It's Thursday, I am tired, let's get some comics-y superhero-y goodness, right here on Dora Reads.
Dora Reads is the book blog of a Bookish Rebel, supporting the Diversity Movement, bringing you Queer views and mental health advocacy, slipping in a lot of non-bookish content, and spreading reading to the goddamn world! :) (All posts may contain Amazon links, which are affiliate, unless marked otherwise. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. USA ONLY - please do not make UK purchases with my links)
'Viktor’s book was informative. But there are still things Five now understands himself not knowing.'
I haven't rec'd a The Umbrella Academy (TUA) fic in a while.
But I've still been reading some, obviously.
So, yeah, this week's offering for your humble perusal (lol) is a TUA fic.
June was too damned hot.
I hate the heat - I'm not built for it.
Ugh. It sucks.
Also, the mountain fires are apparently releasing heavy metals, like lead, from the vegetation, due to Wales' past status as lightly smouldering industrial wasteland.
It's potentially getting into the water supply. Fun times.
...On the plus side, maybe the English won't want our water now. (No, I'm not explaining that one - Google 'Wales water exports,' and once you've done that, Google 'Tryweryn'.)
Warning: this post discusses sensitive topics, including but not limited to - missing people, unexplained death, accidental death and drowning, murder, internet harrassment, mental health problems
Links may also contain distressing content.
Disclaimer time: I am not any sort of scientific, legal, sociological, or psychological expert. I'm a chick with an internet connection.
'The coffee is gone.
"No," Clint whispers, staring at the counter where he left it. "What the... is it... coffee burglar?"'
I would like the record (there's a record, right? Sure, let's say there's a record,) to show that I'm not actually a big fan of time-loop tropes.
...Which you wouldn't think, given how often I rec. them, but there we are!
(All of which is to say that this week's fic is a time-loop fic.)
'“No, I draw other things, too,” Lucius hissed. He snatched the book back from Ed and flipped through the pages before turning it back around. “Here’s you and Captain Stede, see?”
“Ah well, thanks for leaving my clothes on, mate,” Ed said absentmindedly, staring down at the sketch.'
We all know I'm Gay pirate trash, right? OK, glad we could all agree.
So... this is Our Flag Means Death (OFMD) - because I am Gay pirate trash.
And, deep down, aren't we all a little bit Gay pirate trash? 💃😅
(You don't have to answer that - I'm tired and it's hot as hell here, I'm possibly making zero sense, but I will push on regardless! See? Dedication, right there. 😅 I have no idea what I'm saying any more, so this is gonna be fun!)
May was hard. May was very hard.
But that's actually an improvement as far as 2023 goes, for me.
No-one in my life - including both pets and humans - died, nearly died, or had a life-changing diagnosis, so it's all good.
And, unlike last year, I did not catch Covid, so we're calling it a win.
(I need the win, OK? I'm so tired.)
'Ed feels something in his chest, something resembling fondness. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t even know this guy’s name. And yet, Ed had spent the better part of the last few days thinking of the rich man crying in the rage room, making up stories in his head to justify his presence, his anger, his sadness.'
I mean... it was only a matter of time until I rec'd a novel-length Our Flag Means Death (OFMD) fic.
I am trash. We know this, and we love it (...hopefully.) 😅😈😎
If you haven't watched OFMD yet... Gay pirates and Taika Waititi as Blackbeard. #JustSaying.
'green and gold: in my defense, stark, i actually didn’t mean to
green and gold: there was no malicious intent in this'
I love this fic, it's so random.
It's written entirely in chat/text messages, and I literally laughed more than once.
I mean, Iron-dad and Spider-kid with some fluffy FrostIron tossed in for the hell of it?
Hell yes!
...aka she's back on that existential crisis train again.
Is Dora Reads a book blog?
I mean, yes. But...
Is it, though?
Certainly, I've been calling it a book blog for the past 8+ years, but that doesn't automatically make it one, does it?
I write very few posts which actually, actively, talk about books.
My last review was some time last year, (a mini-review of Klara and the Sun, which you can see here, if you're interested - gotta get that self-promo in!) and I rarely write book lists or discussions.
(For the record, I always intend to write more reviews, and even more lists and discussions, but life has this knack of getting in the way... 😅)
Warning: this post may have a negative affect on people who experience Climate Anxiety
As part of the 2015 Paris Climate Agreement, the world made a commitment to stopping the rate at which the world was warming at 1.5C by the end of the Century.
