april

April 30, 2025

Things I enjoyed in the month of April:

Seanan McGuire, Once Broken Faith:

The Luidaeg waited until they were gone before she turned to me. "What happened?" she asked.
"The same thing that always happens," I said. "We were having a perfectly nice evening until it got ruined by a corpse."
Her smile was full of teeth. "Oh good," she said. "I was worried that it was something serious."


Oh, for fuck's sake, why haven't they made Toby the queen of some faerie realm, already? - she absolutely would not want that, she barely handled a knowe; but still.
Why hasn't the snivelling monarchy drenched her in riches for saving their collective asses time and time again? - she'd probably prefer a lifetime of Pop Tarts and coffee, tbh.
Could they at least have had the decency to pay her bloody, and I mean bloody, laundry bill?! - I bet Toby uses shampoo like the rest of us habitual bleeders ⬅ pro-tip.
I mean, come on, she's lost so much blood (so fucking much, this time with a hand in her chest cavity. Fun!) for them at this point she's basically a pallid, snarky husk of a woman who they simply do not deserve - she's not, she's healthy as a kelpie but I'm raging here, okay.
The bare minimum the immortal autocracy could do whilst swanning about with all their petty squabbles and archaic, binding laws, with Toby losing buckets of blood solving those problems, is say "Thanks, Tobes, great job, here's a ticket to Disneyland, take a load off with your kitty man, we promise not to bug you with our silliness for at least a week."
But noooooooo, she's of lesser blood, a mere changeling with minimal power (starting to think that's not true, however; looking at you, Luidaeg, sea witch of sneaky secrets), they couldn't possibly show her a modicum of respect.
Couldn't inch a toe off their eternal, snooty perch to offer her a crumb of gratitude instead of attempting to kill her and her friends/family/fiancé while she's getting shit done at their behest!
...
Do I sound mad?
Enraged?
Incandescent?
I'm not, so not, I'm actually making grass angels in the endless, rolling dales of Annwn, kicking my heels and giving thanks to whatever catalysed our eventual crawl out of the primordial ooze so that Seanan McGuire could be birthed into existence and the October Daye series delivered into my woman-led Urban Fantasy, snarky heroine-loving, Fae-adoring paws.
It's quite possibly the greatest thing that's ever happened in my reading life - along with a couple dozen other notable instances, and if there's a deity up there, down there, cuddling us all in creepy spectral hug, then all I can say is, "Bitch, you're a peach, thanks for all the brain juice".

I wasn't actually supposed to be reading Once Broken Faith, it wasn't even in the running for my next read, but after starting and struggling my way through the first fifty pages of a well respected author's take on the magic school trope, and dying inside with each word - when I wasn't falling asleep at the reading wheel, there was no other choice but to sayonara that shit-show and trust fall my way back into October Daye's arms and snuggle the fuck down.
Was this the best choice I've made this year so far? It might just be. Which is the power of finding authors you not only love, but trust to deliver you to safety every time you crack open one of their stories. Seanan's one of those authors, and from the very first word of OBF, all that itchy anxiety from the previous book left my body in one great, sweeping whoosh of "thank fuck that's over, it's so nice to be home". And while that home may be stressful, oftentimes gruesome, and full of gnashing, fae teeth, it's one I'm without fail happy to return to, especially now that we're in some ways leaving the Urban part of the series behind.
I know, controversial, and normally I'd be annoyed that a very specifically genred series was leaving such an essential part of its DNA behind, but with Seanan's split world of San Francisco and the Faerie Lands, it's become increasingly apparent that the more interesting stories are taking place in the latter, not the former. Don't get me wrong, I love when Toby leaves a trail of blood and chaos through various iconic areas of SF (the Japanese Tea Garden was a huge highlight), and her plight against the highly addictive Goblin Fruit plaguing the changeling community of Fog City is a storyline I hope we'll delve further into in future books, but the mortal realm isn't the problem of late, it's the allergic-to-change regency of the faerie realm that are forcing Toby to squint into the abyss and seriously ponder throwing something shiny down there on the off chance the fae will follow and leave her the fuck alone for the rest of her life.


"I never do anything heroic or stupid unless I'm under someone else's control." I said. "I'd be a lot happier if everyone would just leave me alone to eat pizza and watch television, but you people seem to constantly need saving, so here I am."


