#October book haul

[444-shawty]

I bought 18 books in the month of October!! I need to be stopped! I wasn’t even holding up all of them 😍😭😭😭

[books-in-a-storm]

Book Haul

Lore Olympus Volume Five

[booksandpepper]

📖 Spooktober book haul 📖

October is the best month of the whole year for me. Not only is it our birthday month, but Halloween is something we look forward to every single year. We watch spooky movies and of course our reading for this month is all in theme of spooky season. So here are some creepy/thriller reads that could maybe be on your reading list this month? 🎃

[slaughter-books]

My beautiful October, 2022 book haul! 💙

[pearls-poetry-pretty]

Reading

Preaching

Preparing

Rejuvenation

[lifeofafemalebibliophile]

September-October Book Haul: “Autumn Leaves” Edition

September-October Book Haul: “Autumn Leaves” Edition

[signourneybooks]

Book Haul 75 | BirthYay

Book Haul 75 | BirthYay

I feel like October flew on by and for a variety of reasons I was glad for that too. Some things just aren’t fun at all, even if it is your birthday month. But now it is November and it is time to look back at what kind of books I acquired. Of course I got a nice bunch for my birthday. What else would I ask for? ★ Violet Made of Thorns by Gina Chen★ The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood = READ★…

[bookishlyread]

October Wrap Up:

-Read: 5 books (1st picture)

-Hauled: 12 books (2nd picture)

[stararch4ngelqueen]

TW: Imagine the heart attack Ghost, Price an Konig will have once you introduce them to vapo rub

- -

The change in seasons definitely affected something in everyone. You always made one thing incredibly clear to him;

Season allergies are a bitch.

He had picked up movement from the corner of his eye at one point, unaware you had trodded out of your warm bed when he snuck off to make something hot to combat October’s chill.

By the time he turned around, you tugged off a folded comforter from the couch’s armrest and settled in on the cushions. A makeshift cocoon, a blanket consisting of oversized yarn tied into decorative knots you had bought from an overpriced store, hiding the body of his lovely person underneath.

With such a unique ability to move quietly, you’d make an incredible assassin in his book.

You didn’t respond when he asked if you wanted tea diluted with copious amounts of sweet honey, or cider. You didn’t move when he carried two steaming mugs, settling them down on the coffee table.

“Hun,” He nudged your shoulder. “Open those eyes. C’mon, you’ve got to tell me how awful I made your drink. Can’t start my day without it.”

Nothing. Not a peep.

The couch slouches with his weight as he sits, strong hands maneuvering to settle along your hip.

“Babe.” He gently shakes your arm with more effort, watching those pretty lashes flutter once you decided to open them.

“Hm?” You finally reply, like a little church mouse.

“C’mere.” His hands gently cradle along your thighs, a rumbled grunt emitting from his chest as he hauls you to sit up. Your sniffles become uneven sonnets, your body trembling like a leaf barely clinging to its dead branch on a dying autumn tree.

“Poor little thing,” he hums, a calloused hand cradling your very warm, very flushed cheek. “Why didn’t you stay in bed? Was barely gone five minutes.”

You pitifully shrug, hanging your head like a guilty child. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in both amusement and mock disappointment.

With as little to no effort, he slips an arm under your buckled knees and torso, raising you up from the couch, in your expensive chenille blanket.

“Alright, c’mon. Back to bed. I’ll get ya some more Benadryl to help you sleep.”

Not to knock on wood, but if he gets sick after you, he knows your ciders will be heavenly. Especially with a splash of something strong to clear those airways.

[nataliesfirefly]

chapter 2 - when autumn leaves start to fall

chapter warnings: slight language

wc: 4k

series masterlist

Yet another rainy October evening is upon you as you hurriedly walk to the library, your heavy backpack slung over your shoulder and textbooks clutched in your arms. You forgot your umbrella again. This seems to be a regular occurrence. Though it is only drizzling, so you can manage.

You let out a sigh of relief when you push open one of the double doors, greeted by light, warmth, bookshelves, and tables. You breathe in the familiar, woody scent of old books and their pages.

Not many people are here tonight. In fact, you think it’s just you, besides the librarian, Mrs. Ambrose, at the front desk clacking away on a keyboard. You smile with contentedness, setting down your bag at your usual spot and pulling out your laptop after taking your seat. You yawn and open your biology textbook, before hearing the sound of the door you had just walked through open.

