#worm as a metaphor for who the fuck knows

[haystackpancake]

Worm: a thing that exists

There's an astronomical aberration, unknowable is its name. So, for Irony's sake, say worm (not snake; we'll keep the imagery lame). This worm has an end, an inside and out, rippley skin and leathery snout. This worm is quite plump, but shrively too— which happens to rhyme with point of view. This worm consumes This worm gestates This worm emmits This worm pulsates

yet

The cruelest lesson we learn from worm comes from question most kind. 'Fyou're something like me ya'ask what she seeks, but wormy, my dear, is blind. x'( This poor omnipotent presence pitifully slithers through dirt— dirt of the mind, of space and of time —unbothered by ideas of worth.

So next time the the sidewalk is dry next time the coiled lay died turn to the worm, his palace of sky and all's left will be all right. alternative title, God is a worman

#worm #worm god #god worm #god is a worman #god save the worms #god made the worms I know they're gonna taste ok #god given worm #poem #short poem #short poetry #my poem #poetic #poetry #funny poems #worm poems #worm poetry #writing about worms #worm as a metaphor for who the fuck knows #the worms are in your walls #your walls are made of worms #*peels off mask to reveal worms* #“It was I worm the entire time!” #original poetry #original poem #original writing #nature poem #its not really about worms i promise #worm speaks #oh worm? #the word worm doesnt look real anymore

[cairavende]

My wonderful girlfriend got me Gideon the Ninth for Christmas and I realized why should I just give Worm recaps? Let's read some Locked Tomb! (We'll see how this format works, maybe I'll adjust it. Specifically might break stuff down into smaller segments instead of full acts, but I didn't think of doing this until after I had read all of act 1.)

Gideon the Ninth Act 1 (chapter 1 through 8) thoughts:

This book is so gay oh my god

Like, it's gay in ways I can't even explain. I love it.

Harrow beats the shit out of Gideon in chapter 2 and I don't know if I've ever seen someone get beat up in a more gay way.

"Oh Griddle! But I don't even remember about you most of the time." ROLL A FUCKING DECEPTION CHECK HARROW! You are saying this standing in the middle of the field you spent all night burying bones in just to foil her escape in the most dramatic way. You can't stop remembering her.

Gideon is the most herbo of herbos. I fucking love her. I love reading her PoV. She just knows punch and stab with sword and if those don't work than she'll just do them harder.

Also Gideon is SO fucking gay. Dear god. Dulcinea faints and Gideon turns off all though. HELP PRETTY GIRL. Nothing else.

Ok I could just make this whole thing "EVERYTHING IS GAY" but there is technically more than that.

I love how weird everything is and how little explanation is given. I don't want pages of exposition, I want to learn the world as it comes at me! This is perfect.

And just the very nature of things that seem weird not being given more than a passing thought in the book is information. Something may seem wild to the reader but it's so normalized to the characters that they wouldn't even think about the idea of it being different.

Lack of explanation also helps really show how much of a meathead Gideon is. Do the readers get to learn details about this thing? Only if it is a weapon, has tits, or Gideon is forced to listen while Harrow explains it. Otherwise no, why the fuck would Gideon spend her precious few brain cells on thinking?

And even if Gideon is forced to listen as Harrow explains it, the readers might not learn much cause Gideon might stop listening. I love her.

Aiglamene is wonderful. Crux is fine but I like her more.

Poor Gideon just wants a big sword that she can swing hard. It's not like she can't use a rapier. But why when she can go big sword?

SO MUCH CATHOLICISM

As someone who once was Catholic and then realized I was actually not a straight man, but instead a lesbian, I am in deep.

And the fucking slang used! Or whatever would be the right term. The shit they say! I love it. Just the weird sci-fi far future space necromancer universe and then suddenly "Are you asking me to . . . throw her a bone?", "Gideon had always known that this would be how she went: gangbanged to death by skeletons.", "Don’t hypothetically shove stuff up my butt again, it never does any good.", "Lo! A destructed ass.", "Well we were developing common sense, she studied the blade.", "Double Bones with Doctor Skelebone."

House of the First appears to be Earth. I kinda assume the House of the Ninth is Pluto, even though things obviously aren't in order given that the Seventh and Sixth are closer to the sun. Of course, I'm kinda expecting this to not technically be this solar system at all.

Undying Emperor, King of Resurrection, I Have Ten-Thousand Titles, Boss First, etc etc hasn't been on "Earth" in over nine thousand years. I wanna know MORE.

And the fucking Ninth House has their own prayer! Everyone else has one that the Ninth didn't know and then the Ninth had one that no one else knows! GIMME MORE!!!!

Also again, so many Catholicism metaphors or comparisons or whatever!

I could go on forever but gonna end this one with OH MY GOD SHE FOUND SUNGLASSES I LOVE HER. Fucking "I came prepared, my sweet." and "But then you couldn't have admired . . . these!" as she whips on the sunglasses. God. I nearly died.

#The Locked Tomb #tlt #Gideon the Ninth #Cairavende reads The Locked Tomb #Gideon Nav #Harrowhark Nonagesimus #Dulcinea Septimus #This might be the most lesbian thing I've ever read and I've read some pretty fucking lesbian things #Dulcinea might be my favorite so far

[that-disabled-princess]

You know what, I'm making The Post.

Disability parallels in Carry On and why they matter

We know Simon's wings and tail are a metaphor for his queerness, but what about the disability parallels? The disability parallels in Simon's wings and tail, in Baz's vampirism, in Simon losing his magic.

Simon's wings and tail make life difficult for him. When he wears clothing at all, he has to either accommodate his wings and tail or deal with crushing them under clothing. Crushing them and that extra pressure can hurt like hell and really distract you, but having to constantly worry about accommodating yourself is also a huge pain. It takes a long time--learning to accommodate yourself and your disabilities in a world that just doesn't want to let you.

I'm pro-Simon keeping his wings and tail for this reason.

Baz's vampirism, while a metaphor for queerness, is also a metaphor for chronic illnesses. I don't have a chronic illness myself, so I can't really speak to this one, but it's still important to talk about the parallel. He has dietary accommodations he needs to survive, and not many people around him willing to accommodate that because of fear and prejudice.

As for Baz's leg... Oh, I'm so sick of the abled healing the disabled narrative. Let Baz be disabled. Let him have a fucked-up leg and use a posh cane. Let Simon and Baz be disabled boyfriends together.

Simon's magic is a whole other can of worms to open, but @messofthejess opened it this morning and I'm crawling through the unpleasant sliminess with them.

Simon losing his magic is an important disability parallel. He's had magic his entire life--had magic as a part of his body his entire life, even if he hated it the whole time--and now that part of himself, of his identity, is gone. Who is he without his magic? Who is he when the world he lives in revolves around and caters to people with magic? Who is he when people won't slow down to match the pace he's going at when he can no longer keep up?

Simon has to learn to live without his magic. Because as @ebbpettier said, tape exists. And sometimes wanting to go back to the way things were means you never move forward or grow. Because things will never go back to the way they were, too much has happened. You can never go back. Sometimes growing means letting go.

There are people who will accommodate Simon. He'll find his people. We all will. It'll be rough, it'll be hard, it'll take literal blood and sweat and an ocean of tears, but he'll get there.

These disability parallels are important and I think they should be talked about more.

#i'm disabled and have THOUGHTS #fuck it i am throwing them out there #the disability parallels are too important #the queer parallels are talked about a lot but the disability parallels are just... left behind #fandom is for disabled people too #carry on #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #meta

[carulenes]

an analysis of wolfwood’s characterization in trigun stampede as well as his connection to vash (+ why i believe he’s likely much older than we think)

okay i’ve been thinking abt this since eps 10 or 11 were released (this show became my special interest the second it dropped if i'm being completely honest) but its been scratching at my brain ever since i read the sakuracon radio interview and since i haven’t seen anyone talking abt this yet i figured i may as well because it’s clear they really did pull very extensively from the manga and i really am loving how they adapted his character. also i occasionally keep seeing the “tristamp wolfwood is a kid/is 14-15” takes which i need to at least try to help put to rest bc they make no sense given his other iterations and would actively make the story worse.

a quick tldr of my main points before i get on my very long winded soapbox:

wolfwood in trigun stampede has been used as an undying, unkillable soldier by the eye of michael for decades.

rollo as a character, as opposed to monev the gale, was designed specifically as a metaphor for wolfwood’s backstory.

wolfwood and vash are written to be literal complements to one another.

