point 1 in mind in strikes me as curious that the (tentative) archetypally antisemitic archetype of the story would be the locking away of "juice" in a container, here invoked by the genocidal antisemitism of the Nazis. Likewise the way Lord English's manic glare often resolves into an 88 -- a number twice invoking the 8th letter of the alphabet H and thereby Heil Hitler -- would be consistent with the eye's general depiction as that which distills "juice". I had some anons wondering if the hints that the Mother Grub collects the blood of Alternia's children amounted to a blood libel smear, and I still don't know tbh, but we've apparently problematized rainbow drinking from another angle, so cheers to that

That the hostility towards abstraction might be among Homestuck's ciphers for antisemitism casts a different light on John's sharp rejection of psychoanalytic paradigms and "psycho-babblery"...? Like Freud is being invoked partly for his Jewishness... and that Freud's widely considered indefensible is utilized to let the antisemitic antiintellectualism pass through smoothly, I guess...

[ritzcrackee]

april tbr post yayy

rereads are marked by a ☆, new reads are marked by a ♡, and new acquisitions are bolded

physical tbr: 20

what moves the dead - t. kingfisher ♡

an education in malice - s. t. gibson ♡

juilet takes a breath - gabby rivera ♡

stories of people and civilization, greek ancient origins - lindsay powell, j. k. jackson ♡

rebel girls - elizabeth keenan ♡

the silent stars go by - dan abbet ♡

touched by an angel - johnathan morris ♡

dracula - bram stoker ♡

dune - frank herbert ♡

dune messiah - frank herbert ♡

frankenstein - mary shelley ♡

sense and sensibility - jane austen ♡

hippie - barry miles ♡

evernight - claudia gray ☆

stargazer - claudia gray ♡

the handmaids tale - margaret atwood ☆

the testaments - margaret atwood ♡

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the

universe - benjamin alire sáenz ☆

would-be witch - kimberly frost ☆

the ballad of songbirds and snakes - suzanne collins ☆

digital tbr: 2

pandora's jar: women in the greek myths - natalie haynes ♡

wild is the witch - rachel griffin ♡

read: 7

a million kisses in your lifetime - monica murphy - dnf

i got like 80 pages in and then just,,, could not continue. no shade if u liked this book it was just solidly, solidly not my thing.

my monster valentine - various authors - 3/5

debated putting this on here for obvious reasons but i neeeeed to be accurate i guess. i only read about half of the stories in this collection and they were pretty hit or miss. it was free though so yk. vibes.

high spirits - camille gomera-tavarez - 2.5/5

this book was pretty alright! i don't have much to say about it (hence the middling rating) but i would reccomend it if you're looking for a fast read :D

the coldest touch - isabel sterling - 4/5

THIS WAS SO CUUUUTTTTTEEEEE!!! i liked the way the author portrayed the genuine hell that being stuck at 17 would be. please get me out of here i want a fully developed frontal lobe. AW and all of the characters were super likable. truly so adorable i was squealing the whole time.

im knocking a point off for the romance being a littttllllleeeee rushed and the character descriptions feeling off (it felt odd that both pov characters categorized every single person into a specific race? i think its good practice to make a characters race clear, but idk if that applies to a random teacher with no dialogue). to be so real though i loved this book enough that it didn't bother me too much.

beastly & bookish - catrina bell - 5/5

did i finish this book in one sitting? yes. did i stay up until 1am doing that? ...mind your business. honestly, im maybeee being a little bit generous giving this 5 stars but !! i really liked it!!! rom was soo mecore. i'm excited to read the rest of the books in this collection (even though they're all christmasy), and i can't wait for my physical copy to get here!!

holly's unjolly christmas - lark green - 2/5

this book was truly just fine. like, the definition of pretty alright. the tropes weren't my thing and the romance felt wildly rushed, but the writing style was easy to read and there were some funny bits. i also felt like the demon characters fell pretty flat? idk felt mid overall. (tbh the highlights of this book were when rom and noelle showed up. my babiesssss)

holidays ablaze - lucy limon - 3/5

v cute 👍 i love samite he's so autistic 💗

last months goal: finish dune

hmm ok. so i did not finish dune. i don't know why i thought i could. whatever possessed me to believe i could finish an 800 page sci-fi book in one month was truly of the devil herself. what the fuck. that was a blatant temptation towards hubris and I FELL FOR IT. anyways i hit 300 pages. everyone clap.