It's a valid rumination, what with the metric ton of fuckery they heap atop her with every story; you can't exactly blame the woman for being tired of their bullshit. Especially after being confined within the walls of Arden Windermere, Queen of the Kingdom of the Mists' knowe to take part in a conclave concerning Elf-Shot and watching as various high ranking members of the monarchy are picked off by an invisible assassin who's damn hard to... foil ⬅ you'll have to read it to understand that terrible, but apt, pun.
Toby's well within her rights, probably a few hundred miles past them, to be thoroughly pissed the hell off.
And it's so much fun to watch.
If you're into darkly humoured, sarcastic heroines who also happen to be super magnets for chaos, then Toby is the changeling for you. She's crass, she's exhausted, she's a walking advertisement for "do as I say, not as I do, unless you like multiple stab wounds", and she'll have you pledging your allegiance to her within pages, as long as you don't hide the coffee - you wanna live, right?
She's in such fine form in this chapter of her story, which I can only describe as Clue but with magic, and truly, that's a fairy trap if ever I saw one. At least for me. I always assumed if a gateway to Faerie appeared, I'd be the first one through with zero hesitation, but if Toby was on the other side beckoning me to watch her solve murder puzzles in close quarters with creatures who hate her hybrid guts? Zero hesitation would turn negative hesitation with absolutely no chill; I'd be through that fairy ring before she'd even crooked a finger.
How could I possibly resist watching her put the fae-ocracy in their place? How could I miss out on finally seeing Arden play her role as queen, or Quentin interact with his parents and the court simultaneously? In what universe would I say no to snatched, precious moments between Toby and Tybalt, especially with politics attempting to drive a wedge between them, and what that means for them in the future? What power in the universe could prevent me from bearing witness to whatever cool as shit but bat-crap crazy acts of the occult the Luidaeg will snap her teeth into existence this time around?
There is no power because this series is my whole heart and my entire home, and I can't believe I almost kept going with a book that was causing me physical pain in lieu of plucking Toby and her rabble from my shelves and cannonballing straight back into their nonsense.
Who knew fae politics could be this healing and fun?
Even if my heart did try its very best to make a new home in the region of my throat for the last twenty percent of the book - thanks for that, Seanan, I didn't need blood pumping in my chest or anything. Who needs a normal sinus rhythm when you've got new but very old fae magic flummoxing the entire cast, prejudices and bigotry aplenty, favourite characters being taken down left right and centre, and Toby plummeting herself - on purpose - from very great heights?
I mean, honestly, functional heartbeats? Those are for suckers, give me literary arrhythmia all day, every day if Toby's at the helm.
Post an image from the last movie you watched. | IMDB v2.3

Just one thing, however, one tiny, trivial thing... what in the holy fucking Oberon does this mean, Luidaeg?!


I turned to the sound of the Luidaeg's voice. "Yes?"
"You could have died. You know that, don't you? You're not invincible. Hard to kill, yes, but unbreakable? No." She looked at me gravely. "You need to be more careful."
"All I did was go to my room to change my clothes." I protested. "I shouldn't have needed to be careful."
"Yet here you are, doused in blood again, with the memory of my fingers pressed into your lung," she said, and shook her head. "You have to take care of yourself. Replacing you would take a long time, and frankly, I don't want to go to the trouble."
I frowned. "Replacing me? For what?"
"I don't want to talk about it..."


WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!
Im So Stressed GIFs - Find & Share on GIPHY

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Molly Burgess' heavenly bodies:

I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls!
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls!
I felt her presence, by its spell of might,
Stoop o’er me from above;
The calm, majestic presence of the Night,
As of the one I love.


- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Hymn to the Night


There's so many things I wish I was good at, but creating insects out of scraps of material is currently top of my list.
I'm deeply afraid of the ocean but I'm desperate for the Angler Fish moth.
Desperate.
a fish with a light on its head is swimming in the water

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Zelda lo-fi for the sensorily overloaded:
r/tearsofthekingdom - Link and Zelda [art by oshinomiya]
(Art by oshinoyima)

I've been using lo-fi to calm my brain down for a few years now.
And before you ask, yes, I've tried all the coloured noises (white, brown, pink, green) and no, they don't work on me, unless "working" means feeling like someone's slowly, yet somehow frenetically, rubbing their sandpapery fingers over every square inch of my brain?
Not good, not soothing, I'd rather listen to Baby Shark on repeat until the end of time.
But lo-fi? Works a bloody treat to stop the walls-caving-in-actual-physical-pain-might-defenestrate-myself-out-a-window-to-escape feeling that sensory overload causes me.
And my latest lo-fi love is Zelda-themed.
After watching my sister play Breath of Wild, and nearly falling asleep a few dozen times - because when you're not being attacked by Bokoblins, it's an intensely chill game and the music is ambient as fuck - I thought it was about time to introduced Hyrule-themed music into my life.
I'm not going to be humble about my decision making here, because it was fucking inspired, and I highly recommend you get in on the action if you're a sensitive piece of goblin trash like myself.