I literally don’t think I have the space to talk abt all my thoughts, and ofc these are all my personal thoughts so any and all of what i’m saying could be wrong, but direct analysis of eps 4-7 (as I think they’re the most important) and discussion of his trajectory in general under the cut (obvious spoilers for the show but also the manga as well as tw: discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation as well as the general tw list for the show's graphic content):

Starting first with a side point that Wolfwood was never a child at any point he was with Vash during thecourse of the story, including the manga. He has always been a man in his 20s, with trimax ww having the appearance of being in his 30s or 40s. It is absolutely crucial to his and Vash’s characterizations, as well as their entire dynamic together, that Wolfwood is an adult. Could make an entire separate post about this, but I feel like starting here is important.

Onto the sakuracon japan radio interview. The team gave a LOT of interesting insight into the development of the show, but one specific point stood out to me:

This is important, because I definitely missed it during the show’s initial run, but I think it’s REALLY obvious once you know what you’re looking for, and is a big factor in why I think he’s likely older than we realized.

————

EP 4: These are the very first lines that are said about him in the show, and the very first time we see him, he is absolutely exhausted:

We know that at this point, Wolfwood is likely on his way to Jeneora Rock to meet up with Vash to fulfill his contract...until Vash and co. quite literally slam into him (and his life) unexpectedly, nearly killing him with their van. He probably should’ve died except… he’s on his feet almost instantly, able to walk perfectly fine and being a jackass as though he didn’t get launched halfway across the desert by a moving vehicle. Which is… odd, naturally.

When they try to find help and instead find the dead couple, he specifically mentions that he isn't a priest like he's been in other iterations. He's now an undertaker, someone meant to guide others through their deaths:

His personality is hard to tap down. He's goofy and childish and downright unlikeable, and there's a hint of something lurking deeper, something menacing and potentially dangerous. So much so that Roberto is on edge the entire time their group is together after being swallowed by the Grand Worm, and flat out tells Vash that Wolfwood is untrustworthy and likely an assassin, "a man who can kill with a smile on his face". And Vash’s response is… really fucking weird, given how long the two have known each other:

not to mention he's wearing sunglasses Wolfwood is rightfully very ??? in response because, what the fuck is he talking about, and why is he so genuine about it, they just met???

Fast forward to a bit later, when Wolfwood is like "hey man, you really shouldn't be so trusting. I could've shot you in the back several times now." To which Vash is like "but you didn't, though." And Wolfwood is even more confused because is this guy stupid???

And then it's time for the final act: Wolfwood reveals his Punisher, destroying the Grand Worm while giving the illusion of taking out Zazie as well. Meryl was informed by someone that Wolfwood had been the one to save them all, but when she tries to thank him, he immediately shifts the subject, being annoying and arguably completely unlikeable. Roberto points out that Wolfwood had lied about who he was, trying to get Vash to realize that he still can't be trusted, and again Vash shoots it down: "We're alive because of him."

Wolfwood showed his role as the Punisher without hesitation, and not only was Vash not really phased by it, but he actually seemed to be inspired by him, stopping his self-destructive tendencies and even repeating his own words back to him. And that's the moment we finally learn his name in the show:

But then, almost immediately, we have a complete reversal of his scene with Vash in the Worm. It’s also of note that Zazie always specifically says human lives:

————

EP 5: One of the most important episodes in this discussion, and it starts with the name alone, "Child of Blessing". Here’s a very general summary:

A young boy in a much less than ideal living situation is chosen to be 'a blessing upon the world through his sacrifice', which turns out to secretly be mutilative experimentation on children in search of a subject compatible with a mysterious medicine that can heal any injury. The meds warp him, morph him into something that doesn't even appear to be human. He tries to return home, but his mother, the only family he knows and loves, is terrified of him. She calls him a monster, and the boy finds himself struggling to articulate who he is. Then, he wanders alone alone without purpose in that unchanging altered body, a body that can withstand lethal amounts of damage directly because of the meds, for at least 20 years. All he has is a single name: Vash the Stampede, the person who promised to save him, and the one person who managed to bring back his consciousness in the end, if only for a moment.

The moment Nicholas sees Rollo regenerate is the second the switch flips. He instantly demands to know what the fuck is up with him, and when Vash responds telling him that he was too late to give him the medicine he needed, Wolfwood shuts down, because he recognizes himself. From this moment until the rest of the episode, we are no longer seeing Nicholas D. Wolfwood; we're seeing Nicholas the Punisher.

Vash continues to push Rollo to remember who he is, while Nicholas continuously says that there's no way to save him, that he's already a monster now. In the final moments, Nicholas inevitably feels tasked with Rollo's death like the undertaker he is, and when Vash angrily demands to know why he took the shot, his response is:

When discussing Rollo's killer, Elendira refers to Nicholas by name, but Conrad specifically states that no, he is the Punisher.

In vol 10 of the manga, Vash thinks to himself: “I met a strange man. Just as I thought we had come to an understanding, I found that our core beliefs were opposed to each other. I was used to such situations, but I wonder how he felt.”

————

EP 6: This episode builds directly upon the foundations set by the episode prior. Child of Blessing ended with Rollo being referred to repeatedly as a monster, and this episode begins with Nicholas in the middle of completing a kill. Right before he does, his victim gets one final glance at his assailant, an inhuman looking executioner, and calls him a monster… directly because he will not die. He’s also been shown knocking back meds like tequila shots in tristamp, which we all know was NOT possible in the manga. During the flashback scene, Nicholas is literally called the Child of Blessing.

We see a very similar sequence with Nicholas that we saw with Rollo; the horrific torture, the bodily mutilation (during which Conrad specifically mentions that the drug will heal all damage done the body, as well as rebuild and strengthen the cells), and the attempt to return home:

Something different happens with Nicholas, though. Nicholas can't go home; he’s literally yanked away from his chance at freedom by Legato. Nicholas can’t go home, likely ever again in his mind, because Hopeland Orphanage and the Eye of Michael represent two fundamentally different ideals.

Hopeland (and thus Livio) is exactly like its name for Nicholas: it is is land of hope, the only place in the world where Wolfwood was allowed to exist freely. When Nicholas was taken by EoM, Wolfwood began to die.

The entirety of the EoM is shrouded in imagery of death and rebirth, specifically in regards to humanity. Humanity in this case has a dual meaning: humanity as a species, and humanity as a concept. Their philosophy is that the end justifies the means in that humans in this form will be preserved and would likely live exceedingly longer lives but, as repeatedly mentioned, there are side effects.

Aging and death are integral parts of the human experience, the two aspects of life that we ALL experience regardless of circumstance. Can you be human without humanity?

The message behind these two episodes is to show that the process of becoming part of the EoM is a metaphorical crucifixion symbolizing the death of one’s humanity. And Nicholas is interesting, because he’s almost the perfect specimen in their eyes and is treated as such. Almost. The only thing holding him back are the two strands of humanity he has left, both which are nearly destroyed in the very next episode.

————

EP 7: In the previous episode, during the animated flashback of Nicholas and Livio, we see a few scattered scenes of other people living at the orphanage. Interestingly, while almost all of the children are seen with very sparse detail (or even none really at all), there is one person, the caretaker, whose face we get a pretty clear picture of. At the very beginning of this episode, we have the first and only shot of the inside of the orphanage in the usual style. While none of the children are familiar and actually aren’t incredibly distinguishable from one another, there is one figure in the room with recognizable hair, but looks considerably older than in the flashback:

During the majority of their interactions, you don’t see Nicholas and Livio interacting with any of the other children. They are simply a background, a set piece to the story and a representation of just how other they were forced to become.

This episode features them fighting each other, dealing each other what should be mortal wounds, but somehow remain standing, as though they’re perfectly fine. As if on cue, the soldiers stationed call them both monsters and run away in fear.

But Vash doesn’t run from the danger. He runs towards it.

Nicholas tries to stop him, and all he gets in return is “he’s important to you, isn’t he?” as though that’s enough. But it is enough for Vash. And Nicholas doesn’t know what to do with that.

Nicholas comes dangerously close to giving up, to giving into his role as the Punisher and killing the last bit of Wolfwood to do so, but it’s Vash who stops him. He diverts his shot and, instead of hurting Livio, literally frees Nicholas from Legato and Zazie’s trap. Vash tells him to make him remember, and Nicholas thinks it’s bullshit… until he doesn’t.

And when he finally relents, when he tries to emulate what the silly blonde idiot keeps screaming at him about… It works. For a moment, but Livio does wake up for a moment. Nicholas hadn’t been able to see Rollo, but he did see this. And he really doesn’t know what to do about it.

To drive the point home, Livio drives a bullet into his own head and falls to the ground in a scene very reminiscent of Rollo’s death… but is implied to still be alive. With him saved, now it’s time for Hopeland. And this is when the narrative really turns a focus to the balance between Nicholas and Vash.