this months goal: finish a re-read

i have a lot of books i'd like to re-read but!!! i just never get around to it!!!! there r always newer shinier books that grab my attention!! i'd also like to carve away a more sizable chunk of my physical tbr this month because i have officially run out of space on my bookshelf TwT. everything is so so crammed in there, i truly cannot afford any more physical books. public library here i come!!

[vickyvicarious]

Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my memoranda, relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in fact all that might be useful to me were I once outside the castle. I sat and pondered awhile, and then some thought occurred to me, and I made search of my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I had placed my clothes.

The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat and rug; I could find no trace of them anywhere.

The items Dracula takes have some fun implications. Regardless of whether you think he rushed off to steal these things as soon as he locked Jonathan in the study last entry, or if you think he took them a few days later, he has two clear goals here: prevent Jonathan from writing, and more importantly prevent Jonathan from leaving. Both point to him having a fear of losing control of the situation.

Sure, this escalates the mental torture. But it also suggests that, after seeing Jonathan's shorthand letter, Dracula became aware that his guest is more resourceful than he expected. Jonathan has access to at least one kind of knowledge which Dracula does not. There could be others (in fact, there is the diary). So. He takes away his writing materials - he won't be able to write any more coded letters. But Jonathan does still have access to paper as long as he has access to the study. If he's very resourceful he could rip pages out of a few books, fold up notes, maybe craft a sort of envelope by folding paper. It's not nearly as likely but it isn't impossible. The other aspect of preventing Jonathan from getting a message out is probably to keep a closer eye on him, to isolate him further from the people around him.

But he's already tried to send one letter. He arrived in the castle weighed down with anti-vampire gifts. Whatever language barrier he has is obviously not enough to keep him from receiving aid from the locals should he get out somehow - and after the incident with him encountering the vampire ladies as well as this letter, Dracula is no longer just assuming Jonathan can never get out. He is taking precautions to ensure he won't get far when he does.

He won't be able to get money with his letter of credit. He won't have access to his notes about the surrounding area or the dictionary that helped him to communicate better. He won't know where to go or when to get on a train heading far away from here. And more than that - he won't have his travel clothes, he won't have his coat and rug (basically a travel blanket to keep you warm). This might make him less likely to try an escape, which is a bonus, but the focus is on ensuring Jonathan cannot get out of Dracula's reach. He will be slowed down enough - by weather, by difficulty communicating, by uncertainty about where to go - that Dracula can catch up to him and stop him.

If needed, of course. It's not to say that this will be needed, and certainly Dracula would prefer it not to be, because that would spell a firm end to this game. But he now feels the need to prepare for such an eventuality. It's not just about stepping up the encroachment on Jonathan's space/privacy/belongings. That's a bonus for sure! But taking these things also points to him feeling threatened to some degree.

And not just by Jonathan, either. If his control over the locals were as complete as he presents it, I don't think he would be this worried. But his actions here actually support the interpretation that he was bluffing when he implied that the man to whom Jonathan entrusted his letter sold him out. Or at the very least, Dracula doesn't have confidence that everyone would sell Jonathan out. He fears that they might take a message, so he has to steal his writing materials. He fears that Jonathan might find a way out of the castle, so he ensures he won't get far.

Implying that the Romani who work for him will never help Jonathan is intended to build a sense of isolation in Jonathan. He wants to erode trust, to make Jonathan feel like he cannot rely on anyone else (except his friend Dracula, who protects him from worse dangers). That means, even if they did want to help him, he will try to make Jonathan think no one is even interested in doing so. It means he will keep him separated from them as much as possible. It means that he will do anything to break down trust and ensure Jonathan cannot access a support system.