Farleigh. Why is he here, out of all times? He’s such a pest, always around. Everywhere you look, there he is, walking around like he has just graced the student population with his presence.

He stops to chat with Mrs. Ambrose, smiling and chuckling all charmingly. You roll your eyes and try to focus on your biology homework, but suddenly cell division seems a whole lot less interesting.

You glance back up to see him walking over to a table, looking down at his phone the whole way. He eventually sits down and gets his things organized, sighs, and then looks up. His gaze locks onto yours. You hold the eye contact, never one to give up on a challenge, before he glances away and back to his work.

You take it as a sign to get back to your own work. You fish out your notebook from your backpack to write down some extra notes from the textbook. Your biology teacher is sometimes lacking in providing all the right information. You chew on your pen as your eyes scan over the words, your brows knitting together in concentration, But for some reason, you can’t help but feel someone’s gaze upon you.

Interestingly enough, when you look back up from the book, Farleigh is observing you from afar. He quickly looks away once he’s been caught, pretending to stretch, leaning back in his chair and yawning. You go back to your notes.

Wait, you thought that he said he ‘never studies.’ Is this considered studying, or is he just catching up on work? You glance back over to him to possibly find out. You can’t see from this far away though, obviously, so now it just looks like you’re staring at him. His head raises once again and he quirks an eyebrow when he meets your gaze. Something glints in his dark eyes and a smirk plays on his lips. You shake your head to clear your thoughts and glance back down to your textbook.

Eventually, you finish the work you needed to get done, along with the chapter of Wuthering Heights you were assigned to read today. You haul your heavy backpack onto your shoulders, scooping up your books and walking towards the door.

You walk past Farleigh, not daring to look at him as you pass by. Mrs. Ambrose dips her head to you on your way out and you offer a smile. The rain has stopped, thankfully, so you can safely make your way back to your dorm without getting pelted.

The next evening you return to the library around the same time. There’s a few more people here this time, but no one sitting in your usual place. You shuffle over and set your things down before looking around, surveying the large room. You don’t know what or who you’re looking for, but then–

Farleigh. Why is he here again?! Yes, it’s a student library, for anyone who wants to come and enjoy some peace and quiet while studying or doing homework, but he is normally never here. And you would know, because you seem to spend most of your afternoons and evenings here, because if you try to work in your dorm you’ll end up falling asleep.

And tonight, he’s sitting a few tables closer to you than last night. Surely it’s not on purpose. Maybe he doesn’t have a usual spot like you do.

You narrow your eyes and watch him. You’re just observing. Like two competitors in some sport would, analyzing and watching closely for weaknesses or habits. You study his polished and put-together appearance.

Farleigh is not bad looking, you realize. Far from it. Maybe if his personality wasn’t so… well, then maybe he would be attractive. Not to you, though. To someone else. Right?

Your eyes trace the shape of his face, his straight nose, his thick, curly hair that reminds you of a lion’s mane with coiled locks of dark brown and caramel. You watch the dangling pendants on his two stacked necklaces as he leans down over his work, fully concentrated.

The realization that you’ve been looking at him for too long finally catches up with you. You glance away, stealing a quick look from your peripheral to make sure no one saw you doing that.

Someone sits down next to you. “Hey,” A soft voice says your name. You turn to see your friend, Clara. You met her last year in your chemistry class. “Hi, Clara,” You reply with a smile, your voice lowered to match the volume of the quiet chatting around you.

“How are you doing? We haven’t spoken since last year,” She grins, her bright blue eyes sparkling. “I’m doing well. How about yourself?” You respond. “Alright, you know. Just… stressed. I’m trying to pick which uni’s I want to apply to.” She sighs.

“My parents want me to apply to Cambridge, but I know I’m not smart enough to get in. There’s no point. And, well– I really want to study abroad in America,” She explains, her smile broadening at the mention of her desires. You remember a few things about Clara, and one of them is that she really likes to talk. She will overshare any details about her life to anyone who’s willing to listen. You already know you won’t be getting anything else done tonight as long as she’s here.