The group is half convinced that they’re about to die snd that the town will be destroyed when, all of a sudden, it’s Nicholas who’s yelling that they have to do something. Because despite all the noise Nicholas makes about self-sacrifice and calling Vash a weirdo, he’s directly inspired by his energy, which is proven correct when Vash is the first one to side with him.

Then, somehow despite the odds, the two of them manage to work together to stop the ion cannon. Which should have been impossible. And because of this, Nicholas is finally willing to give Vash the chance to take the lead on things.

When Vash and Wolfwood discuss their plan to save Hopeland, and after they argue about which method is the correct one, the conversation they have is probably the clearest depiction of Nicholas’ inner struggle:

Nicholas: Have it your way. Just for today. I do owe you one… but if the orphanage doesn’t survive this, I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead before I kill you.

Vash: Wolfwood…

Nicholas: Shut up! I’m the Punisher! I’m not like you… I’m Nicholas the Punisher…

He murmurs the last line as though he’s trying to convince himself. He uses his persona as the Punisher almost like a mask, like a cat puffing up and hissing to deter predators. It’s a defense mechanism, and a trauma response. Except.. it still doesn’t work, because the entire time Vash is simply not listening. Regardless of what Nicholas says, Vash does not stop fighting Nicholas on the title that was forced on him by the EoM and, in fact, blatantly rejects it. And the moment Nicholas finishes speaking, when he declares himself to be the Punisher, the episode’s title card finally appears: Wolfwood.

It's a direct representation of this panel of Nicholas' inner monologue from the manga:

——

Nicholas and Vash’s roles as each other’s complements is emphasized very deliberately when the two work to stop the sand steamer from smashing into Hopeland. These screenshots occur one directly after the other:

Another detail the team mentioned often during the interview was attention to use of color. In color theory, blue and orange are complementary colors: hues that are opposite each other on the color wheel but, when used together, come together to create harmony and balance. Additionally, Vash is the character typically associated with warm hues, while Nicholas is paired with colder ones; with the colors flipped, it’s almost as if they are literally mirror images of each other.

The two are in the same position, in the middle of similar actions, both drawing strength from that which makes them “other” in order to work together to protect a common goal. And once again, miraculously, they succeed, able to do together what neither could ever have done together.

This mirror motif is even clearer when comparing these respective scenes from each of their respective backstory episodes:

For Nicholas and Vash, on top of sharing such a crucial common thread in their backstories, often in the show they are seen together, either side by side or back to back. Often they’re shown doing the same thing at the same time, almost as though they’re moving as one. And they consistently save each other over and over again, with Nicholas acting to save Vash physically, and Vash working to protect Nicholas’ psyche. Vash refuses to let anyone continue to see themselves as a monster, as lesser than, in much the same way Nicholas refuses to let anyone else be used as one.

They are a pair, a unit working together to create a force that is stronger than the sum of its parts.

They are both “other”, they are both different, and they both seek to protect the things they love and care about despite the excruciating pain it can put them through.

Nicholas and Vash’s entite dynamic is basically “I don’t understand you, but I recognize you. I recognize myself in you. And somehow, that’s enough for me to trust you.”

————

So with all this in mind, here is how I’ve come to understand Nicholas’ arc throughout tristamp:

When we first meet Nicholas D. Wolfwood we meet a weary man longing for death to save him, longing to be free from the purposelessness of his life but knowing the hope is futile. He works for the Eye of Michael as an assassin against his will and has for God knows how long. Not only is he no longer a priest, but he’s no longer religious at all, having no belief in God at all and a particular disdain for the false promises and hopes of salvation that are portrayed by it. He doesn’t care about the clothes he wears, whether he looks messy, whether it’s suited for the desert, because he literally doesn’t care about anything, really. He has no home, and can never go back to the orphanage— there’s likely no one left there that he knows anyway, and even of there were, they wouldn’t recognize the monster he’s become. Nicholas is tired, he’s angry, he’s potentially depressed. He fights impractically, sometimes leaving himself open to attacks he could probably block with his Punisher, but he just doesn’t care. He’s just here to do his job, which is to escort his piece of shit CEO’s assumedly equally piece of shit brother to him so they can destroy the world together and he can hopefully die off in peace.

Until he actually meets Vash, and he’s… really fucking weird. He’s dumb and naive and acts like he knows Nicholas on some deep level after they’ve just met, but… he’s not a bad guy. Just another crybaby who doesn’t understand the world. He can see the Punisher and not be frightened by it. That means something, means enough that he feels that he can introduce himself now. He still doesn’t know how to handle kindness, so he deflects whenever it’s shown to him, making irreverent jokes and being annoying in order push people away. But then he meets Rollo and has a flashback to himself. He learns that Vash is no stranger to false promises, has sold the same thing to the kid who ended up just like him, and yeah, Vash is no better than the EoM. He talks a big game but doesn’t actually know anything. Nicholas kills Rollo out of mercy because it’s what he wishes could be done to him; every day of living his life is torture.

But then his hometown and childhood best friend are suddenly in danger. He’d completely forgotten what it felt like to have something to lose, to protect. And without planning for it, Vash also becomes something to protect, because even if he doesn’t act like it, Nicholas desperately wants to believe in him. He doesn’t want the EoM to be right. But the feeling of having something to protect is terrifying, because it means you have something to lose. Nicholas gets incredibly stressed out by this, because it’s been so long that he doesn’t even remember what it feels like. But it’s enough to get him, for likely the first time in a very long time, to hope. And it’s Vash who helps him so that he’s able to hang on to that hope for a little while longer.

He still can’t get too excited, because he hasn’t actually finished his job yet. Before he does, though, he sees Vash’s scars (which was a deliberate choice, as in both the manga AND the og anime this scene went to the girls) and wow, if it weren’t for the regenerative properties of the drug, he would likely look the same. He drops Vash off with Knives and knows that Vash will likely be killed, but he’s also expecting to die himself in the fallout, so it doesn’t matter, really. Except for some reason, it does a bit. And then, yet again, Vash miraculously doesn’t die, and in fact changes the game and actually looks like he might stand a chance against Knives, and is clearly willing to die to do it.

And then July is destroyed. But, miraculously, Nicholas isn’t dead. He still finished the contract, but now… now what?

The show began with Nicholas at his lowest, and ends with Vash at his lowest point. And Nicholas owes him one.

————

INCREDIBLY long story short, it really is clear that they weren’t kidding, the team really drew SO MUCH inspiration from the themes trimax it’s unbelievable and I really really think we’re in for something incredible during the second phase. I also think it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.

#trigun stampede #trigun #trigun 2023 #nicholas d. wolfwood #nicholas the punisher #tristamp #tristamp wolfwood #vash the stampede #tristamp vash #this had no reason being this long but fuck it we ball and i was off work and had the time anyway #neurodivergency go brrr ig idk but like i really haven’t seen anyone mention any of this #and like it really is entirely possible someone did but like i Need to discuss it

[morethanwonderful]

I've made posts circling this idea before, but it really just re-hit me how significant it is that the TomGreg "marriage" scene comes the episode after Greg laments that he wants someone who will love the "real him."

Like, the whole problem with Greg wanting someone who loves the real him is that the real him kinda sucks. He's a spineless, entitled little worm of a man who has spent the past year neoptism-ing his way up the ladder at a corporation that is genuinely evil. He's power hungry and manipulative, and he was instrumental in covering up a horrifying mass of crimes.

You think the fucking Contessa would want to be seen with him if she knew what a weasel he really is?

Then, right as this conundrum is presented, as the conclusion to his season arc, Greg makes his deal with the devil and looks Tom in the eye to say that having a soul is boring.

He blatantly admits that he doesn't want to be good, and Tom's response is to laugh along in encouragement. And that's because, while Greg may have complicated feelings about Tom, Tom is one of the few people in the world who knows how much Greg sucks and still rather likes him. He's the one goddamn person who stands a chance of looking at Greg's true self and saying "yeah, I'll stick around."

Their bizarre little metaphorical wedding offers Gregory exactly what he was missing from his relationship.

#I feel like I've posted about this scene a thousand times #and I've addressed most/all of these ideas in the past #but I don't *think* I've put the thoughts together in precisely this way before #and we're content starved. so even if I have posted this thought before. it's not like the succ girlies can really complain lol #succession #tomgreg #gregory hirsch #successionposting #english major hours #tomgreg tag #cousin greg my beloved #gay womanizer tag

[maxwell-grant]

Fuck it, can you expand on your thoughts regarding What Can We Know About Thunderman?