Because if he has no support system, then if (when) he tries to escape he will have to do so all alone. And without the things Dracula took from him today, it's not likely that he will get very far. Not before Dracula catches up to him, anyway.

.

A few more spoilery notes below the cut:

In the last entry Dracula tried to ensure Jonathan wouldn't seek help from the Romani. When he goes out in Jonathan's clothes to kill people, he is trying to ensure the local villagers will not offer him help. Both are aimed at isolating him, and when you think about it they imply Dracula is concerned that Jonathan would be able to get help if not for these measures. Later on the wolves escalate matters even further, adding yet another layer of difficulty aimed to ensure Jonathan doesn't try to just leave. Because Dracula no longer puts it past him to somehow manage to do that.

And yet, at the same time, he's enjoying his time with Jonathan too much to end it prematurely by stopping him permanently. Dracula is arrogant enough to believe he can control the situation long enough to have his cake and eat it too, basically. But in the end, he was wrong to not ensure that Jonathan was taken care of, because as soon as he knew there was no more time to play the waiting game, Jonathan acted. And yeah, he was indeed capable of getting out. He was capable of moving very quickly, even with the obstacles put in place by the missing belongings, and he was capable of finding people who were willing to be kind to him. Jonathan's timing was perfect in the end because he waited out Dracula who could and would have hunted him down. The vampire ladies either don't have the control, the range, or the interest to do so.

Dracula is forced to acknowledge that Jonathan is clever, but he refuses to see just how much. He insists on treating him merely as prey trying to escape, who just needs a better trap. But Jonathan isn't merely going to flee, he eventually becomes the predator himself. The knowledge he has is absolutely vital to defeating Dracula; he's aware that he is a threat to the Count from early on. And if Dracula had been willing to truly play it safe here, he would have killed Jonathan before leaving. But that would require treating him as a legitimate threat. That would require Dracula to stop indulging himself with Jonathan. And Jonathan is so good at playing along, so good at being fun to toy with, that Dracula really doesn't want to stop. Not to mention his arrogance and expectation that he can surely handle this one man. And he can - until he leaves his castle. Then Jonathan is finally free to act.

And sure, it's no immediate victory. It's certainly not a one-man crusade or dependent on Jonathan alone. But that was never the danger Jonathan represented anyway - his escape represents knowledge getting out, spreading freely. His escape represents people freeing themselves from Dracula's control, acting without his awareness. And it happens, and it leads to Dracula being killed once and for all. Because Jonathan plays along, and because Dracula enjoys it and doesn't want to admit to the threat.

[zucchinibread777books]

Book Review

I was between 4 and 3 stars with this book, but upon further reflection, I think I have to go with 3. I don't have a fully set rating system yet for following but I'll get one eventually.

TW for the book and for things discussed in this post! Descriptive SA and rape scenes, domestic abuse, bug horror, animal horror, sexism, institutional racism, death, sexual depiction of minors, mention of Nazis

Positives of this book: I will start out by saying that this book really captures your attention and it is entertaining to some extent. The author set out with a main theme in mind and he achieved it, at least in the way he wanted to. In terms of fitting its genre of horror, it is definitely horrifying.

Disclaimer before the negatives: these are my personal opinions, if you enjoyed the book great! Horror is not my go-to genre so it makes sense that I enjoyed it less than other books. I think it is a great book to read and dissect, and would be especially good for a book club or class to talk about. That being said, I wouldn't suggest buying a copy before reading, maybe check out your local library first.

Now to begin the critique.

When I was in Uni, a professor told me that while inclusion is important, writing about the trauma and issues of a mistreated group that I am not a part of is a slippery slope that is best avoided. I think this book is a perfect example of why.

Let's discuss feminism and this book.

The author begins this novel with an author's note, in which he states "With this book, I wanted to pit a man freed from all responsibilities but his appetites against women whose lives are shaped by their endless responsibilities. I wanted to pit Dracula against my mom. As you'll see, it's not a fair fight." (pg 8)

While this author set out to showcase men's "appetites against women", he missed some marks in his representation. This work framed itself as a sort of feminist piece of media, a commentary on society specifically in the late 20th century, but really only scraped slightly under the surface, and didn't quite say more than what's already been said. And with that quote, he implies a crushing victory from his mom's side, but it turns out to be a bit of the opposite.