“You are smart, Clara. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” You pat her shoulder. You aren’t exactly sure that she is smart enough to get into Cambridge, but you offer the reassurance anyway like a good friend should. She shakes her head. “Last year I nearly failed my exams. Oh, I have an idea!” Her voice gets a bit louder due to her excitement, and a few people turn to look at the two of you.

“Sorry.” She clears her throat. “You should help me. You know, to study, get better scores… And I won’t copy off of you like I did last year. I promise.” She whispers. “Even if I want to go to school in the states, I need better marks. Besides, you’re the smartest person here. It would be such a helpful favor,” She bats her eyelashes and looks at you hopefully.

“Oh. Thanks.” Before registering anything else she just said, all you seem to have retained were the words ‘You’re the smartest person here.’ In your mind right now, you’re giggling and squealing. Maybe Clara is just saying that because she’s trying to convince you to become her tutor, but regardless, it makes you feel important. Take that, Farleigh.

You regain your composure. “I would love to help you, Clara. Just give me a call whenever you would like to study.” She nods eagerly.

“This will be so very helpful for midterms!” She claps her hands together softly. “Thank you so much!” She abruptly stands up and grabs her bag. “You can stay if you like–” You begin.

“I didn’t actually come here to work. I just like the… atmosphere.” She gestures to the room. You nod. “Ah.” She’s going to be an interesting person to teach.

“Well, have a good night!” She spins on her heel and skips toward the front, earning a few judgmental glances from the other students. You sit there and ponder whether you should have committed to helping her. It’s just another thing to add to your plate. When you look around for Farleigh, you realize he’s already gone. You let out a long sigh.

One Sunday afternoon, you are taking a walk outside around the campus, breathing in the crisp autumn air and listening to the warm-colored leaves crunching under your feet. You enjoy walks, they take your mind off of things, like the work you need to do, or how you need to call your mom, or that you not only have a calculus test tomorrow, but a biology test too.

You find yourself walking up the stairs to one of the lesser known corridors, in one of the older parts of the school. It’s slightly dim and a little bit creepy, with dust particles dancing around in the small amount of natural light.

And then, you hear a melody floating down the hallway. You raise an eyebrow and peer down the hall. It sounds like a piano.

You start to wonder if you’re in a horror movie or if you’re just imagining things. Usually, this is your secret spot for when you want to be alone because no one really goes there. Except today, the one time when you really need to be alone.

Nevertheless, you’re curious about the source of the sound. It’s a beautiful song, and it sounds familiar. You slowly walk, stopping at the end of the hall when you see a doorway. You look into the room. It’s a strange, small room with a high ceiling and walls of old stone, painted by the sunshine shining through the colorful stained glass. And in the middle of the room, an elegant and timeless grand piano and… Farleigh?

He continues playing, lost in a trance, his fingers gracefully moving over the keys and producing beautiful chords. There is also no sheet music in front of him. He’s playing all this from memory? How is he so good at everything? You wouldn’t have expected him to be a pianist, though. He’s too… loud and annoying. But right now, he’s almost a completely different person. Calm, serene, focused.

Suddenly he stops playing. “I can see you,” He says. You curse under your breath. “Um. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—“ You stutter, not knowing why you’re nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, you did,” Farleigh responds sarcastically. He sighs and stares down at the black and white keys. You awkwardly walk over, your shoes scuffing against the stone floor.

“I didn’t know you played piano,” You stand beside the piano, your hand resting atop the smooth black surface. “Not many people do.” He says, playing some random chords absentmindedly.

“So.. it’s just a hobby of yours?” You ask. He looks up at you, surprised that you’re interested. “Pretty much. I don’t play often, it’s just something I do when I’m bored.” He says casually, like being this talented is a regular occurrence. He scoots over slightly on the bench and you step forward tentatively, trying to decipher whether he wants you to sit down next to him or not. There’s no change in his expression, so you take it as a sign to sit down.

It’s like there’s some truce between the two of you when you’re not in a classroom or the library. Like right now, the competition seems to leave and there’s only a peaceful kind of atmosphere left in its wake.

“Did you have a piano? Back home, I mean?” You ask with a soft smile, tilting your head. Farleigh shakes his head. “No. Well, yes. I would go over to my neighbors’ house and use their piano.” He explains, his voice gentle compared to his usual stark tone.