Push start button, here:


A special mention for Blue Turtle, who isn't Zelda specific but the vibes match all too well. Plus, they make all their own animations for the videos and, crudely, I respect the shit out of that:


And in a completely different but equally soothing direction, I've lately been gorging myself on Ophelia Wilde's classical compilations as auditory reading companions:

When one is afflicted with the inability to read whilst brain-itchy background noise is occurring, one must seek out pre-made playlists to cancel out the clamouring chaos because one is a lazy son of a bitch who can't be bothered to do it oneself.

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Susie Esse's ND brain thoughts:

I think the next time someone asks me what it's like having a neurodivergent brain, I'm going to direct them to Susie Esse's Insta because THIS. THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE.
My brain's not that cute, though, it's more like Krang from TMNT:
a cartoon drawing of a pink monster with teeth and a purple background

Evil motherfuc...

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The "force myself to watch movies" regime continues:
The Last Voyage of the Demeter

We're not going to talk about this because, honestly... woof.
Instead, I'm going to direct you to this entirely accurate and surprisingly/delightfully in depth article by Tyler Dean, which not only omits but makes note of the omission of Leslie Nielsen's iconic performance as the plasma-thirsty Count:

Tell me Dracula: Dead and Loving It doesn't slap.
I dare you.
#Gif from DIABLITO 666

Note to self: find where you put the dvd, you packrat twat. This demands a rewatch.


Wicked Little Letters

Of course this is brilliant, because of course it is.
Ollie Collie and Jessie Buckley going head to head whilst swearing their heads off in beautifully creative ways with Anjana Vasan on their trail is never not going to be brilliant.

But my favourite part is that this happened.
Probably not in the same sardonically funny way the movie tells it, but it was still a thing that happened, a ridiculous thing born from misogyny, abuse, and a desperate need to be something more, no matter the consequences.
And I think there's something really fucking charming about that.
Edith Swann, serving c*nt for the ages.
image


Renfield

...
I didn't hate it?
It's a lot like if What We Do in the Shadows and Dracula: Dead and Loving It tried to make an action movie bat bab and fumbled it a bit because, y'know, anaemia...
But the gore was good, many a head was popped, and no drop of blood was spared.
It's not every movie you see a guy get his arms chopped off with a serving tray by a babygirl simp.
https://www.tumblr.com/classichorrorblog/765530751290818560/renfield-2023

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Grew a surprise Peperomia friend:

No notes, she's just so darn cute.
This may contain: a drawing of an ice cream cone with two eyes and one nose sticking out from it


Ps. She's even bigger now.

Plant people, send help, do I depart her to a new home, or just... see what happens? Get a bigger pot?
I'm just the human raincloud, I know not what to do!

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Rewatching:
Friends

This was a months long endeavour my sister and I (+ rest of family interludes) went on, and it's one I'm really glad I was a part of because a) I haven't watched it in years, b) it's still awesome and my love for it hasn't waned, c) its blindingly un-PCness doesn't invoke rage blackouts anymore, and d) I can with renewed confidence proclaim that Ross Eustace (!) "red flag" Geller remains the most toxic male character in all of tv history.
And that's beating out Dawson "I licked it therefore it's mine" Leery.
Ted "broodmare" Mosby.
Jordan "I'm illiterate therefore I can be a toxic asshole" Catalano.
And Dean "cheater cheater tradwife seeker" Forester.
I hate all four of these fictional men with the passion of a thousand pissed off honey badgers, and yet none of them are as astoundingly, unforgivably awful as Ross Gellar.
I'd kick this man into the sun and shed not a single feminist tear.
Justice for Rachel Green, she should've used that son of a bitch as a runway as she took flight for Paris to buy all the shoes.
a woman throws a ball in front of a picture frame on a wall


Dickinson

The last time I tried to rewatch this, I got through an episode and had to leave immediately.
So, this was an exercise in proving one of my all-time faves hadn't turned sour and I could happily devour once again.
...
The results?
Still sour but in all the right ways.

I can take the show as a whole, now, after being pretty devastated over its cancellation only three seasons in, but after many rewatches and a few years of distance, I can see it ended up being kind of perfect.
Anachronistic, caustic and chaotically funny, queer af, with insanely on point needle drops and kinetic explorations of Emily Dickinson's strange and emotional poetry, with stellar acting performances all round.
Dickinson is one of these irreverent shows that manages to tear you to pieces and make you laugh all at once, and I love it very, very dearly.
And as someone who's not a huge fan of dissecting poetry but instead purely feeling my way through it, this show acted as a guide without forcing any particular foregone emotion to Dickinson's words.
Which is all I could ever want, really.