In the prologue, he talks about 5 little girls, born in blood and raised to be "proper young ladies, instructed in the wifely arts to become perfect partners and responsible parents..." (page 9). He repeats throughout the prologue that the story will end in blood "they will drip with it. They will swim in it. They will drown in it" (page 10). A bit dramatic in my opinion because really they only end up doing the first of those things, but also clearly written by a man because of his focus on blood at the beginning and the end of the story. These are women, there is plenty of blood throughout the story that he seems to have forgotten the existence of. Ironic honestly.

In the beginning of the story, main character Patricia Campbell expresses her inability to read the book club book because of the stress of parenting. This stress being constant disasters such as her daughter setting her son's hair on fire, her daughter telling everyone that she died, her sun running outside naked, among other things. While she does mention the simple stresses like dishes, laundry, and taking care of her mother-in-law, it seems her family is always having some disaster to make matters worse. While some of the problems are a bit comedic, the frequency of near-death scares in their family takes away from the very real situations that stay-at-home mothers face. The author set out to portray real mothers and yet doesn't seem to respect just how exhausting normal daily chores are without the addition of wild situations that, while they could happen, would not be quite as frequent as he makes them seem.

Then there is Marjorie Fretwell, who exists only to be the overbearing leader of the book club, who is not mentioned again after the first section. Grace Cavanaugh seems to take her place as the token "proper lady" from then on, and where Marjorie lacked any characterization to contextualize her personality, Grace is at least given the passing detail that her husband is abusive. (chapter 22). Side note- Patricia seems to be entirely ignorant of the clear domestic abuse until she randomly spits it out against Grace. When exactly did she connect those dots? This book is written in 3rd person limited, we should have seen the moment she realized (of course the reader definitely realized much faster). After that detail, Grace is mostly removed from the plot (except the moment they try to convince her ch36) until she randomly decides that she will help them in ch40. She saves the day without doing any of the dirty work, and in the epilogue gets no closure whatsoever. Despite being the only one outwardly abused by her husband, she gives the entirety of her only store of emergency money to Patricia (pg 402). Patricia gets the happy ending of a divorce but the abuse against Grace isn't outwardly mentioned again after that initial outburst by Patricia. The other women's lives are similarly ignored throughout the text. Patricia is the main character, but that doesn't mean she should be the only one with closure.

Speaking of side characters, let's discuss Slick. The friend who believed Patricia and stayed by her side. That is until she betrays her As it states, "It never occurred to her not to trust Slick" (pg 281). But that's not exactly what happened. Patricia thinks "She had told him she was here. That was why Slick hadn't come....her Christian values couldn't stand to bend the rules...."(pg 299) Despite the obvious setup, Slick didn't really betray her. Instead, she was uncharacteristically stupid. These women read countless true crime books. They knew the danger of one-on-one confrontation with murderous men. And yet Slick thinks it is smart to call James Harris and tell him everything? Putting herself and her friend in danger? And soon after this scene, Patricia decides she needs to do the same? (pg 319)

And this leads to one of my biggest issues with this book, the rape. I'm not sure the author knows the definition of a metaphor, because while he wants to show how vampires are "the original serial killers", he can't help but just have them outwardly do the bad shit that they're meant to be symbols of. He wants to talk about the appetites of men, represented by vampires and their consumption, only to forego the vampire side in favor of direct male violence against women. In fact, there's very little about this book that actually uses the vampire as a vampire. Other than a few random horrors added in here and there, James Harris very much was just a disgusting man. The rape comes out of nowhere and doesn't fit in with anything else in the plot. In fact, we never really find out how the timing works because Blue claims to have been with him the whole time and never admits to anything else. But it seems even this author is obsessed with the idea that men can fundamentally change women with their dick. Because with no further explanation, this vampire turns people by raping them. And it literally kills Slick.

