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readingrobin · 2 years ago

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June was the beginning of summer reading and man did I come out swinging. If you've been following me for a while, you know that summer reading is a BFD at my work and we have a competition between departments to see who can read the most. The winning department is awarded a 3D printed trophy of a pineapple to store in their office for the rest of the year. My department hasn't won since I switched roles in the library, but really that does not do anything to hurt my competitive nature. I'm a little bit behind where I want to be in my goal towards a specific point total, but it won't be hard to catch up. Gotta give Youth Services a run for their money.

Total Books Reads: 14

Total Pages Read: 5,608

Books Read:

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich by Deya Muniz (4/5) - An undeniably sweet, charming, hilarious love story that really puts you in the mood for a toasty grilled cheese. Seriously, I must have had three separate cravings while reading this comic. Each character has such a lovable personality, from Camembert's at times clueless, yet endearing nature, to Brie's sweetness and passion for her causes. They work well as a duo, their personalities a true compliment to each other.

The artwork is absolutely stunning, especially when to comes to the outfits. It gave me flashbacks to The Prince and the Dressmaker in how articulate and gorgeous they could be. Brie's commitment to pink really makes each one of her wardrobes leap off the page, and, again, brings a great balance when seen with Cam's deeper palettes.

I somewhat like the anachronistic aspect of the story, that you have traditional depictions of the monarchy with lavish balls and opulence that you would expect out of a fairy tale, and then someone would literally be playing with a Nintendo Switch in the next scene. It plays with the theme of steering away from tradition, depicting more contemporary, progressive-minded characters in a world that still holds onto the aesthetics of the past.

The Bloody Chamber: And Other Stories by Angela Carter (4.5/5) - Review

The Coyote Road: Trickster Tales edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (3.5/5) - Trickster tales are my bread and butter: Coyote, Hermes, Loki, Crow, Anansi, each one so varied in their mischief but share a great chaotic force. This archetype has always fascinated me, particularly in how involved they are in humanity, whether that means taking an active role in a creation myth or imparting some wisdom that helps humankind develop in a world that is always in flux. This anthology sports many of these figures, as well as some original ones, and mostly gets its job done of portraying various tricksy individuals.

Like any anthology, it had its hits and its misses. My favorite was "The Fiddler of Bayou Teche" by Delia Sherman. The atmosphere of this particular story really stood out amongst the rest, as well as the voice of the narrator, who has a Cajun vernacular that sucks you even more into the setting. The inclusion of the loup garou also is a massive plus for me. Always a sucker for werewolves am I.

Other stories I enjoyed were "One Odd Shoe," "The Listeners," "Crow Roads," "A Reversal of Fortune," and "Black Rock Blues." Probably a bit of a sign that, out of 26 stories, I only resonated with a small fraction of them, but that's just how it goes. I was definitely thinking by the end that the anthology felt a bit too weighty, or perhaps I was trying to read too much in one go. A lot of the more middling stories were unfortunately stuck in the second half, so by the end it felt a little bit more of a chore to get through.

Burning Down the Haus: Punk Rock, Revolution and the Fall of the Berlin Wall by Tim Mohr (3/5) - An interesting snapshot in history of the punk movement during the time of the Berlin Wall. The author makes the bold claim that the punk presence was a cause for the fall of the wall when he doesn't really say anything to back that information up. The book mainly talks about specific people within the punk community and the challenge of trying to live a subversive lifestyle when going against the status quo could get you arrested. The journeys of some of the people were very engaging, though some did seem more fleshed out than others and many didn't get much of a resolution. I would have loved to have read some retrospectives from some of the people in the community, as it seemed that the author was in contact with them, just to get a wider scope of their stories.

Squire and Knight Vol. 1 by Scott Chantler (4/5) - A charming, funny graphic novel that champions the thought of books over brawn, shown through a young squire saving the day by using his intelligence and reason to get to the bottom of a cursed town. The art of the comic is wonderfully fall-like, the author sticking to a palette of muted oranges, yellows, blacks, and greys that also give it a distinct medieval vibe. Definitely a worthwhile quick read if you like a bit of mystery and humor with your quest narratives.

Also there's a cool looking dragon in it, which should be enough for anyone to read anything really.

Spindle's End by Robin McKinley (4/5) - Robin McKinley has such a fine way of transforming ages old stories and making them more vibrant and engaging for a modern audience. Given how passive Sleeping Beauty is in her own fairy tale at times, McKinley does a phenomenal job of making Rosie a very active agent in her own story in this retelling. Her stubborn, determined, and no nonsense attitude had an odd way of making her endlessly endearing and her rise to action in the climax, as well as her sacrifices, solidified her as a strong, layered character.