One of the funniest and most horrible things I've ever read partially because like 60% of it is just pages and pages of Alan Moore stating industry facts and names with the serial numbers filed off, and if you have enough comic book brainworms to be reading Thunderman in the first place there will probably be at least one or a dozen references here and there that will spring out of nowhere and hit you like a punch in the gut (the one I remember was the Jack Cole one). A lot of the stuff in Thunderman that reads as absurd funny parody or metaphors too stupid to be real are actual industry facts that Moore has knowledge of, and even the stuff that isn't you can trace a direct line of what exactly it's referring to or who exactly this is referencing.

This is a story in part about how horrible it is to be a sicko with comic book brain worms that is mainly understandable if you're exactly that kind of person. Besides all the references to real-life people and events, most of the modern stuff he's making up are still just as incisive and accurate because literally nothing changed, not even in regards to the movie paradigm ("At last he has attained a semblance to a religious figure. Can we stop now?"). Much of this is Moore dunking on Certain Industry Guys he probably knew and interacted with and indirectly bullseyeing on more recent guys, because a lot of these guys are the same. There are your extremes like the one con-goer here who is pretty much just Max Landis verbatim, but there's also so much that's brutally on-point for industry practices and writers ("What if we had Thunderman do something, and then something happened?") that you can fill in your own names.

It's also an incredibly personal and tragic piece because the core story of it, in between vivid descriptions of Greg Land's office space porn oceans and self-destructive daydreams and rolling catastrophes, is about a guy who deeply loves his art form, deeply loves the creators and artists who gave him so much for so little in his life, and deals with so much horrible toxic bullshit that the only way he finds to live, the only way he finds to not be complicit in the pigsty, is to leave it all behind and work the poison out of his system forever. Like he very openly talks about the protagonist leaving it all behind to go write the next big novel and writing that note, and the non-superhero ideas that will come after, as something that nobody is going to care about, but that he has to do. I don't think I could fully appreciate the sequence where he quits his job at comics and walks out of the office feeling better than ever, until I myself got fired from an incredibly stressful job that made a thing I love (video editing) into the bane of my existence, and no amount of money worries in the world could make me not feel at that moment like I was walking home to the sunniest day of the year.

It wasn't only how much better life was without comics that had startled him, but also how the comics business looked, viewed from outside. How small it was; how cruel and how ridiculous. All the warped personalities the industry either attracted, or else bent and fashioned for itself out of naïve enthusiasts who'd been expecting something else. He couldn't understand why he'd not bailed out of the business years ago, though in a way he could. Part of the answer was just plain human inertia, and part was the fact that, from the inside, comics people and their weird behaviour could seem almost normal.

Dan was grateful he'd escaped in time, though he'd admit that even that escape was qualified. Removing himself from the comics field was one thing, stopping thinking about comics was another. Constantly, he'd find his mind alighting on some decomposing gobbet from the mental garbage-tip of trivia that his career had left him with, when that was the last thing he wanted to be thinking of. He probably should have anticipated some sort of reaction - thirty-something years in any field would leave you with a lot of baggage, and especially an enterprise almost designed to be obsessional, like comics -

His fantasy that he could be a proper literary author, living miles from anywhere and shunning interviews like Salinger or Pynchon, had congealed over this last few months from idle dream to psychological necessity. He'd put his farewell dossier together, and it was published without eliciting much in the way of a reaction or response, but the important thing for Dan was that he'd written it. His lip was better and he could speak normally again, since, for some reason, having quit the comics world, he was no longer trying to eat himself alive. Dan was committed, now, to his new life, and there could be no vacillating. Change or die, those were his options.

And putting aside the fact that "Dan" is killed by the Vince Coletta stand-in and the story itself ends in a much bleaker and more horrible note, to me that feels like Moore being very honest, as depressing as it may be, that nothing else he ever does is gonna get the kind of buzz and following and money and praise that he did for his corporate superhero droppings, and he still doesn't regret one bit what he left behind, and he's going to make the weird magic lizard stories he actually wants to do until he dies and try to not think about superheroes ever again even though he will obviously never fully succeed. Not just because it won't leave him alone, but because it's a part of his life. He loves stories, he loves art, he loves comics, and if not now, he very clearly deeply loved superheroes once, and maybe he still does if he can put aside the sheer nightmare bullshit toxicity attached to them that he's dealt with. I'd even point to a recent occasion he did try just that, with the character of Captain Universe, who accomplishes maybe the only real heroic act in LOEG: Tempest when he stops an atomic bomb from leveling England and ends the story with his big heartfelt wedding.

LOEG is the dead last place you'd expect Moore to place a heartfelt send-off to his superhero work, and much of it gets obscured by that asylum sequence where he savages existing IP capes and the farcical elements of the team and other criticisms at the genre, but it's there, and it's maybe the only story that has a happy ending in the book even. With Captain Universe, a character who has no real history, Moore is able to put all feelings for superhero IP and the big two aside and do this platonic ideal of a superhero and the creative possibilities and hopeful fantasy of a superhero. He's willing to poke holes in the guy and ruthlessly make fun of his shitty allies and villains, but LOEG affords Captain Universe an almost shocking degree of dignity (plus the existence of the canceled Superverse, which was going to be a LOEG-esque project with superheroes done with Rick Veitch tying in to The Show, showing Moore had plans to try writing superheroes again on his own terms even after everything). I think Thunderman in large part is about conciliating these feelings with a large degree of autobiography.

That's one emotional core of the story, but mainly I remember Thunderman for being really fucking funny. The EC Comics hearing. The porn ocean odyssey. Stan Lee Stan Lee-ing so hard he nearly gets killed by gangsters over it and one chapter detailing his transition from person to Character. Marvel was all along a CIA conspiracy to promote radiation poisoning. The chapter that's entirely dedicated to Moore stopping the story to riff and review the Superman movies. This books swings widly and it's an incredibly entertaining read.

And maybe the most horrible thing about Thunderman isn't in the way it's protagonist meets it's end or in the final chapter or even *gestures broadly at all of it*, it might just be the chapter before Alan Moore drops his Superman movie reviews, because with it comes the realization that yes, Alan Moore has been to Reddit, and has looked enough into reddit superhero discourse to be able to plausibly imitate it, which means he probably has sat through at least one argument about him too many. The stand-out of that chapter is the bit where he's riffing on Cavill's mustache fiasco and the DCEU, but it also includes some bits that now read as pretty perfect bullseye jabs at the MCU's current state of affairs.

#replies tag #superheroes #alan moore #illuminations #what can we know about thunderman #comic books #superhero comics

[shakertwelve]

hi i havent read ward but i just heard that the mass suicide is for real a thing and not a joke. can you please explain what the fuck goes on like what is that about why are they all killing themselves

okay so. killing scion didn’t stop the cycle actually it just made things worse. and now capes can randomly turn into titans (giant shard kaiju) and the titans are trying to destroy the world so all the shards can move on to the next phase of the cycle (which should not be possible because the entities are dead. you know, the plot of worm). and victoria comes up with this theory that they can crash the shard network and stop the titans if they do (and this is her word, this is what she says out loud) “genocide” of all capes. she makes bonesaw design a virus that can be transmitted between all capes (all capes in new england who are in direct contact with someone who’s already gotten it, really, but wildbow has forgotten that the rest of the world exists at this point, so it’s fine) and make them first fall asleep and then die. everyone is going to kill themselves to save the world, except the dirty villains who are too selfish to go along with this insane nonsense plan, who will be forced to comply anyway. at the last second, after you’ve watched every single character in ward kill themselves, it is revealed that actually! they don’t have to die, they all just had to fall asleep for a while, and if civilians come and wake them up before the death part of the virus kicks in, they’ll be fine! this is meant to represent victoria learning to trust people and also serve as the culmination of the “anti-cape bigotry as an oppression metaphor” subplot, which is the dumbest shit on earth. book ends. fuck you it’s ward

#ask

[operator-report]

My last two Worm posts have been downers so let’s answer one of the most crucial (to me) characterization questions ever: what is each Traveler’s favorite Radiohead album?

Noelle: The Traveler most likely to listen to Radiohead for real, in canon. Noelle came across an album called OK Computer one day and was like “I mean I like computers” and was greeted with the most anxious, dissociative and lush nerd music of all time. She was then immediately hooked. OK Computer is still Noelle’s favorite. Paranoid Android literally happened to her. So did all those car crashes Thom Yorke sings about although that’s maybe a bit more metaphorical. Her one bad Radiohead opinion is that she skips Electioneering when she’s listening to the CD in the car.

Krouse: Started listening to Radiohead when he found out Noelle liked them; has only heard OK Computer and Kid A but pretends to know their entire discography. Thinks Kid A is the best Radiohead album because that’s the critically accepted Correct Opinion and he knows more about [insert topic here] than you do. Krouse can quote Kid A’s Pitchfork review from memory.