Obligatory women-written-by-men quotes: "Slick's breasts were small and pale and the way she was hunched over, the way her ribs stuck out, the way her breasts hung lifeless, she reminded Patricia of a plucked chicken." (pg 313) "He knelt between the smooth long legs of a girl with a flat stomach and firm, upturned, underdeveloped teenage breasts." (pg 335)

As if that wasn't enough, it turns out that while we were distracted, James Harris was also raping Korey, Patricia's daughter. And Korey was enjoying it. I truly don't know where to begin with that.

After this scene is when the author decides to just outright state what he was trying to show through his work. "He wanted her family....This man was a vampire, or as close to one as she would ever see....They have a hunger on them. They never stop taking. They mortgaged their souls away and now they eat and eat and eat and never know how to stop.....He wanted to have a family because he didn't know how to stop. He always wanted more....He would say anything to get what he wanted. He had no limits." (pg 341) Thanks, we definitely didn't get any of that from subtext. Definitely needed a whole page to explain it.

Now that he has done it once, of course the vampire isn't going to stop with the rape. As one final slap in the face, Patricia agrees to it, to be bait while the others kill him. And when she discusses it with his first victim, Slick, afterwards, she says "'It felt so good....I know why they hurt themselves...It's this feeling of things being whole and stable and warm and safe, and you want it back so badly, but it's just slipping away over the horizon and you feel like you'll never get it back again and you don't want to live without it.'"(pg 393-394) What exactly does this show about the author's thoughts about rape? Victims hate themselves because they secretly loved it and want more? The rapes themselves were so unnecessary but adding this is so much worse. There were so many ways this could have been written differently, ways that he could have made the vampire metaphor work without the outward and descriptive rapes, ways that he could have showed how consuming men are without making the women enjoy it. It's a horror novel and he wrote the most horrific reality in, only to say it actually wasn't so horrific after all.

And in the end the women don't win. They cut him up but he's still alive. There's the implication that one day he'll come back and do it all over. Only one of the women divorce their horrible husbands, and one woman dies despite everything. We see a woman piss herself. Another is left with nightmares. Another covered herself with blood doing the dirty work for them. And they don't even try to burn his remains. This is not the clear win that he implied in his author's note."not a fair fight"???? the vampire literally can't die. What are you even saying. Even his mom believed she would have done better, the person that Patricia is obviously based on. Here is a quote from an interview I'll link below "Also, she feels like she would have handled a vampire much more efficiently and with less horsing around." I am curious how she felt about him writing her character in such a sexual scene as well, I'm sure Freud would have some opinions on that.

Honestly, I have so much more to say but I'm just gonna sum up the rest bc this is long enough as is.

Racism is mentioned a few times, but just as a plot device to explain away things like a community not noticing missing people. Not discussed very deeply and even the MC contributes to it, only caring about the kids bc they could have been hers. The only black character we really meet fits deeply into an archetype and is also the one who does all the dirty work.

Blue, Patricia's son, is obsessed with Nazis and even later begins abusing animals. This is used to distract Patricia from other things, and the minute it stops being useful it isn't really acknowledged again. After reading the interviews, it seems this was just a self-insert by the author because he too was into fucked up things as a child.

The kids side with Patricia in the divorce. This makes no sense to their characters. They hate their mom, believe she is unstable, show no beef with their father, and give no reason to pick their mom over the father. Feels like a pile of shit wrapped with a nice little bow kind of ending to show that Patricia did win in the end.

The Vampire lore is kind of all over the place. No explanation is really given about how much is true with vampires in this story. He needs to be invited in, we think. There is no proof that he couldn't have entered a house without being invited. He can control rats and that is only used one single time for horror purposes, but it would have made more sense for him to kill the mother-in-law himself, especially because she told him she has a picture and he'd want to look for that. They are handed a way to kill him on a platter, but they don't do it until after chopping him up entirely, and it doesn't kill him anyway. Is he even a vampire? It is in the title but the characters are constantly unsure, and it is implied that there's actually some sort of leech inside each "vampire" that corrupts them.