“So you were self taught?” You question, genuinely curious. “Yeah. Unless you count a bunch of music books as a teacher,” He jokes. You laugh quietly.

“My neighbors, back in the states… they were the family I never had. My dad left, and my mom– well, she was out of it. Half of the time I never knew where she was. She was either out drinking or doing drugs.” He explains, still gazing down at the piano keys. “They ended up taking care of me most of the time. And whenever I needed a break from the chaos, I just went over there and played piano until I couldn’t think about my problems anymore.”

There’s a moment of silence as you feel sorrow for him wash over you. You never knew he had such a rough past. You turn to him.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m awful at piano.” You chuckle at your own words and Farleigh turns to look at you. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips, just barely visible. “Thanks. It does.” He nods and gives in to the smile. The quietness lingers and you just look at each other for a moment, observing and analyzing one another. That is, until your leg brushes against his and you inhale sharply as you’re quickly taken out of the moment. “Sorry.” You chuckle quietly and stand up, stepping away from the bench. He raises his eyebrows at you as you scuttle towards the doorway.

“Um. See you… soon.” You awkwardly wave before walking speedily down the hallway and towards the stairs that you had originally gone up a few minutes ago. What was that? You’ve never been that friendly with Farleigh before. He’s never been that talkative around you. Except for when it came to insults, of course.

You walk back to your dorm, hoping that whatever that was, he would never bring it up in conversation. You won’t mention it either.

A few days later, you are going to the library again. After making a 95 on your last calculus assessment, you’ve decided it’s time to take your studying up a notch. Clearly you’re not doing enough right now.

You walk in. Thursday evenings at the library are typically pretty busy, but tonight there’s only a few other students here. You head towards your usual spot after giving Mrs. Ambrose a quick nod and a smile.

It’s almost as if you have a sixth sense for when Farleigh is around. Sure enough, he’s here, in the library, sitting in your spot. Everyone knows it’s your seat. No one ever sits there because you’ve basically claimed it. Unless he’s an idiot, he’s definitely doing this on purpose.

“You’re in my spot.” You stand next to the table and scowl down at him. It takes him a moment to finish what he’s writing down before he glances up at you, as if you’re unimportant.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know we had assigned seats in this library.” He says with a harsh glare and a sharp tone. “Oh, okay,” You give him your best fake smile, saccharine and disingenuous. “Now get out of my chair.” You hiss, dropping your grin.

“There’s so many other places to sit, why should I have to move?” He leans back and crosses his arms sassily. “Because.” You state simply. “What a persuading reason.” He replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “How about you shut your mouth, gather your things, and move to another table?” You suggest, leaning forward and placing both hands on the table to hopefully intimidate him.

“Sorry. You’ll just have to sit somewhere else tonight,” He smiles and tilts his head, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. You groan. Suddenly, you get a brilliant idea as you glance around.

“Oh my God, Farleigh, you seriously failed your biology test?” You say, your voice raised so everyone in the library can hear. Several heads turn and quieted gasps and giggles can be heard. Farleigh stands up immediately and grabs your arm, pulling you close to him, only separated by the table, which is now pressing against you painfully.

“Fuck off and go find someone else to bother.” He mutters, his face very close to yours, your noses almost touching. You stare into his eyes, which are dark and full of anger. Your plan succeeded. You got a rise out of him, as you had hoped.

He shoves you away, releasing your arm from his tight grasp and sitting back down, letting out a sharp sigh. You turn away so he doesn’t see the grin on your face as you walk off to another table nearby, only accepting your defeat because you got him so riled up.

It’s laughable how easily you can both switch from being friendly to hating each other’s guts. It’s as if the moment in the piano room the other day never even happened. Farleigh clearly seems to have wiped it from his memory, based on how he just responded to you.

You fish your copy of Wuthering Heights out of your bag and pick up where you left off. You’re surprised that you’ve actually somewhat enjoyed this book. You’re excited for the final project and what your essay prompt is going to be.

Your phone buzzes with a text message, so you pull it out of your pocket and set your book down to check who it is. It’s Clara. The text reads:

Hey queen! I’ve got a really important history test tomorrow so I was wondering if you could help me study tonight? Lmk! xx

You sigh and realize you must follow through with your plans. You said you would help her, so now you need to. You text back.