I'm not immune entirely to dissection, however, not when it's as sympathetically written as Giles Watson's take on the venerable E.D:

Full analysis, here.


Heartstopper

I needed this.
I needed the adorable boys and their band of adorable munchkins because the webcomic is currently doing its level best to kill me at a soul-based level and it's not fucking okay!
I just needed to see them safe and happy and cute as all hell so my serotonin levels could return to their doped up factory settings.
It was goddamn necessary.

And it would've worked out fine if I hadn't looked up when season four was going to hit, only to discover IT'S NOT EVEN BEEN GREENLIT YET.
SCRATCH THAT, WE'RE GETTING A MOVIE!

...
I don't know how to feel.
On the one hand, at least we're getting an ending.
On the other, we so deserved a whole season to finish the Paris Squad's story off, and generally because Heartstopper is a beam of sunshine in an extremely anxious climate and I, for one, feel better mentally with every second I spend watching it.
#heartstopper from . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

But this is Netflix, who historically cancel beloved shows after three seasons in spite of ratings or the amount of love the fans - the people who fund things - scream at them. It's their way, so I should really be immune to it at this point, or at the very least prepared, but this one stings horribly.
Like a stranger dragging a nettle leaf down your arm for no apparent reason and then trying to make amends by patting you on the head with a vinegary tissue.
Doesn't quite hit the spot, does it?
But we'll see, and hope, and not freak out over how they'll fit the end of the webcomic, plus the novella into a, hopefully, two hour movie.
...
Oh god.
#heartstopper from heartstoppercentral

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April Aubades:

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Watching My Mother by Jessica Abughattas

This flattened me.
That last line?
a woman wearing a black hat and a white shirt says ooh that hurt

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Seanan McGuire's, Dreams and Slumbers:

"Do we have a deal, Queen Windermere in the Mists?" [the Luidaeg] asked.
"We do."


You've got to admire Seanan McGuire's commitment to using her short stories to trick her Toby readership into thinking they're about to gain more insight into a side character, when really she's leaving a trail of incrementally revealing and incredibly moreish Luidaeg-flavoured breadcrumbs of the narrative variety for us to hoover down like the secret-hungry goblins she knows us to be.
And this crumb was bloody delicious.
I don't know what the Luidaeg is up to, I never know what the Luidaeg is up to, but that's two bargains she's made so far with key players in the series, two indeterminate favours she's now owed, and I can't help but feel like my darling Lu, my spiky little sea dollar, is up to something.
Something life altering.
The question remains, however: is it for the good? Or for the very, very, tear the fabric of Faerie to the ground, bad?
When it comes to the Sea Witch, it could very well be both.
...
I Cant Wait To See How This Turns Out Drag Race GIF by RuPaul's Drag Race - Find & Share on GIPHY

Sidenote: Walther and Cassandra (nice Seer namedrop, Seanan)? I so ship it.

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All the Reactor articles I read this month and think you should, too:
But Do They F*** the Dragon? An Oral History of Dragon Romance by Bree Bridges


Pace Yourself by Molly Templeton


The '90s Gothic Film Revival: Bram Stoker's Dracula, The Craft, and Everything in Between by Emma Cole

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Thomas Jackson's fibrous wraiths:

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductule anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.


- Walt Whitman


Do I run to poetry when I can't think of anything to say?
Maybe...
But come on, anything I say in comparison will sound like a pretentious toddler paddling in the thesaurus pool.
And I'm not sure anybody wants that!
So, take it away, Walt, do what this verbally inept goblin cannot.
a woman says it 's okay , mouth words are hard sometimes

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When the brain is pudding, endorphin movie re-watching is the only way (bonus: with thoughts I had whilst watching them):
The Talented Mr. Ripley

Is it just me, or did everyone deserve to die in this movie except [spoiler]Jack Davenport[spoiler]?
Matt Damon Tom Ripley

Note to self: watch the show, dummy.


Dogma

"Kill it! Kill it!"

So that's why I say it like that...
two men are standing next to each other on a highway with the words `` kill it '' written on the bottom .


Lars and the Real Girl

Crying over a ND introvert and his sex doll, once again. Okay, Baby Goose, okay.


Steel Magnolias

"Drink your juice, Shelby."

Why do I keep doing this to myself?! 😭


The Craft

She might be as nutty as a Snickers bar, but Nancy Downs is a goth girl icon and I'd totally let her fuck me up.
Sadgirl Sarah can suck it.