Ghosts are similarly just kind of there. The mother-in-law visits characters a few times but her advice ends up being mostly pointless. Her presence isn't really explained or necessary

The three-year gap was just kind of an odd choice. I get that it was meant to show the roots that he was digging into their society, but we're meant to just accept that she knew he was hurting people that whole time and did nothing? It would have been better if it was before she found out about him. A bigger betrayal and a deeper commentary on how they didn't care about the children in the area over.

The discussion questions included at the end of the book are just kinda.....lame? It's like he expects this to be discussed in a high school setting (high schoolers better fucking not be reading this book) but he doesn't even have a discussion question directly about how well he compared vampirism to men and their consumption.

The bug horror I didn't discuss much because it was fine I guess. The attic scene felt appropriate for the story but the cockroach in the mother-in-law's cup was just kinda weird.

There's so much to discuss in this book that I honestly wish I had read it for a book club or a class. I'd be fascinated to hear how others felt about his position as a man writing this book. here's the interview link:

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - July 1

Seward speaks!

“His spiders are now becoming as great a nuisance as his flies, and to-day I told him that he must get rid of them. He looked very sad at this, so I said that he must clear out some of them, at all events.”

First of all, this is what happens when you decide to run thought experiments on your patients to take away from the fact that you got rejected. Harsh? Yes, but am I wrong??

Also, I love that Renfield looks so sad that Jack lowers the “all” to “some”. He has no logical reason to do this, except that he feels bad. I know Seward does a lot of bad doctor things (and we WILL get there), but it is nice to notice those traces of him being sympathetic when he doesn’t have to be. Also, it’s funny to imagine how the conversation went:

Seward: you have too many flies and spiders in here. You need to get rid of all of them.

Renfield: …all of them?

Seward: yes! All of them.

Renfield: oh…ok…I see…😔😔💔🥺🥺🥺🥺

Seward: …

Seward: ok, FINE. You can keep SOME of them.

Renfield: really??

Seward: But I expect a reduction of these things in the next three days!

Renfield: you got it! :D

Renfield literally pulled “puppy dog eyes” and it worked! Good for him.

“He disgusted me much while with him, for when a horrid blow-fly, bloated with some carrion food, buzzed into the room, he caught it, held it exultantly for a few moments between his finger and thumb, and, before I knew what he was going to do, put it in his mouth and ate it. I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and very wholesome; that it was life, strong life, and gave life to him.”

Hey, buddy, if you don’t want to be grossed out by the guy LITERALLY CATCHING BUGS FOR FUN, maybe don’t study him under a microscope?

Also, again, Renfield doesn’t argue with Seward in an unrestrained or violent manner: he quietly pushes back that the fly “[gives] him life”. Now as far as depiction of mental illnesses go, I would say Renfield is far from being the best — of course — but I will say it’s interesting that Stoker deliberately breaks the stereotype of him being unhinged or violently angry when his ideals are challenged. Did this man just eat a fly? Yep. Did he also then calmly assert it’s good protein for him? Also, yes. While we know something deeper is going on with Renfield, as far as most readers knew at this point in the story, he was just another man in an asylum. I do know there was somewhat of a shift in how mentally ill characters were being portrayed — still not great overall, but now showing them as more calm and rational than previous characters: Jekyll from the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, as well as the Woman from The Yellow Wallpaper come to mind as examples of this. Like I said, not great depictions — just different and more complex shifts in how mental illnesses were shown in literature.

“This gave me an idea, or the rudiment of one. I must watch how he gets rid of his spiders.”

Yep!! Be warned, Seward. I don’t think he gets rid of these spiders in a normal way. Although it’s funny he’s like “I just watched him eat a fly. Disgusting. I must observe him further to see if he does it again with the spiders.” 😂😂😂

“He has evidently some deep problem in his mind, for he keeps a little note-book in which he is always jotting down something. Whole pages of it are filled with masses of figures, generally single numbers added up in batches, and then the totals added in batches again, as though he were ‘focussing’ some account, as the auditors put it.”