Ofc Clara, no problem xx Come to the library I’m there right now.

You send the text and set your phone down, leaning back in your chair and yawning. Now you wait for Clara to show up.

You steal a glance at Farleigh, who’s writing away in his notebook. Must be for the lab report in biology. You already got that done yesterday. You’re one step ahead of him, like usual.

Clara enters the library, her skirt rolled up to be as short as possible and her black socks pulled high up to her knees. She’s always been one to show off her appearance, like her long legs or her voluminous blonde hair, although she typically ended up getting dresscoded by her teachers.

She spots you and grins, waving excitedly as she prances over to your table. “Hey love! Thanks so much for the help on such short notice. I only remembered the test, like, twenty minutes ago. I was like, oh God. I’m done for if I don’t study.” She rambles after she sits down, running a hand through her hair. You nod, trying to be an active listener but you’d rather be jumping out the window right now.

“And then I remembered, I don’t really know how to study. But now I have you!” Clara leans forward suddenly and throws her arms around you. You grimace as you’re forced into the embrace, trying to fake a smile as you breathe in her signature scent, marshmallows and vanilla.

“Right. Yep, that’s why I’m here… Heh.” You chuckle awkwardly as you pull away from the hug. Clara releases you from her boa constrictor grasp.

“Anyways. Are you going to the Halloween party Saturday night?” She asks, brushing through her hair with her fingers. “I didn’t even know there’s a Halloween party.” You respond, raising an eyebrow. “Of course there is! It’s going to be so much fun. You should come!” She pokes you in the arm playfully.

“I’m not sure… I don’t have a costume or anything–” Clara waves her hand, dismissing your concerns. “Excuses, excuses. You can make a costume out of anything in your closet. Don’t even stress about it, babe.” She pats your shoulder. “I’m here to help.”

“But where is the actual party going to be?” You ask confusedly. “In the student lounge, underneath the dorms, you know?” She explains. You picture the lounge full of students chatting and bustling around. It makes sense, the lounge is basically big enough to be a mini-library, with bookshelves and couches and various spots to sit and hang out with your friends.

You consider the idea. “I guess I could go… Alright. I’ll be there.” Clara gasps at your words. “Yay! Now, let’s think of an outfit for you, yeah?”

It’s safe to say that you and Clara did not get any studying done whatsoever. You tried to bring the topic back to medieval history, but it was no use. Clara chatted endlessly as she usually does, regaling you with riveting tales of her summer. You went home that night and scoured your closet for something that could be considered Halloween-ish. You settled on a tiny black dress and a black cat ear headband that some girl had let you borrow last year for theatre class. You guess you had just forgotten to give it back.

You walk downstairs Saturday evening, already hearing the laughter and ambience of the party. You have to admit you’re a bit anxious. You hardly know anyone at this school, and if you do, they probably dislike you because of your competitive nature.

But it seems cozy and warm, with a few candles and lamps lit, and a fire crackling in the fireplace. You awkwardly stand near the corner of the room, constantly pulling your dress down to make sure you don’t flash everyone here.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up,” You turn to find the source of the voice, although you already know who it is. Farleigh’s tall figure stands in front of you. You try to figure out what he’s dressed as… He’s in all black, with slacks and a button-up long-sleeve shirt.

“Hello.” You answer dryly, narrowing your eyes. “You didn’t really commit to the bit, did you?” You snicker at his lack of a costume. “And you call that a costume?” He gestures to your outfit.

“Well, at least I tried,” You shrug and sigh, looking around. “I don’t even know anyone here.” You admit helplessly, leaning against the wall.

“Aw. Sad.” He chuckles and walks to stand beside you, also leaning back against the wall. “Seems to me like you don’t have any friends, either.” You reply, looking up at him. “Me? I- No, I have friends–” He pauses when he realizes he sounds stupid. “Yeah, I don’t.” He admits.

“Well, at least we have something in common.” You laugh at your embarrassing predicament. “Everyone is just so… Incompetent.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, here he goes.” You mutter under your breath. “What?” Farleigh asks, glancing down at you. “I’m Farleigh, and I’m better than everyone else.” You mock his voice, trying to make your own voice deep enough to match his. He rolls his eyes dramatically.