Marissa: Noelle didn’t show Krouse Radiohead on purpose because she was worried he’d make a joke about the band being cliche. She did show them to Marissa. Marissa does not like Radiohead. Whenever Noelle listens to Radiohead in the car she gets a little bummed out on Noelle’s behalf, but hey, whatever makes her happy. In Rainbows is their least worst album but like. Why does that guy sing like that don’t you want to listen to Paramore instead Noelle.

Jess: As the Traveler with the best taste by, like, a mile, Jess likes In Rainbows for real. She thinks the pay-what-you-want release was a cool and revolutionary thing for bands to do in the ~internet age~ and thinks the songs whip too. She will encourage you not to forget In Rainbows Disk 2. Krouse has no idea that In Rainbows Disk 2 exists and thinks that Jess is fucking with him every time she brings it up (she is).

Luke: Luke can name a couple of 90’s-era Radiohead singles and doesn’t mind jokingly singing Creep at karaoke. In a pre-Simurgh fit of being Down Bad For Noelle, Krouse informed him that Pablo Honey is bad so he says his favorite is The Bends, as instructed by Krouse, if anyone asks. Will then quickly switch the topic of conversation to Green Day.

Oliver: Went on a parallel journey to Krouse in which he found out about Radiohead through Noelle and decided to listen to them because he thinks Noelle is cool. The big differences between Oliver and Krouse are (1) he has listened to OK Computer, Kid A, Amnesiac, and In Rainbows; and (2) he likes Kid A for non-stupid reasons. This is a person who would genuinely like to learn How To Disappear Completely.

Cody: Creep speaks to him. It’s also the only Radiohead song he’s ever heard. Pablo Honey.

#please click the pitchfork link #the kid a album review does not disappoint #worm #parahumans #wormblr #the travelers

[thatgirlwithasquid]

ive been thinking about witch!steve nonstop since reading this so @intothedysphoria this is dedicated to you for giving me brain worms :)

-

Magic is a sensory nightmare.

That's something they never dwell on in the books, and the TV series, and the movies. It's always this amazing, beautiful thing that, sure, takes a lot of effort but is just so rewarding when mastered. And in all the media magic is cutesy and sweet...

That's not what magic is like, though, and Steve hates it. He hates it because all of his friends wish they were witches, or that they could join a coven for the found family vibes they see in their shows. But that's not what it's like! At least not from Steve's perspective.

"That's bullshit," Steve scoffs, scowling at the screen of whatever today's rom-com is called.

Carol loves a good rom-com, or a bad one, or a mediocre one. He's not even sure if it's ironic, or if it's maybe just to wind him up. But he's so often popped down on her sofa, watching a witch who was definitely not written by an actual magic user stumble through their little meet-cute. Because it's always witches, and it always has been since Carol bought herself a set of tarot cards when they were twelve to see if she had some psychic abilities because 'you don't know that I wasn't adopted and am secretly the long lost daughter of a powerful witch'.

She wasn't, she isn't, and Steve thinks magic-centred rom-coms are the worst thing to ever be invented.

Carol just shushes him, eyes glued to the screen like this is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. And maybe objectively this isn't the worst movie she's forced him to sit through, but it's still grinding his gears.

"But it is! It's bullshit. Messing up a spell doesn't do that."

"Shut up, Steve. It's because she's thinking about Mick, so her subconscious is making the spell pull him towards her."

"But that's not how magic works. A spell doesn't suddenly just turn someone into a magnet because they're thinking about someone else."

Carol lets out a frustrated groan.

Fine, maybe Steve is ruining Carol's fun a bit but it's just so infuriating. Because magic is a sensory nightmare, and fucking up spells is a pain rather than a metaphorical (or sometimes literal; and if Carol ever tries to make him rewatch 'The Valentine's Spell' again he will never talk to her again) cupids arrow come to match them up with their apparent soulmate.

Casting a spell has always been one of Steve's least favourite things. The feeling starts in his hands (because, no, Carol, wands are never a real thing witches use and that's frankly an offensive stereotype that he could infodump the whole history of) as the magic starts to build. Before long the feeling is tingling along his whole arms, taking over their feeling with the force of the spell. And, depending on what spell is being cast, they might go hot, or cold, or heavy, or numb, or shaky. None of those are fun sensations, and therefor casting a spell is not fun and cute and rom-com worthy.

That's without touching on the power building up in his chest, making his heartbeat loud in his ears. And then if one messes a spell up, that energy might burst out potentially dangerously (if the spell is a big one) or simply burrow itself beneath his skin leaving him antsy and stressed and horribly overstimulated and understimulated at the same time.

Really, the fact that the whole ordeal of casting a spell is so unpleasant is the main reason that Steve is such a spectacularly bad witch. He point blank refused to go to any lessons when younger and turned away all his mom's attempts at teaching him herself. He just hated the way it felt. That's the reason he only uses his magic for simple things, and only to prevent a power buildup that a more magically inclined witch may find favourable but that to him just gives the feeling of bugs creeping under his skin.

When he next goes to open his mouth, though, Carol kicks him from her place sprawled on the other side of the sofa. He takes that as his cue that it's time to shut up and just lets Carol watch her garbage.

The movie doesn't get any better.

By the time it's finally over, Steve's impatient scowls at the television had gotten bad enough that Carol just dumped him outside of her place with a harsh goodbye. It's dramatic enough to make him scoff, even though he knows it's 80% an act on Carol's part. She not-so-secretly loves making him suffer through these things, and must find his annoyed commentary at least a little bit amusing to keep dragging him around to watch these things the way she does.

Lost in thought, Steve his halfway home by the time he realises his keys aren't in his pocket.

"Shit," he hisses under his breath.

Great. That’s just great. His parents are off on a business trip again, which is just his luck. Those things are pretty infrequent so of course they’d be out the one time he loses his keys.

And they are lost because Steve had made a panicked grab for them as Carol shoved him out, realising the woman was not going to wait for him to put on his shoes, let alone come back inside to get them. So, he had them when he began the trek home. But they’re not in his pocket now; ergo, he lost them on the way.

With a despondent sigh, Steve turns around and resigns himself to the search for them. It was about time he actually practiced a spell, anyway, he reasons to himself as he begins tracing symbols on the back of his hands and watching the skin there glow. And… there it is. The tingling and the warmth starts up and Steve has to grit his teeth to ignore the way he wants to never touch anything again.

The numbness has crept up to his wrists and his basic tracking spell is almost complete when he collides with the chest. Magic pounds in his chest and the sound of his heartbeat echoes that with a rush of blood in his ears. With a snap, the spell breaks away from him and bursts out, fuelled by the sparking reserves of magic that had built up in him over the last few weeks of refusing to conjure so much as a flicker of light.

Well, shit.

He feels it, when his magic finds something else supernatural to twine itself with, coaxed on my the half-formed potential of a tracking spell. It’s like it hits something solid and forces itself into any cracks and crevices it can find, getting itself stuck there.

When the energy dissipates and Steve can breathe again, he looks up into the glowing golden eyes of the werewolf he slammed face first into. That’s when Steve thinks he might owe Carol and her shitty witch movies an apology, because it turns out maybe magic can turn someone into something like a magnet. It seems like he’s magically tied himself to none other than Billy Hargrove.

-

might expand on this in the future. for now i just needed to get something out lol. witch!steve, werewolf!billy and forced proximity yay

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #carol perkins

[leavemeal0newithmym0ss]

let’s fucking get started with that 1st opening minus the lyrics bcuz that’s a whole other can of worms

Someone else (can’t remember who off the top off my head) pointed out how the flower represented saiki and I just. it not even being a dead flower??? The petals are just coming off??? MORE PETALS COMING OFF WHEN HIS FRIENDS ARE FIRST INTRODUCED???? I’m already crying man. They really were bringing his spirit down when they kept projecting on him and therefore weren’t really making an effort to know him bcuz they thought they had him all figured out huh. We haven’t even scratched the surface of what I wanna talk about and the screenshots make it extra long lmao.

Let’s talk about why they choose these two powers to show off. First off him just being able to easily destroy stuff is probably meant to show how fragile everyone and everything seems around him and how easily he could hurt someone (he would never, but his upbringing and self-deprecating thoughts says he could and that’s all that matters). Next, flying. It seems really cool but the fact that there’s literally no one else there makes the scene feel like incredibly lonely to me. Like minus the buildings and moon the sky is a whole lot of nothing.