Hey, we all have our hobbies, you don’t have to call it a problem of the mind: rude 🙄. You’d think he’d call the fly thing more of a “mind problem” but I guess that’s fine? Also, hmm, adding up single numbers as if he’s making an account? And he wrote it down right after you saw him eat a fly? That doesn’t seem weird to you, Seward? Or perhaps he does intuit the meaning and doesn’t want to think about it/put it down before he knows for sure yet. If that latter, he’s just like Jonathan in that regard! I’m not surprised Lucy recommended him for Mina LOL. I’ll keep looking out for more similarities!

That’s all for this entry, let’s see what Renfield does next!

[totallynotreadingatwork]

More Mini Book Reviews

Truly, Darkly, Deeply by Victoria Selman - Not my usual thing, but I picked it up and read it anyway because why not and it was alright! I thought the ending was a bit naff, but the rest of it explored some pretty interesting ideas. It was about a girl whose mum was dating a serial killer (obviously they didn't know at the time) and how his arrest really impacted them.

Temeraire or His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik, book 1 of the Temeraire series - Not me out here almost crying at the connection between man and beast. Seriously I really loved this one, it's like Httyd but for adults, and I'm absolutely living for it. Also I really like books about ships - something about the idea of a crew really appeals to me I think - and this really hit that spot for me. Also, the dragons are cool.

Scarlet by Genevieve Cogman, book 1 of the Scarlet Revolution Series - Basically just some good fun! It's not a vampire romance as many will be pleased to know, and the vampires do actually pose a threat, which is nice. It's set in an alternate-universe French revolution, and explores such ideas as 'hmm, maybe the beheadings were a bit too far but would it really be so bad to take down all the rich people?'. Idk, I enjoyed it.

The Witch's Warning by Joseph Delaney, book 2 (the final book) of the Aberrations series - Very good indeed, Delaney is brilliant at making dark spooky worlds full of horrors and monsters. Just really is a shame he died before he could finish the series as the only thing that lets this book down is that it spends a fair bit of time building up to a sequel that never gets to happen.

The Family Remains by Lisa Jewel, the sequel to The Family Upstairs - Really, really good follow-up book to the first one, using everything you learned about the characters there to build tension in this one. Lots of different things happening, multiple POVs, interconnecting storylines, and wrapping up some loose plot points from the last book. I recommend this pair a lot to people in the library and most seem to like it!

Spook's: Alice by Joseph Delaney, book 12 of the Wardstone Chronicles - God I love this character. As with all of this series, you can definitely tell they're books written for children, but that doesn't mean they're bad, nor do they shy away from some pretty gruesome stuff. We're winding up now for the final book as this is the second to last and things are looking exciting. I can't say too much about this one without spoiling it unfortunately but just know that it's as solid as the rest of the series.

The Outlaws Scarlett and Browne by Jonathan Stroud, book 1 of the Scarlett and Browne series - I actually read this before a couple of years ago and decided to read it again before I read the sequel because I'd forgotten what happened. It's a really good book; Stroud really know what he's doing. If you liked Lockwood & Co. for the character interactions then you'll love this. The worldbuilding is on point, the characters feel full-dimensional, and the hijinks is everpresent. Just a really fun read.

Dracula by Bram Stoker - I went to Whitby on holiday for a few days so naturally took this with me. I don't read very many classics at all so it took a little while for me to tune into the language and get used to everyone taking two pages to say what could have been said in two sentences, but once I did I had a grand old time with it. I wouldn't say it's anywhere near scary by today's standards, but it was interesting to see where a lot of modern tropes got their origins. Also, I've read Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu before and it was cool to be able to mentally compare and contrast them and see where Bram Stoker was inspired by different things.

The Notorious Scarlett and Browne by Jonathan Stroud, book 2 of the Scarlett and Browne series - Just as good as the first if not better. Where the first book focused more on Albert and where he'd come from and his backstory, in this one we explore more of Scarlett's history and how she came to be the person she is today. Fast-paced, witty, and packed with actions, I really enjoyed it and strongly recommend it!