The world is so mischievously magical, to the point where fish are a myth and, if you let your kettles unattended, the magic dust settling over them may lead to a surprise of snakes in the pot. McKinley's descriptive style only adds to the mysterious wonder of this land, not making it too difficult to feel yourself instantly transported within its pages.

Since I am a big fan of female friendships that are polar opposites, like the rough and tumble Rosie and the beautiful, princess-like Peony, it's always a shame when those relationships fall second place behind the romantic interests that have all the appeal of drying plaster. Also, how old exactly is Narl? He's already a smith by the time Rosie is a baby and she develops feelings for him by the time she's 16 having known him her whole life. I have no idea why large age gap romances with emotionally distant men are such a trend in fantasy but I really I think we've had enough of them.

Other than that, this was a stand out read for me, which is a welcome surprise since I found her other work, like Beauty and The Outlaws of Sherwood to be a bit middling.

Violet and Jobie in the Wild by Lynne Rae Perkins (3/5) - Read this book as it is my library's book of the summer for this year. It's a simple, sweet story that deals with adapting to new situations shown through two house mice suddenly finding themselves living in the wild. Since the story stuck mostly to lighthearted adventure, I was surprised by its somewhat bittersweet ending. It was a little more mature that what I usually expect out of stories like this, saying that sometimes people drift away from who they love to get where they need to be, and that's all right. The memory of them is what keeps that love alive and I thought that was a sweet sentiment to end on.

The Secrets of Chocolate: A Gourmand's Trip through a Top Chef's Atelier by Franckie Alarcon (2.5/5) - Has some great insight into the process of chocolate making, as well as some scrumptious illustrations that really had me craving some chocolate afterwards. It was a so so reading experience and I mainly read it to fill a category for summer reading, so I can't really give it too high a rating.

The Sandman: Act III by Neil Gaiman (5/5) - Another gorgeous installment in the Sandman Audible series. Seeing as this one collections the Orpheus story, it has some wonderful, beautiful, and melancholic music to it. The full cast brings each character to life and I continue to be impressed at how truly immersive this series is as an audiobook.

The Dead Romantics by Ashley Poston (4/5) - Romances aren't usually my kind of thing, but when you mix in the qualms of a struggling author with ghostly shenanigans, then that makes a title a little more enticing. It also helps that the story focuses on the vulnerabilities surrounding grief as well as love. Florence's emotional journey was such a compelling element, especially when she holds so many fears, aspirations, and insecurities that seeing her come to terms with them feels like more of a triumph.

Though there was plenty of raw emotions in this book, it never turned morose. There is something comforting about seeing Florence rekindle her love for her hometown and finding refuge in her family. Tensions run high at times, but ultimately they're there for each other and somehow make a funeral home feel like a lively place. It's an oddly cozy book at times, full of reflection and soft moments.

Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley (4/5) - Firekeeper's Daughter is such a powerful, heartbreaking, but necessary book. Boulley takes the complicated life of Daunis, full of grief and pain. but also an unwavering love and devotion to her family and community. I love how the author speaks of Daunis in relation to her community, that she finds solidarity, wisdom, and support in the Elders that hold the traditions and knowledge of her heritage. Daunis comes from a mixed background, but being Ojibwe is a fundamental part of her character and how she views herself. I loved that she always felt confident in who she was, even when so many refused to recognize her place in the tribe.

I have to say, this book was hard to read at times. Daunis faces so many betrayals and moments where people try and succeed to take advantage of her. It's difficult to see a community in danger because of people who only want to use it for their own selfish desires. The stakes are what make Daunis' every move so important and, even when some decisions don't seem so smart in the moment, you know she's doing everything she can to make sure the people that she loves stay safe.

Her relationship with Jaimie I felt was handled very maturely. It feels like a natural parallel to Travis' and Lily's, one that knows and respects the aspects of love and what comes with it and one that doesn't. Boulley makes it abundantly clear through so many plotlines that self serving actions are what truly destroy a community and harmony with its members.

Definitely worthy of its many accolades and a great conversation starter for many of the issues it discusses.

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall (3/5) - Review

Spider-verse by Dan Slott (4/5) - An epic Spidey tale for the ages. Though there were SEVERAL Spider people that I was not familiar with, I felt like the story handled/balanced them well enough with the more recognizable ones so it never felt too confusing. I'm sure many of them were introduced in this event series (I definitely tracked this story down solely for reading anything that involved Spiderpunk) so I didn't feel outrageously out of the loop.

While I felt that the story dragged on and off, I never got too bored with it. I wish that the omnibus I read had organized the comics so that certain character-specific issues were included at the time they happened within the overall story. Scarlet Spider, Spiderwoman, and Spiderman 2099 have separate issues that tie directly to the overall plot and are collected after its end, which make them feel like a pointless bit of catch up. They are exciting and important issues, but they could have been integrated a little more coherently.