...Which was always going to be a big ask, because, sadly: people.
People and capitalism and governments and big oil and all of that.
This story was originally published in the Promptly Written publication on Medium by yours truly, in response to the prompt 'Either dream or reality' from editor Ravyne Hawke.
Crystal Clarity
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Image by meineresterampe from Pixabay |
Have I mentioned that 2023 hates me?
Because 2023 hates me.
I'm having the worst year. And that's saying something.
(Warning: this blogpost discusses low self-worth and mental health problems. It also briefly discusses toxic/abusive friendships.)
"Oh My God! You remembered!"
She's holding the chocolate orange, still partly covered by reindeer wrapping paper, like it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.
"Yeah?" - of course I did, she and our friend spent a good half an hour a month or so back discussing how sad it was that no-one ever gets them chocolate oranges, how much they love chocolate oranges, and that they hadn't had chocolate oranges in forever.
So, when I was buying their Christmas presents, I bought a couple of chocolate oranges. No brainer; no biggy.
"You're so sweet!"
...Am I?
'Bonnet looks at him questioningly. “Concussion?”
“Truth serum.”
"Ah, that'd do it..."'
Somehow this month I've ended up rec'ing only The Umbrella Academy (TUA) and Our Flag Means Death (OFMD) fics.
I did have a blogging-related existential crisis when I realised that I was gonna end up rec'ing an OFMD fic again (only the cool people have sub-labels of existential crises, OK?) - but then I decided I didn't care.
In the spirit of friendship with our English neighbours, before we start I would like to wish you all a Happy St. George's Day! (Which is today - 23rd April)
You wouldn't think that a Welsh location having a Welsh place name would be controversial, but here we are...
Wales is full of mountains.
Like, there's so many mountains that most of the time we don't even notice they're mountains, let alone know what they're called. Most of them contain the scars of human industry and/or habitation.
But there are a few mountain ranges - a few national parks, in fact - that aren't untouched by humans, or even untouched by industry, but have kept enough of their own character, and enough tether to the natural world, to be classified as 'wild.'
Like Y Bannau Brycheiniog.
'...Lucius shrugs. “Yeah, well, you weren’t ever unclear on that being a likely scenario. Also, like, we’re pirates?”
Izzy opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. The logic, simple as it is, is flawless.'
This is an Our Flag Means Death (OFMD) crack fic -
- in so much as you can get a crack fic for this show, given that if the actual canon were written by a fan creator, it would most definitely be classed as a crack fic.
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, OFMD is also known as The Gay Pirate Show - because it has gay pirates.
...And Taika Waititi, y'know, in case you needed more incentive. 😅😉
I have a bunch of stories from Medium that I was thinking about posting here once a month-ish, because why not? (Possibly gonna regret asking that! 😅)
This story was originally published by yours truly in the Promptly Written publication on Medium, for the following prompt, set by Ravyne Hawke:
'So, for twelve years, all Klaus and Ben had was each other.'
I don't know what it is about this fic...
I can think of dozens of fics just like it, and yet... it stands out.
Sometimes things just happen that way, I guess.
March 2023 was like the rest of 2023 so far - it effing sucked.
This year is really going down as one of my least favourites atm, and I've got some bad years on record, y'know? *sighs*
Anyhow, a good neighbour - a neighbour who'd been my neighbour since I was a toddler - passed away suddenly.
They were always there, y'know? They came to my brother's wedding and everything.
So that, on top of everything else I've been dealing with this year, was pretty damned horrible.
You know when you're trying to write something specific, but things just won't quite click?
Like, the thing you're trying to say refuses to come together - you might get close, but you won't get there. You can't quite manage to get the concept across, to communicate what it is you're trying to communicate.
Like... you can feel the thing, lurking in a corner of your brain, trying to free itself. But it just can't quite make that leap.
...That's one of the most irritating feelings you can have when writing.
Or at least, that's what it feels like to me.
There's a special kind of frustration - as a writer - when the words WON'T GO WHERE THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO!
'“We need to go to the park. There’s a wizard there: it’s his fault.” It is hard to know if Ben intends this to be helpful.'
I'm pretty sure there's time loop fanfiction for every fandom.
And ironically, despite being not that into time loops (aside from Happy Death Day, of course,) I keep reading time loop fics (over and over and... 😅)
(If you want to check out some SamBucky in a time loop, check this post out here. You're welcome.)