The Mystery of Three Quarters by Sophie Hannah - Read this one for my book club and it was... alright. Nothing special, but not bad enough to not finish. I didn't manage to solve the mystery unfortunately but that's no surprise, though I will say that it did feel pretty convoluted. Not too sure why the character of Hercule Poirot was used other than to cash in on the name of course, and Sophie Hannah is definitely no Agatha Christie, but, like I said, it was okay.

Girls With Razor Hearts by Suzanne Young, book 2 of the Girls With Sharp Sticks series - Sometimes, you just want to read a book about sisterhood and taking down the patriarchy. From some of the fics I've seen around, people who really enjoyed those parts of the Barbie movie might enjoy these books. They're by no means subtle in their messaging, but sometimes I like a book that just lays everything out on the table in front of you because it's borderline impossible to misinterpret them. Definitely feels like a teen-fic book, but that's okay because it is one.

The Son of Neptune by Rick Riordan, book 2 of the Heroes of Olympus series - Do I really need to say anything about this one? We all know Riordan is brilliant.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield - Oh boy this one was A Lot TM. Kind of an eldritch horror story in Leah's bits, and then a story about mourning someone who's not really gone and learning to let go in Miri's chapters. Very much a 'came back wrong' sort of scenario, but less scary and more just deeply sad. I had to take a break and go look at trees for a while after I finished it. The ending was low-key heartbreaking.

Revival by Stephen King - Sort of promised myself I wouldn't read any more of his books but here I am. This one was actually pretty good for the most part though! Not very horror-y, I didn't think, but still a good story. The only bit I didn't like was when the 52 year old protagonist is sleeping with the 24 year old daughter of his co-worker, but I honestly should have expected that because this is a Stephen King book.

[shedontsmelltoogooddarious]

Blood and Aphsalt; Let me sleep, kid.

Another drabble for The Hitcher, with Flint being a pest. I maybe cring, but I am freeeee

Flint dug through the duffle bag, socks and shirts being tossed side into the backseat of John's current car before a book was pulled out. They grinned, flipping through the pages until coming to a blank one. It was one of the few things they had to keep entertained, to keep sane on this road trip from hell. They looked over John's sleeping figure, before looking down at their wrists handcuffed together. He made it a habit everytime he took a nap on the road side, or went to sleep at night- having Flint bound to him made sure that they didn't wander off into the desert to get into even more shit then they already caused.

“John, you're snoring.” 

Their eyes rolled, before shoving his shoulder. He grunted, groaning before turning to face them as his eyes lazily opened. For a moment he debated on whether to smack the kid beside him, but he decided against it- pissing off Dracula jr wasn’t worth the trouble. “And?” 

He asked, yawning before looking up at them with his piercing blue eyes. “And its annoying, and you’ll get us caught with how loud you are.” 

They smirked, putting pencil against paper. John watched, listening to lead grate against cheap paper, lines becoming messy shapes. Soon it turned into the drawing of a face, his face, staring dazedly into nothing. Flint’s sketches were slowly improving, but John had never really acknowledged it- until now. “Say, you know what would make it look even better?” 

He asked, prompting Flint to look away from their drawing. “It would look better if you let me damn sleep!” 

Ryder turned to his back once more, closing his eyes as he could hear Flint curse him out from under their breath. A few minutes later, they too laid on their back and stared up at the blood stained ceiling. They remained silent, turning their head to John once more. 

“You’re not sleeping.” 

“Yes I am.” 

They raised a brow. “Then what are you dreaming of?” 

Once more, John partially opened his eyes- but this time staring up at the same bloody ceiling. He had plenty of dreams, vivid, gorey dreams- but recently there had been an occurrence of scattered dreams of him and the kid in California, living a normal life, as normal as his mind allowed it. Hell, there was an instance of where they called him dad and he *liked it*, that’s what scared John the most- he had to find someone to take them off his hands before he *hurts them*.

“Disney-land.” 

He smiled, closing his eyes. This time, Flint closed their eyes as well. “Can we go to Disney-land someday?” 

They snorted. 

“Yeah kid, I promise.”