Se7en

...
Brad Pitt's really bad in this.
Like a pissy toddler spilling juice from its sippy cup as it twirls in unhinged circles, babbling baby obscenities to unlock the hellgate its clearly trying to open.
How did I not notice that before?
se7en ~mine gif | WiffleGif

Ps. This movie is so Hannibal-coded. I'd bet Bryan Fuller was taking notes.


The History Boys

This is before I hated Corden's guts.
Happier times.
a group of men are sitting in a classroom with the words you rancid little turd



"Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curveball, high fibre, good Scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve, and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days."


Crash Davis, the man you are.
This is what I mean when I tell you Kevin Costner was hot shit in the 80s/90s.
Not The Bodyguard, not Tin Cup, and not Field of Dreams - all of those slap, however.
But this; this is why.


Overboard

Speaking of men of the 80s who I owe much of my taste in fictional men to, Kurt Russell is top of the list.
Sure, he kidnapped, gaslit, Stockholm Syndrome-ed, forced Goldie Hawn to raise his feral children, and ultimately became a very rich man through marriage in the movie, but in what world does that matter when you can jump off a ship in a sparkly dress to proclaim your undying love?
A little toxic behaviour between fictional lovers never hurt anyone, right?
...
*might also be a little bit toxic*
Therapy?
image

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Juan Escudero's, Barcelona:

I spent a term (semester) of art school in the printmaking department, and it was intimidating because I'd never touched an etching needle before, but turned out to be one of my favourite times in a pretty rough uni experience.
But I cannot even imagine the patience and coherence of form it must take for Escudero to produce the seemingly seamless repetition of the waves for this piece.
I think my brain would collapse.
It's like the first time I saw Vija Celmins water pieces (also whilst in art school) and became totally obsessed. ... While simultaneously dying inside because HOW?
HOW does she do this?!
Artists are sorcerers, it's the only explanation.
Michelle Pfeiffer Forever – The Hairpin – Medium

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The Wheel of Time season three:

...
Rosalind Russell – Becoming Mrs. McCully

It's no secret how much I love this show and that I believe its currently one of the only high fantasy series that's giving SFF fans the things they want, but ooft, this was not great.
This is the season before the season, if you know what I mean? It's the narrative builder, the plot placer, the setter upper-er, and it's really, astoundingly boring, which is so often the case with these type of seasons. Seasons I would happily skip to instead muddle my way through a chaotic period of storytelling to keep the quality and pacing where it should be.
Maybe I'm alone in that, I'm sure there are people who really enjoy watching the cogs glacially start to move together, but I'm not that person. I demand stellar storytelling the whole way through with no half-assed recess episodes. I want it all and I want it top quality; nothing else will pass muster.
And The Wheel of Time's junior year out did not pass the test.
image
(Totally in love with this little psycho, though)

It was self-indulgent, narratively scattergun, spent way too much time on characters who don't have the actors to carry their story (Perrin - the Jon Snow of the story, Rand - emote, ffs!, Nynaeve - old' sad eyes is grating as fuck, Egwene - loved her in the second season but meh, over it), and generally felt very lacklustre and cheap.
I'm starting to wonder just how much of Amazon's budget has been eaten away producing Rings of Power, because this season of TWoT looked tacky as hell. From the costume design to Liandrin's godawful wig, the ornately gorgeous show from the first season is long gone and to me, that's devastating.
So much of what makes Fantasy enjoyable is how visual it is, how it takes you completely out of your world and invites you somewhere impossible, somewhere glittering or grimy or alien; it's an escape we mere mortals can't touch and I felt like TWoT had that. You only had to look at Moiraine's Aes Sedai dresses and all the unexpected details, or the digital effects used to animate the One Power and see the love and attention lavished upon this show, but now it looks like the third season of The Witcher (1+2 can stay, but 3 was trash on grimdark acid) and that's fucking criminal.
But the worst offence of all?
My man, my marshmallow with a sword was done so dirty on his airtime this season and I'm not happy about it at all.

Season four, let's do better, yeah?
We don't need another Game of Thrones situation.


Ps. I love Mat, he's kind of my favourite, and the costume design for him in this scene is actually bonkers good, but what hell is going on here? What unholy pact did he just make?

Is this a djinn sitch?
I need answers!
*could easily read the book but isn't going to!*

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Maureen McAfee:

Stop it.

Y'know sometimes you look at something and your brain goes "yeah, I could make that"?
This isn't one of those times, but I want them! And American shipping is too obscene!
Curse my British ass. Curse it!

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