“First of all, that is not how I sound. Second of all, I don’t think that. Well, sometimes I do.” You scoff at his response. “So you are a narcissist?” You reply, looking down and fiddling with one of your rings.

“If you believe everyone is so incompetent, why are you talking to me?” You ask, wondering if you can get a reaction out of him again. He gazes down at you, going silent for a moment, his dark eyes illuminated by the dancing flames of the candlelight. “I don’t think that applies to you,” He says quietly, with some weird tone that you can’t decipher.

“So, you settled for the next best person after yourself?” You question. You both stand there, just observing the party, and eventually he replies. “Yeah, I guess so.” The two of you smile contentedly, and for the first time, you think you might actually enjoy his company.

You spend the rest of the evening chatting with Farleigh, with casual insults slipping into the conversation every now and then, or snarky remarks about classes or upcoming quizzes. Interestingly enough, Clara never stopped by once to greet you or talk with you. But, then again, what did you expect?

Yet somehow, she didn’t really cross your mind tonight. You must have been thinking about other things, or you were too wrapped up in your conversations with Farleigh. But you’ll never admit that.

[bookaddict24-7]

✨✨My October, 2023 Book Haul✨✨

[indigoraysoflight]

Hopes for TBOC’s marketing campaign

Let me start by saying that this is a marketing rant. I’m going to unfold glaring issues I’ve noticed with the marketing strategies being implemented so far. If it’s not your cup of tea, now is the time to scroll past this post. 

If you’re feeling more exhausted than usual in the fandom, you're having to defend Carol/Caryl online a LOT lately, or you’re finding yourself exercising the block/mute button a lot or finding the lack of Carol-focused promo quite disheartening – this may clarify a few things. I’m shedding some light on some marketing nuances that I‘ve noticed over the past few months that are snowballing into the landscape we see today. I'll try and do it in order so you can see the how some of these strategies connect with each other.  

Promotion without both leads

After the initial two weeks of promo during October, we didn't see a ton of Carol-focused promo. If you go back and look at promo content, news, articles, casting calls, teasers, etc., that followed, you’ll notice one person is largely missing from all of them. Melissa McBride’s name or Carol's pictures/ footage aren’t always found in articles/ news related to the show dubbed “The Book of Carol,” which is often just referred to as Daryl Dixon S2.  

Articles often say, "McBride is joining Daryl Dixon S2." Sometimes, she isn't even mentioned, which may not seem really big or just an error, but these little things compound into bigger issues, like fostering disrespect towards the female lead. We all know that it's their show together, so why not call it that? Why not feature her name in every instance? Why not speak about them equally?

94% of consumers are likely to be loyal to a brand that offers complete transparency.¹ Why let speculation and disrespect continue when they can be neutralized by taking a stand?

Toxicity-inducing posts/narratives

What I mentioned above inevitably starts rumours or opens pathways for people to disrespect Carol or, worse, makes fans feel like they need to be “grateful for the crumbs that they’re getting,” which not only lowers expectations but perpetuates this tactic that leans into the bare minimum and festers toxicity.

Most importantly, it encourages narratives and speculation that she's a "small part of Daryl's story" or that she may not be around for the long haul. It opens the forum to speculate about Carol's fate and I don't have to explain why it's frustrating to read narratives like that.

It's especially problematic because the show is supposed to eventually make way for "their story". This makes TBOC's core audience feel like they’re waiting for crumbs or encourages infighting in the fandom. It's causing strain on people's mental health, and so many are hanging on by a thread. This toxicity makes fans feel unsafe and uncomfortable in the space that is supposed to provide a safe haven. A space where they can share their love for their favourite characters/ship and build anticipation for their show. Which brings me to...

Positioning strategy

When TBOC promo strategy commenced, the fandom rejoiced because “to find home is to find each other” was established as the tagline and a positioning strategy which leaned into who Carol and Daryl are to each other. When I say "positioning strategy", I mean leaning into what makes the show unique. Now, sometimes, it can be incorporated more unethically when it pokes holes into the competitor's product/service/show, but In TBOC's case, they leaned into the biggest selling point of their show, which is Daryl and Carol's relationship, aka what Carylers have been asking for since S2 of the flagship show. Carylers are a great core audience to have because engagement online picks up quickly, with or without their help. 