Definitely going to see if I can track down some more Spiderverse event comics.

Edge of Spider-Geddon by Gerardo Sandoval, Jason Latour, Zac Thompson, et al. (3.5/5) - Sort of a setup for a larger event comic, but gave great introductions/reintroductions to more Spideys across the multiverse. Also, I am a simple creature, and when I see Spiderpunk on the cover, you can bet that I am going to read it in a heartbeat.

Average Rating: 3.71

#robin's book log #reading wrap up #monthly wrap up #the princess and the grilled cheese sandwich #the bloody chamber #the coyote road #burning down the haus #squire and knight #spindle's end #violet and jobie in the wild #secrets of chocolate #the dead romantics #firekeeper's daughter #mortal follies #spider verse #edge of spider-geddon

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yeyinde · 8 months ago

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piggybacking off of @ceilidho 's dog soap idea with something awful lmao

You first notice it when you catch him staring at you from the crack of your bedroom door.

He's sitting in the dimly lit hallway, only half of his face peering into the sliver of space between the white wood of the door and the frame. Just—

Watching.

In the bluegreen glow of the flickering screen (Robert Stack paces down a blue hallway, bathed in that hazy, neon glow of early 80s television), he looks more like a lurking shadow than an animal. Eyes dark, and glinting in the soft light like the surface of a placid lake. You think of the dangers lurking beneath the murk when his muzzle dips, the slow refocus of an apex predator acclimating to a sudden change by its prey. The motion almost entire too human, and—

Not.

Not at all. It rides a razor's edge between anthropomorphism and the uncanny valley; the middle a strange, unfathomable realm of eerie discomfort. Something is wrong. The notion prickles against the nape of your neck. Crawls slowly down your back, the spindled gait of a languid spider tickling your skin as it walks over your flesh.

Something is wrong with your dog.

He was fine ten minutes ago. Had his dinner. Went for his walk. You were lazing on the bed flipping through the channels when his ears perked up, head pointed toward the back door.

You didn't think much about it. He had to go. Maybe he heard a rodent rummaging in your garbage. You slipped out of bed, his soft, fuzzy body sliding against your calves as you walked him to the patio, pulling it open and letting him out. He seemed to hesitate at the threshold, though. And while it didn't stand out to you then, it does now. He froze, ears pinning back, flat to his skull, as his fur lifted. Raising high in the air. A whine slipping out—

There was a rustle in the bush. A low noise. A growl. It was probably just the other dog sniffing along the fence, you thought. Your neighbours husky. He placed one paw on the deck, and then turned to you, eyes wet and glossy in the flushed porch light, and—

(and he looked so scared.)

Your breath hitches. Heart twisting in your chest. He's still staring at you from the hall. Unblinking. Expression wild. Wide. Pinning you with his stare. But he's panting. Chest expanding as it heaves through it's snout in quick, shallow breaths. Maybe the other dog scared it. Maybe the husky bit it's paw through the fence. You should check on it—

Him.

Check on him.

He went outside after a moment. Tail flattened between his legs. Drawn toward something you couldn't see, couldn't hear. And you turned around with a smile, waving him off as you walked back to bed. And now—

It's—his—lip curls.

He's never so much as bitten you much less—snarled. The suddenness of it paralyses you. Roots you to bed. Useless and unable to do anything as your dog, your baby boy, lifts his muzzle up with a growl, long, sharp canines dripping red—

"Baby?"

It's a warble when it slips out. Shaky. Scared. The sound of voice makes the dog drop his jowls, cherryred tongue lulling out. Pink, foamy drool spilling to the ground as he pants. His teeth look sharper than they did before. You brush them every night before bed, cooing at him as you scrub his canines clean. Singing some off-key song about dogs and their pretty teeth. He watches you with nothing short of adoration etched into his big, brown eyes. Wide and so trusting, so loving—

It's a harsh juxtaposition to how he looks at you now. Hungrily. Like a starving lion looming over a tired, sickly gazelle. Tongue out, jaws dripping with saliva. Your heart lurches.

"Baby?" You call again and he huffs. The rough noise filling the room, echoing through the hall. Deeper, somehow, than the snarl on his lips. The halfbitten growl booming in his heaving chest. You curl your legs inward under the covers, drawing them tight to your chest as he blinks, slow. Languid. As his lips split wider, wider, and for a moment, you almost trick yourself into seeing a maniacal grin pushing at the corners. Frenzied and full of teeth.

But the lake ripples, and the thought is tucked away. Hidden under a blanket of numbness that spreads, mushrooming over your thoughts. Cobwebbing over the unease that saturates your mind; tiny fangs of a spider piercing through, liquifying them.