The Black Phone is one of my favourite short stories of all time, from one of my favourite authors of all time, Joe Hill.
I've read the collection 20th Century Ghosts (where The Black Phone appears,) more times than it's truly a good thing to admit to - it's my comfort reading, don't judge me.
So I love this story. It's a masterpiece.
Not perfect, no - it mentions how fat the villain is at least six times too many, for a start - but a masterpiece, all the same.
And I'm fully prepared to admit that I'm entirely biased when it comes to this story. So be aware of that. 😅
'Edward froze, glancing to the corner Stede had gestured to and seeing nothing there. Stede clearly saw something though, because he kept glancing over there...'
I finally got around to watching Our Flag Means Death (OFMD) - it will come as zero surprise to most people that I utterly freaking ADORE it!
And what I do with things I adore, once I run out of canon material, is read fanfiction - let's be honest, I am nothing if not predictable. 😅
(Fandom notes:
Canon is the 'official' stuff in the book/film/TV series/whatever.)
This poem was originally published by me in the Medium publication The Brain Is A Noodle, for the writing prompt 'writing as a breathing organism'
Created
‘There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.’ — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
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Image by Ruth Archer from Pixabay |
'Sam is pretty sure he won’t be getting up again.
“It’s not that bad,” Bucky says, his lips pressed together.
“Bad enough,” Sam rasps.'
Who wants super-angsty SamBucky?
...well that's what you're getting dammit!
The emo spaghetti goblin brain wants what the emo spaghetti goblin brain wants 😅
(Fandom notes:
SamBucky is a romantic and/or sexual relationship, also known as WinterFalcon, between Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes from the MCU (Marvel movies and TV shows - especially The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (TFATWS))
It's good to remind ourselves - as often as is necessary - that the little things are there to enjoy.
...By 'ourselves' I obviously mean me - we need to remind me. 😅
Warning/Disclaimer Time:
I very briefly discuss mental health problems in this blogpost.
I also give opinions on what can contribute to people's mood, so: I'm not any sort of scientific/medical/psychological professional - I'm a chick with personal experience of mental health issues and an internet connection. OK? OK.
The little things contribute so much to our lives.
Our beautiful, messed-up, everyday lives are made up of the bracelet you wore this morning, what you had for breakfast, whether you tripped over the doorstep on your way out, what song is playing on the radio... etc. etc.
'Klaus applauded. No one joined him. No matter. He beamed brightly.
“So. Who wants to kill me?”
His siblings’ horrified faces peered back at him.'
Warning: this post briefly discusses suicide, in relation to the content of the fanfiction discussed.
I love the way fandom creators use source material.
I love their interpretations of both characters and plot points. I love it when they write novel-length fics, and I love it when those novel-length fics are written well.
It's just... breath-taking, isn't it? How characters and stories have their own lives, away from the source material. How the interaction of fan and material can create something new and special.
What can I say about February?
As February tends to do, because of the length, it kind of zipped past.
It was not as bad as January for yours truly (because that, unfortunately, would take some beating,) but it was still full of more downs than ups, really.
I struggle when the people I love are struggling, dearest nerdlets, I really do.
And I tend to turn those feelings back on myself - like if I was just 'good enough' then things would be better, if I knew what I was doing with my life then things would be better, if I was just fundamentally 'better' then things would be better.
Objectively, I know that is a pile of b*llsh**.
Subjectively, I feel it.
I don't know what I'm writing but I hope it'll turn out OK.
I'm literally just typing things and hoping it turns into a blogpost at this point.
Wish me luck.
Thoughts are hard to form, sometimes.
Let alone trying to write something insightful, pithy, witty, or just plain worth it.
Sometimes I put way too much pressure on myself and on this blog.
Not everything I write has to have some deep meaning behind it.
(I know - you wouldn't think it for by reading some of my posts on such heavy-weight topics as fanfiction and weird superhero videos I found on the Interwebs. 😅 )
'Though he can barely recall most details from his childhood, and his entire 20s are a blur, Klaus’s memories of Vietnam are so vivid that he can still feel Dave’s rough fingertips on his skin when he closes his eyes...'
In my defence -
which is always a great way to start a blogpost
- the level of angst in this fic is such that originally I wasn't going to rec it.
But then the fic that I was going to rec turned out to be unavailable, so I thought 'f**k it, they're getting the angst!'
It's Thursday, I am juggling metaphorical plates (cos I'd drop the real ones,) so let's get some superhero-y comics-y goodness!