There are two ways of looking at it – the first way is building on the hype until the promo circuit picks up, and the second way is not putting in a lot of effort because the fans are doing a lot of the legwork. Which one do you think is being implemented right now? They built hype for the first two weeks after Carol's cameo, but unfortunately, that wave crashed before they let fans do the amplifying for them. Which brings me to…

Placating instead of amplifying 

Carol’s pictures/ footage so far has been taken on set or promo stills from the flagship show used in tweets by the official accounts. We can all agree that seeing Melissa and Norman on set is lovely. But a lot of Carol solidarity posts drop because of some inflammatory comment/post/article that pissed Carol/Caryl fans off. Take this, for example: 

There are multiple instances of this. Many set pictures/ promo related content drops around the time there is discomfort amongst Caryl/Carol fans. When you're placating fans because they're pissed, you're trying to neutralize a negative feeling, so the anticipation doesn't build as sustainably and leaves people wanting more. Happiness helps people connect and share content quickly. Positive content spreads faster on social media than any other type of content.² Pictures used to placate fans don’t have the same effect if they amplified the hype for the sake of it. When you amplify a character or ship to build on the hype, it capitalizes on people's positive feelings like excitement and happiness and builds anticipation quicker. Like this:

Carol deserves more than being promoted only when the toxicity gets so bad that fans start to take mental health breaks or think of leaving altogether. Now we all know that the promo circuit hasn’t officially kicked off yet, so I am hoping that these things change when it begins. This is what I want to see:

Equal promotion – I’d love to see Daryl and Carol featured equally when they promote the Caryl show. Give us all the posters featuring both of them and map out their journey towards each other in the posters and their promo. Daryl and Carol should be featured on equal ground, with no doubt left about both of them being the leads of their show. 

Or, as my friend @kryptoniancape said in our podcast, “The posters need to be so in your face that you have no choice but to accept it, or you can’t deny it anymore.” Daryl and Carol have waited long enough for their story to continue. They deserve a compelling story, but most importantly, they deserve a robust marketing campaign that creates buzz for that story and respects both leads equally. 

Build hype. Build angst – Build hype for Carol’s return. Build the angst with Daryl’s return. Their ship has a robust fan engagement on socials which is a goldmine for any show. The marketing campaign practically writes itself here. 

The Carol-focused promo hopefully leans into her marketability as a timid housewife and a survivour to one of the most formidable women on the show. Carol travelling across continents against all odds for Daryl is a huge defining trait of her character. Daryl’s character is known for his love and loyalty to Carol and his family. His longing for her and his unwavering need to protect her are defining traits of his character.

S1 established that he wants to go home, but he feels “stuck” (why? I don’t know). The angst needs to be focused on Daryl’s need to get back home to Carol, the kids, and the rest of his family. Trying to lean into Daryl’s “indecisiveness” because of people he’s known for a short period of time, IMHO undermines his character development. Especially because S2 is focusing on Carol’s side of the story. They both need to be on the same page even though they’re far apart. I don’t know how they will achieve that, but I speak for many when I say most Carylers are waiting for the story to just be about them. 

Leaning into ship baiting to manufacture tension is neither cute nor compelling. Quite frankly, I'm tired of it, especially because Carol and Daryl can build tension with a single look. It's not like this show needs more angst (especially, manufactured angst) than it's going to get with these two trying to find each other.

Building Carol’s and Daryl’s authority (individually and together) – This means tweet threads with memorable moments, articles that validate their characters individually and their ship and its potential, video compilations of their moments together, hyping fanart/fan edits that feature Caryl. The whole enchilada. There are creators sharing their work in this space every day. Take your pick and support them.

I think we can all agree that both Carol and Daryl deserve equal promo; their ship deserves validation, and Carol deserves respect. If you don't resonate with what I said here, no hard feelings, I respect your perspective. If you do resonate with what I said here, I hope it helps somehow. Thanks for taking the time to read this. So long story short.

Nobody wants to see toxic shit like this:

We want to see more of this: 

My last wish for you, dear Caryler, is that you find a safe space where you can talk about the things you love. Take mental health breaks if necessary. Remember that any show related content that you see online is placed there strategically (from a marketing perspective) to leverage the audience or boost viewership. If it doesn't make you happy or bring you hope, or feel good for your mental health – refocus your attention to what does make you happy. Starve the content that doesn't deserve your attention, feed the content that brings you joy.