Saiki’s friends making him feel trapped minus takahashi get the fuck out this isn’t about you. Hairo trying to make the rope tighter might be representing him making situations worse without meaning to; I wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks he’s loosening it. Toritsuka just sprawling on top of saiki with no regard for him. Nendou is probably representing a weight to saiki; he’s not really doing anything other than eating ramen but saiki likely feels guilty about just being a danger to the dude. I’m pretty sure in the beginning of the manga saiki stated multiple times that Nendou was a good guy. Kaidou drawing on his face and pointing at him is definitely about how Kaidou projects onto saiki and “creates” a personality for him. Teruhashi is interesting bcuz she’s not really doing anything to him unlike the others but she is also up in his face like she’s trying to get his attention and saiki, who in this big metaphor can’t move his body (probably bcuz he’s scared the slightest twitch will throw off their illusion that they created for him and he has abandonment issues they’ll leave now that I think about it), can’t really tell her to stop.

Ok who’s house is this and why is saiki using his x-ray vision? Why did they choose this house to start off x-ray? Is it teruhashi’s? Why does it feel like teruhashi’s and why is saiki using x-ray vision on it?

Him putting the flower that represents him back together with his powers we love to see it. This is probably at the end where he finally excepts his powers as a part of himself and stops tearing himself down bcuz of them (although that is going to take time, he’s starting to at least).

MORE FLOWERS GROWING IN THE FIELD THE MORE FRIENDS HE SURROUNDS HIMSELF BY AND THE MORE PEOPLE HE LETS GET CLOSE??? HIS EYES HAVING A SHINE IN THEM AT THE END WHEN IN THEY BEGINNING THEY WERE DEVOID OF LIFE??? WHAT IF I SOB

#the ending of the op always gets to me man #Holy shit this is long I’m so sorry #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki no psi nan #saiki kusuo

[f0xesand0wls]

richard siken lines that make me lose my fucking mind -

look at the light through the windowpane. that means it’s noon, that means we’re inconsolable.

can we love nature for what it really is: predatory? we do not walk through a passive landscape.

someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story.

tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.

i hope it’s love. i’m trying really hard to make it love.

there are many names in history but none of them are ours.

so it’s summer, so it’s suicide, so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

what holds it together? glue. some kind of glue. the image remains as a body would. i turned the image over like a rock, but then the worms.

i clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. i’d rather quit. i’d rather be sad. it’s too much work.

the prayer of going nowhere going nowhere

words too small for any hope or promise, not really soothing, but soothing nonetheless.

and the eyes that remained eyes and not the doorways we had hoped for.

paint ghosts over everything, the sadness of everything.

we collide with place, which is another name for god, and limp away with a permanent injury.

but tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.

to make something beautiful should be enough. it isn’t. it should be.

i prefer to blame others, it’s easier.

we’ve made a graveyard out of a bone white afternoon.

i made this place for you. a place for you to love me.

i wanted to explain myself to myself in an understandable way.

i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything.

i want to tell you this story without having to be in it.

sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how i ruined everything by saying it out loud.

we deduce backward into first causes - stone in the pond of things.

are you there, sweetheart? do you know me? is this microphone live?

you see, i take the parts that i remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what i say or love me back.

every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out you will be alone always and then you will die.

we clutch our bellies and roll on the floor… when i say this, it should mean laughter, not poison.

the dawn was breaking the bones of your heart like twigs.

a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he’s still left with the river. a man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he’s still left with his hands.

i will turn myself into a gun, because i’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. i’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue.

as everything is a metaphor for itself.

something’s not right about what i’m doing but i’m still doing it - living in the worst parts, ruining myself.

if the window is over your heart, and it is painted shut, then we are breathing river water.

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore.

what is a ghost? something dead that seems to be alive. something dead that doesn’t know it’s dead.

you try to warn him, you tell him you will want to get inside him, and ruin him, but he doesn’t listen. you do this, you do. you take things you love and tear them apart.

do you love yourself? i don’t have to answer that. it should matter.

things happen all the time, things happen every minute that have nothing to do with us.

the boy on the bridge. the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge. oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.

i am singing now while rome burns. we are all just trying to be holy.

the best part of spirituality is reverence. there are other parts. some people like to hear the sound of their own voice.

you are a fever i am learning to live with, and everything is happening at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.

you need it for the moment you need it, then you bless it.

there’s a black dog and there’s a white dog, depends on which you feed. depends on which damn dog you live with.

desire, like a monster, crawls up out of the lake.

there’s a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly.

evidence of evil but not proof.

a hammer is a hammer when it hits the nail. a hammer is not a hammer when it’s sleeping. i woke up tired of being the hammer.

the maiden flees or prays, depending.

this is the testimony of the deer: solitude, the long corridors, love from a distance.

if it hurts, we’re doing it to ourselves.

cut me open and the light streams out. stitch me up and the light keeps streaming out between the stitches.

take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest.

he knows that when you snap a mast it’s time to get a set of oars or learn to breathe underwater.

if you don’t believe in god or fate you still must believe in narrative.

two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. it’s time to choose sides now. the stitches or the devouring mouth?

he took the gods and made them human.

is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?

in the wrong light anyone can look like a darkness.

god is the space between two men and the devil is the space between two men.

i make up things that i would never say. i say them very quietly.

the body of life is a nightmare.

she existed enough to be painted. she could have been an idea, but that’s another kind of existing.

we have not touched the stars nor are we forgiven.

a gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

#words #save #richard siken

[jamiesfootball]

Fic updates for the post-season 3 fic

I’ve somehow stumbled over the 50k words mark 🎉🎉🎉

Dani, who was previously Sir-Not-Appearing-in-This-Fic, somehow wormed his way in and is now appearing in this fic. And somehow this didn’t even dent my outline - he slotted right in like magic. Dani Rojas is life, but he is also magic

I just think it’s criminal that him and Jamie never got to cuddle so I will be fixing that thanks

Why is Nigerian food so hard to research?

Roy is doing both awful and great at therapy, which is definitely not a race

Isaac, Isaac, Isaac. You are a pillar a rock a man of great talents and mystery and I am just loving peeling your layers.

Colin Hughes really is just some guy, huh? (Crying about it)

No really, why is Nigerian food so hard to research

My toxic trait is that I cannot resist putting Jamie Tartt in little outfits. Yes he is depressed and in a self destructive spiral. But also *waves hands* outfits.

Sam Obisanya has a nemesis; former bully surprised and outraged to learn about it, thought he was the only one who was that big of a dick

Me @ Nigerian food blogs - please show me the forbidden spice blends and quit making my browser cry in JavaScript

Jamie’s outfits are plot relevant, actually

On a related note- Fuck James Tartt

Keeley Jones please stop stealing every scene challenge. you are cute as a button and you are going through some stuff but we have an outline to stick to and every time you show up the word count explodes

Except the one scene????? I need you to talk a lot for????? Girl istg

I know y’all like dog metaphors, but do you like them in a non-sexy way? Because i got a lot of that (this is shameless abuse of the making the team mascot into a metaphor ngl. Also that ‘How to be a dog’ poem really fucked me up)

Do I need to spend so much time looking up recipes? No. Am i going to? Yes. I find it very fun, and this entire fic is a shameless exercise of self-indulgence and gooey feelings and found family (and depression and self esteem issues and abuse and finally talking shit out) and I hope it’ll be worth it in the end

#[redacted title] post season three fic #if like one person likes this thing when it’s done I’ll be so happy #bonus news: since the beginning bit is pretty Roy introspection heavy when I need a break #I go work on my jamie falls asleep 5+1 fic #which is almost entirely jamie pov and gosh I like it #fic update #ted lasso fic #anyhoo I just saw the notification that ‘Cityzens’ updated so I’m gonna take a breather and enjoy that for a bit

[maximoff-pan]

reader holding steve’s hand (but their really only holding one or two of his fingers) and steve’s like “you alright there?”

this is such a cute idea, I love it <3

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): mentions of the mindflayer and demodogs, unedited writing, set in season 2 (because I’m currently rewatching and that’s where I’m at rn), so if you haven’t seen that, you have been warned… although it has been five years, you’ve had your chance for it not to be spoiled...

quick a/n: this is very much an AU of the season 2 scene where the kids make a plan to go help El (no Billy because I didn’t feel like including him)... hopefully this is okay, and thank you all for sticking with me!

Holding his hand seems like such a small thing, something so easy and so instinctual that it shouldn’t be this hard. But it is. Because for whatever reason, this doesn’t feel real. 

You’d think it would feel grounding, that it would maybe force you back into a clearer head space. But it’s doing the opposite. As the butterflies fly freely through your stomach, you feel yourself falling further and further from reality. 

This is what all the girls at Hawkin’s High meant when they said Steve Harrington was dreamy. But all that gossip could never have prepared you for this feeling right now. Oh lord is his touch ever hypnotizing. Even if it is just a platonic attempt at reassuring each other that everything is going to be okay. Even if it is nothing. 

Despite it all, you want to curse yourself for falling for it. As if you ever should have thought yourself immune to his charms; you were so naive, so adamant that you could never like someone like him. Little did you know how quickly he could crack that superiority complex of yours.