He keeps his eyes pinned on you, mouth open wide with his tongue out the side of jaw, and slowly raises himself off of the floor. It's something you've seen him do hundreds of times. Agile flicks. A big stretch. A yawn. A shake.

You wait for it. And wait. Wait—

Something cools on your cheek. Wet, sticky. You don't have to reach up to know that it's tears. They roll down in an endless stream, cold against your frozen face. Unable to move as your mind bends, and bends, but refuses to break. To snap. Shatter. To admit that what you're seeing is real.

That he doesn't shake. He doesn't yawn. He jerks. He twists. Unfamiliar, you think. Like he isn't used to moving with a body this shape. Distorted. Wrong. It snaps. It twitches. He hunches over with his spine bowed and his head slung between his thick front legs, low to the ground but his eyes—

His eyes are on you.

Pinning you down. Glowing in the artificial blue light.

You can't watch him move. Try to walk. It'll skewer through the molasses you let trickle over your fear, curdling in your belly like sour milk. You drag your gaze away from his jerking gait instead, staring, unseeingly, at the television as he limbers onto the bed.

You can smell something on him when he moves close. Rot, you think. Ozone. Pine. Dead leaves. The wet, mossy bark of a fallen tree. Blood. Bad meat.

He looms over you. Snout inches from your cheekbone. The puff of his ragged breath glues uncomfortably to the sticky tears on your face. The air that rattles in and out of his lungs is uneven. Choppy. Inhale too deep. Exhale too shallow. It morphs into snarling rataplan. In-in, out. Inout. In, ininin, out.

Your eyes burn. If your heart beats any harder, any faster, you think you might go into shock. Cardiac arrest. Killed by—

Fear.

That there's blood on his muzzle. You smell it when he leans in close, snout pressing cold and slimy against your cheek.

You're not sure why you do it. Muscle memory, maybe. But your hand lifts. Falls to his head. Nails scratching through matted, oily fur.

He's still staring at you. Whale-eyed. Something inside you whispers not to look. That if you turn your head, all the things hidden under the silk web will bubble to the surface. Things like—

He's big. Too big. Your growing boy.

He smells. He reeks. Got into the garbage again.

He's acting strange. Wrong. He's just scared.

He's going to eat you alive. You love him.

This thing isn't your dog—

He swings his head toward you suddenly, maw open wide, peeling back from those sharp, stained teeth; tongue lulling out—oh god, oh god—and he licks your cheek.

Panic bubbles out of your throat in the shape of a laugh. A giggle. You're going crazy, you think. Hysterical. But you let him lick your face, swiping his too hot tongue over the tears on your cheek. Your nose. Licking into the corners of your eyes. Over your forehead, chin. Jaw.

Its only when his muzzle slides up to your lips do you flinch back. Pull away. "No. N—no. Bad bad. Go—go to sleep, baby."

He huffs, and you stare—resolute, empty—at the blankets when he drops his head down, licking slowly at your rabbiting pulse. Teeth grazing the soft skin of your neck. Nibbling, pinching with his sharp incisors. The gossamer falls. The sheet is pulled back.

The thing stares at you with a hideous, devastating want on its borrowed face. Primordial. Archiac. It's hunger. It's greed. Its a lamb in the lion's den. And you—

You pull the sheet back up. Slowly slide back to the pillows below. Eyes fixed on the ceiling as he looms over you. Your baby boy. There's a huff. A quiet exhale through its nose, and then you feel it move. Twisting. Turning. Curling up against your side, body supine and made of strong, hard muscle. The rough scrape of its fur feels like a beard. Coarse. Wry. Spread out and matted down against its canine body. Burning like a furnace. Reeking of brimstone.

As he settles in his spot, resting his heavy head on your belly (possessively—owner, pet; the lines blur as he flicks his gaze toward you, watchful now and still as heavy, dizzyingly intense as before), you lay awake staring at the ceiling. It'll pass in the morning, you think. He must have eaten something bad. Got into the garbage again. You'll take him to the vet, maybe.

(leave him there—)

He's fine. He's just a little sick, is all. Agitated. It's going to storm tonight. He can feel it in the air. In his joints. Everything will be fine—

Outside, something yowls. The patio door rattles.

Scratch, scratch, scratch—

He huffs, lifting his head with a small snarl pulling on his waxy muzzle. Eyes narrowing into slits. Glaring into the hallway. To the patio.

"Easy, baby," you quaver, and curl your hands into his damp fur. "It's just the wind. It's just the wind—"

Another huff. It sounds rougher this time. Deeper. Masculine. Human.

When he settles back against you, you feel bare skin sliding along your thigh, and realise that the nightmare has just begun.

"Baby? Could get used tae tha'. Are ye gonnae ca' me a good boy too?"

#accidentally put this in my queue instead of my drafts oops #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soapdrabbles

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