My askbox is open if you need to chat. ❤️

___

Sources:

1. Unethical Marketing Destroys Customer Experience And Brand Reputation, Forbes.com, Accessed 8 March, 2024

2. The Ultimate Guide to Emotional Marketing, Hubspot.com, Accessed 8 March, 2024

[books-in-a-storm]

Book Haul

Archangel’s Resurrection

[themelodyofspring]

Tarot October BPC | Day 29

The Sun - Haul

I always buy the most books in a month in October 🍂

[slaughter-books]

My amazing October, 2023 book haul! ❤️

[briwates]

Zero context WIP game ! Thank you @clawbehavior for the tag, excited to do this because I've got like 10 different wips and kept resisting the temptation to post snippets. These fics don't have definitive titles yet so the ones here are approximative descriptions

1. Ms Ji & the Kangs

“Yohan-ah, I love you, don’t cry” Isaac says, patting his baby brother’s stomach when he fusses. They’re both laying on Isaac’s bed after lunch, a bit drowsy in the early hours of the afternoon. Young-Ok watches the two as she folds laundry.

“Nanny, why does Yohan have no eyebrows ?” Isaac asks curiously.

She chuckles at the question, taking a tiny pair of socks out of the basket and folding them together. “Most babies are born without much hair, he’ll grow them later on.”

2. Conversations

Gaon swipes ‘accept call’ and props his phone against a utensil holder as Elijah’s lovely face comes into view. She has cut her hair into a bob, even bangs forming a curtain on her forehead.

“Gaon, it's an emergency ! You need to come to Geneva and do something !” Elijah’s voice immediately comes through the phone speaker, loud enough to be heard over the sound of meat sizzling on the stove. “Yohan is serious about growing that ugly mustache and the clinic receptionist keep trying to hit on him !”

3. Yohan through Isaac's photography

October 1991, Yohan showing me his teeth 

Gaon chuckles at the photo. It’s blurry like the objective had gone out of focus at the last minute. Yohan is giving the camera a smile and scrunching his nose, eyes closed under his fringe like he’s shielding them from the flash. Some milk teeth are missing from his gums, two permanent ones just peeking above the surface. He must have been no more than six or seven here.  

4. Gaon scrolls online forums

"Judge Oh, I have this file I wanted discuss with you"

Jinjoo comes up behind him to see just as he is about to unlock his computer. What greets Gaon after entering his password is the previous night's research topic brightly displayed on the screen. Shit. Carelessly, he had simply shut the laptop before going to bed, instead of closing the tabs and erasing his search history.

Panic and embarrassment seize Gaon on the spot. He's about two hundred-percent certain that Jinjoo got a glimpse of what was written on the screen. Omegaverse fanfiction of him and their boss. Gaon wants to explode.

"You have…a lot of open tabs, Judge Kim."

5. Another snippet from Conversations

“You have something under your eye”

“Hmm ?” Yohan hums, closing said eye when Gaon’s thumb gently swipes across his skin.

“Eyelash.” Gaon flicks it away “crap I should’ve told you to make a wish”

They’re laying on the couch in a tangle of limbs, Gaon on top of Yohan like a weighted blanket, chest to chest, book long abandoned on the coffee table. Kkomi is on the armrest behind Yohan’s head, sniffing at his hair. Gaon yawns into Yohan’s collar.

“We should go to bed.” Yohan says, voice hoarse.  

6. Sunah lives

It is routine until her ears catch familiar voices, ones she thought she would never hear again, along with the cries of a fussy child.

“Gaon-ah, give her to me”

Sunah turns around to see, to her surprise, peering over the café’s balcony, Kang Yohan, his niece, his former associate, passing over an agitated toddler.

“I told you we should have brought her stroller,” Kim Gaon’s reprimands are a refreshing thing to hear “She gets tired.”

“It would have been inconvenient though, with all the stairs and narrow streets.” Kang Elijah chimes in. She is on crutches now, standing just a few centimeters shy of her uncle’s height.

“That’s fine” Kang Yohan hauls up the little girl against his chest so that her head rests on his shoulder, pats her back. “Appa will be the stroller today."

Tagging @thedeviljudges if you feel like doing it !