And as the saying goes, oh how the mighty have fallen.

Or is it, the pride comes before the fall? Either way, you’re fucked.

More than anything, it’s such a strange thing to feel yourself fall into something (or someone) that you promised yourself you never would. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be sitting in Jonathan Byers’ living room, your hand reaching for Steve Harrington’s as you await answers on what feels like the fate of the universe. 

Holding his hand seems like it should be the least of your problems, and yet it has wormed its way to the forefront of your mind. 

Honestly, for the life of you, you cannot seem to grip his entire hand. You convince yourself that it must be nerves, your fingers merely clinging on to the tips of two of his. It’s more of a grazing touch really… a weak bid at trying to hold on. If your mind was in a more settled state, you might not have missed the blatant metaphor shining in your face. You also might have even laughed.

But this? The impending doom of the mind flayer and its pack of demodog minions? Not a laughing matter…not in the slightest. And all you can do is wait.

You don’t even want to think about it, how much longer you’ll have to stay here, just waiting. Let alone allowing yourself to stew in the immense pressure you’re feeling right now. If you’re being honest, it’s the most soul crushing stress you’ve ever felt; it’s like you can almost feel the grey hairs forming. Because these kids, they’re just, kids, innocent and losing their last ounce of childhood by the very second. Fuck, you’re barely an adult yourself. And as much as you know you’re not their parent, you feel responsible for each of them in your own silly way. You’d die before you’d let anything happen to them, and you know Steve would too.

That’s what makes this all so scary, and yet paradoxically, reassuring all the same. You’ve got something to live for, people who are depending on you to be okay. And that’s oddly comforting to you, as much as it can be.

“You alright there?” Steve’s voice echoes in your ears. You’re not sure how long he’s been trying to gain your attention, but by the knowing smile on his face, you’d have to take a guess that this isn’t the first time he’s asked you how you’re doing.

Breathing even, he lets go of your fingers, the warmth of his touch suddenly gone, and equally as noticeable. To your surprise, it doesn’t last long before he’s nudging you playfully, his arm gently meeting yours with a soft bump.

When you don’t respond like you usually would, with a bubbled up laugh or a reassuring sigh of, perfectly peachy, Steve’s shoulders drop. He follows your gaze to the kids who are gathered at the Byers’ kitchen table, arguing over what to do next. 

They want to fight back and help their friend, an admirable if not risky idea to act on, you must admit. But they’re brave kids, — albeit impulsive ones — much braver than any other kids you’ve ever met. So, you’re not surprised when you overhear their plan to lure the demodogs away from El, allowing her better access to the mind flayer. 

It doesn’t draw the most confidence in you to know that you and Steve are at a disagreement. While you know where Steve’s opinion lies, and you agree with him that keeping the kids safe is one of your top priorities, you can’t help but want to hear them out. Maybe it’s delusion talking, or maybe you’ve taken one too many hits to the head, but the more time you spend here waiting for any news, the more your heart wants to fight back too, even if your brain knows how stupid that would be. 

“I think we should go.”

Steve’s head turns so fast you think he might have whiplash, and when your eyes meet his, they’re wider than saucers. His deep amber orbs blink in confusion as his brow furrows in surprise.

Shock even.

“You, what?”

Standing from your previous spot on the couch next to Steve, you make your way over to the kids, hands placed firmly on your hips. Facing him now, you echo, “I think we should go.”

“Fucking right!” Dustin’s holler causes a chorus of ‘yeah’s’ and vigorous nods to be shared amongst the group. All except for Steve. He’s less than impressed. 

You’re supposed to be on his side, not theirs. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” He repeats the word like a mantra, flicking his wrist in objection while simultaneously signalling to the kids to keep quiet from agreeing any further with your declaration. “Absolutely not.”

Clenching your jaw at his immediate dismissal, your voice raises ever so slightly. “We’re supposed to protect them Steve.” 

He almost scoffs at your words, because how could bringing the kids into the most dangerous place they could go, possibly be classified as protecting them? That sounds like pure ludicrous, the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to be doing. But then you say something that somehow makes sense to him. And for a moment, it has him rethinking everything.

“All of them.”

It’s Mike’s added assertion that seals it for him, his voice stern and steady. “That includes El.” He says, lips pulling into a tight line.

Steve doesn’t know this El girl very well, only having just met her a few hours ago, but already, she means a lot to him. Because she clearly means so much to everyone else. By proxy, that makes her important in Steve Harrington’s world.

“We can’t sit here and let her get hurt,” Max’s eyes shine with tears, gaze pleading with him, “especially if we know we can help her.” It’s oddly strange to see her like this. Max doesn’t show emotion at the best of times, let alone the worst, so despite having known her for less time than the rest, Steve is more than aware how much this means to her.

Tilting your head, you lay on the most convincing voice you can, while still maintaining a genuine tone. You don’t want him partaking in something he’s not comfortable doing. But, you suppose, at this point, it’s far past that.

“Steve, I know how risky this is, and I know you’re doing the logical thing, because God knows I’ve been nearly incapable of it” your (e/c) eyes find his brown ones and he can feel himself beginning to give in, “but nothing about this shit is logical.” You can see it in his demeanour that he’s fighting with himself not to give in. “If we have a chance to help her, we have to take it.”

“We have to.” Lucas cuts in.

“C’mon Steve.” Is Dustin’s attempt.

Whether it’s your words that do it, or Mike and Max’s pleadingly puppy dog-like stares, he’s not sure. But in a matter of seconds, his posture is deflating, and a long sigh is released from his lips.

One second passes in anticipation, then two, and lastly three, before:

“Fine.” Steve finally agrees with a huff, realizing he was never going to win this fight. He hears a quiet mumble of victory from Max and notices a quick fist pump she shares with Lucas, but it’s your beaming smile that assures him that he’s made the right decision. You look not only relieved, but genuinely happy, something that Steve wishes he could see more of from you. It’s hard to be happy when it feels like the universe is crumbling at your feet, but it’s nice to see nonetheless.

Grabbing the car keys, he tosses them to you as you lead each of the kids out the door. 

As you usher them out, you lean your head over your shoulder, sending Steve a soft smile, and mouthing a quick thank you to him. You’re grateful, truly.

Wordlessly, he nods. I’d do anything for you, he thinks to himself. He’d give you the world if you asked. Not that you would. You never ask for anything from anyone.

He wishes you’d change your mind on that.

Taking note of the brief moment shared between you two, Dustin hangs back with Steve, eyeing the older teen in amusement. He watches him lock up the Byers’ residence, hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline of it all. Following a few steps behind the rest of the group, Dustin smiles at Steve slyly, his gaze full of mischief.

“Not a word.” Steve warns, the sound of the car engine starting is enough to put a pause to his words. But Dustin doesn’t listen. Since when has he ever?

“You’re so whipped man…” Steve doesn’t deny it as Dustin shakes his head with a smirk. He watches as Steve steps through the passenger side door, a slight grin on his face. 

Muttering to himself as he slides in beside Max, Dustin huffs, “So fucking whipped.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #stranger thing imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagines

[lakesbian]

what do you think a second trigger from alec would look like? both in how it would happen and in how his power would change.

would he be like kephri?

OOH this is an interesting one thank you. you guys gotta stop giving me alec questions (do not stop giving me alec questions) i will never read pact efficiently at this rate.

alright so second triggers need to mimic the circumstances of the original trigger event, like how both times brian triggers from not feeling/being strong enough to protect a loved one. i haven't quite figured out how to structure my essay explaining what i think the general premise of alec's trigger event was yet so you're just going to have to Trust My Autistic Expertise when i say that he triggered because he either very desperately wanted or outright asked for help/protection from heartbreaker from someone (possibly a sibling) and was ignored. so what that translates to in abstract is "lifelong isolation & terror w/ no one ever stepping in to help despite many people watching the abuse happen culminating in betrayal and abandonment at his weakest point, leaving him with the devastating realization that he truly is entirely alone in the world and no one will ever care enough to help him if they're not forced." w/ the added details that the source of fear and the source of betrayal are both extremely personal and well-known to alec. subsequently a second trigger would be very unlikely, because it would necessitate 1. alec being scared of and unable to defend himself from a specific known threat (tall order, he's bad at being scared of things now) 2. that known threat persistently attempting to hurt him specifically (tall order, no one gives a shit about regent) and 3. the undersiders being his last line of defense and then callously leaving him when he needs them (they would not fucking do that i joke about them leaving him in a bassinet outside PRT headquarters but they would not fucking do that).

the other thing to note about second triggers is that, in terms of worm's ongoing power/trauma metaphor, they're what happen when your coping mechanisms aren't enough. brian's initial power is him putting up a big scary front to hide the vulnerability and fear that's keeping him from doing what he thinks is his job and protecting aisha--and then when it's not enough to keep bonesaw from seeing how weak he is and hurting him even worse, when it's not enough to help him protect taylor, it shifts. he's already prone to imitating his abuser--the scariest, strongest thing he knows--when he doesn't know how else to keep in control. it's why he's physically violent to rachel to keep her in line, why he tells her that he hates that she's making him acting like what he hates the most. his second trigger takes that and turns it into a superpower: just being scary wasn't enough, so now he can become what he fears and hates, take the powers of the people menacing him & his loved ones and fight back with that power.

so if alec being able to force the people he spends time around to help him doesn't work, if the closest thing to a family he has abandons him anyway, just like when he was a kid, then his power will shift to compensate. it wouldn't be a khepri circumstance--whereas taylor's trauma (& subsequently her power) are focused on isolation and betrayal from society as a whole, the locus of alec's trauma is the family, a much smaller and more personal source of pain. hence why his power is limited to 3-4 people at a time, and why it's capable of such exacting and intimate control. (compare to khepri, who has endless multitasking capability, but poor fine motor skills w/ people she masters--she's focused on frustrations w/ society as a whole and thus moves people in broad sweeps that are most powerful as a crowd, whereas alec is focused on more interpersonal betrayal and thus has more exact control over fewer people.) imagine how he would respond to the team, the only people he has, abandoning him? to aisha, the person he cares about more than his own life, abandoning him? he would have no interest in reaching out to different people in this circumstance, so his power's range wouldn't widen--rather, he would want to be better at holding onto the people he already wants to care about him.

i could see something along the lines of his multitasking abilities degrading even further--maybe down to 1-2 people at once instead of 3-4--and in exchange, he gets the ability to actually start changing people he's controlling. slowly supplanting their desires with what he wants (e.g, for them to want to help him), his power being able to seed auto-piloted future actions or pavlovian responses, people he's controlling slowly feeling more and more positive to him heartbreaker-style, etc. i dunno i'm just throwing out ideas here. don't quite think any of these are perfect but they're in the ballpark.

#ask #parahumans #we got a brian special feature in this one #worm spoilers #scarf don't look

[hope-to-hell]

No light but ours. Travis Hackett x Reader. Smut, angst, way too many ocean metaphors. Sunday supper at the Hackett house. A sudden rainstorm means spending the night in Travis’ childhood bed. You know where this will end up, don’t you?

This was supposed to be a nice lighthearted romp. What the hell happened?

—-

There’s dust drifting in all the unused rooms and dry rot is about to take the north wing, but these rooms are clean and still, little enclaves in a haunted house. This is a fucking haunted house, Travis.

(It’s bones on the seafloor, whalefall half picked-clean)

Shh. His hand is broad and tastes of salt, of copper, of something sharp. You want someone to hear you? His face says don’t you fuckin do it when he takes his hand away and you’ll be good, won’tcha?

He’s gotta watch the way he moves or it’s gonna be so fucking obvious what’s happening here: more obvious than when Sunday supper came along and brought you with it, more obvious than the way he stood on the porch with just that little sliver of himself out in the open and made his introductions: Ma, this is—

You’re late. Supper’s getting cold.

Rain’s bad and getting worse; no way you’re going back out like this and so it’s upstairs to a narrow bed, to faded wallpaper and a draft that’s got you all a-shiver, pulling his shirttails loose to bleed some of the tension out of him and when he runs a thumb over your lips there’s nothing you can do but have just a little taste.

All of this is the leadup, the preface to the moment when he stills at the sound of the bed creaking like trees shattering in winter: gunshot-loud, sharp, disorienting in its suddenness.

Fuck.

There’s nothing quite so eloquent as a man who’s balls-deep and struggling for words, a man who’s half out of his jeans and breathing openmouthed like he’s listening for footsteps on the landing.

(The worms are coming for you, as they come for us all. When all that’s left of you is bones, they’ll leave you lonely.)

Cmon, move— and he’s so goddamned heavy, weighed down by the ghosts within these walls; shadows crawl across his face in tired smears and if this is the cost of these suppers then perhaps he shouldn’t be here, but he is the dutiful son despite it all.

Will you be quiet?

Yeah. Yeah, just. Yeah. The words catch at his skin and trail in strings between you; they pull tight and tug him down for the barest ghost of a kiss. Cmon. I’ve got you. A promise is a promise and he takes it for what it is beneath the breathless wanting: you don’t have to be alone to be lonely. You know I’m here. It’s still a surprise, still makes his brows crawl up his face while he parses it out and finds himself almost believing it.

(Poor bastard, looking through these vast bones, imagining starlight high above)

When he moves again it’s more crawl than thrust: it’s Travis digging deep with all the slowness he can muster and all the patience that, at first, you didn’t think he had.

(Stolen moments at the station: mimeographs and faxes wrinkling under your ass— Jesus, Travis, did you get this stuff back in dinosaur times? Hey, what about a t-rex sending a fax? Please send meat. Stop. Am hungry. Stop.

That’s telegrams, now zip it— but he can’t quite keep a straight face, not even when he threads a hand beneath your shirt.

Sunrise comes and you’re bringing coffee, breathing clouds into the air while you wait for him on the rooftop. He always ends up here when another full moon has come and gone; seems like he’s forgotten what sleep is, and he’s gonna be a grouch all day but he still says thanks in a voice rimed with sand.)

His ass prickles gooseflesh and damn, you’re bending nails trying to catch at his belt; he’s cold and a little bony and this pace isn’t enough to get you off but it is enough for you to whimper and whine

(Needy little thing, aren’t you? He’s playing mean but it’s not til he gets his hand ‘round the back of your neck that something clicks; he says now you’re gonna give me what I want and maybe you say you don’t get on your knees for anyone but this is Travis and he tastes of sweat and salt and musk; he’s gonna smell himself on you later and raise his brows like what are you gonna do about it)

and he gets a hand between you; his thumb is roughly callused, sending sparks all up your spine when he gets it on you just the way you like. He moves like instinct but it’s muscle memory; each time is the culmination of all the times before: of all the gentle corrections, the wordless grasping of his hand as you move it to where you need it most.

(No light but the glow of a predator’s lure)

Travis bears a tension that never bleeds away; it anchors itself to the lines on his forehead and to the long ache down his spine. What he needs is letting go: mindless, thoughtless animal rutting, sweat and bruises, then dropping down into a long dreamless sleep. He needs a vacation from himself, from the constant turning-inward that tears at him every time he reaches out and finds his hand empty.

When he comes it’s like cracks in the sea floor, a long deep groan that’s bitten back hard enough to leave his mouth bloody. He breathes through the comedown, his face pressed into your shoulder; he is all a-quiver and you can’t quite tell—

You alright?

His yeah is a little fuzzy, but it’s hard to think too much about it when he gets his hand back on you; his lips brush across your skin in a pattern of words that he can’t say aloud, at least not yet. But he’s nosing at your cheek til he can swallow down your panting moaning ah, that’s it, don’t stop or I’ll fucking kill you, fuck, you’re laughing, what I—

oh. And with his breath in your lungs, all the world is shattered glass.

(I miss them, he says with his face tilted toward the ceiling, bottle dangling from his hand. Used to be easy. Wish I could remember what it’s like. I see them but there’s oceans between us.)

It’s a tight fit side-by-side in this narrow bed beneath its cross-and-crown quilt; shadows cut him deep to make his face seem old and unknowable. But the arm draped over your side is warm; his body is a bulwark against the powder-dry chill of the room and with your fingers knotted in his undershirt he isn’t going anywhere.

Wonder if it’s still there.

Hm?

Bought a dirty magazine off a friend once. I was too chickenshit to open it and even more scared to throw it away, so I stuck it under the mattress. Did he still jerk off furtively, ears pricked, thinking about what pictures might be inside? Or did he resolutely think of nothing, forcing his thoughts to wrap around the motion of his hand and nothing else?

The world outside is water, rain murmuring all around like the voices of strangers in another room. He watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, body reaching for sleep even as his mind is turning over and over, thoughts and worries and wordless memories filling up the blank spaces left by orgasm. Maybe you can’t fix his troubles, but you can at least keep him company. Keep me warm against the cold and I’ll stand beside you in the dark. Tomorrow you’ll drink coffee and watch rainwater drip from the trees; morning light will paint him gold and strike the shadows from his face.

(There is life even in the depths: flashes of blue light, signals across the vast and silent dark.)

#ted raimi #travis hackett #travis hackett fic #travis hackett smut #travis hackett x reader #travis hackett x you #the quarry #the quarry fic #the quarry smut #my fic