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autolenaphilia · 5 months

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Edit: as hoshi9zoe pointed out, the original version of this post needlessly berated other transfems like Jennifer Coates, for which I do apologize, and I have toned it down in this edited version. The original version survives in reblogs.

Some months ago, I was searching through this transandrobro blog to see if they posted a callout of me, and i found this reblog, which I couldn't really write about for months, because what do I even write. I recently wayback machined it for posterity, and I guess this is my attempt to write a post about it.

It's saint-dyke himself, the coiner of transandrophobia, saying that the infamous (at least for me) article "I am a transwoman. I'm in the closet. I'm not coming out" is what made him coin the fucking word. It's literally bolded and underlined: "Reading this article is what made me coin “transandrophobia”.

The reason I put off writing this post is that reading that article makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. And it is poison, make no mistake, it's internalized transmisogyny brainworms dripping out of the writer's brain and onto the page.

It's a justification for why the author, known by pseudonym Jennifer Coates, doesn't want to transition, despite knowing she is a trans woman. And it's the exact kind of internalized transmisogyny that keeps trans women in repression and not transitioning. "I'm not going to pass, i'm forever going to be an ugly freak who will at best be humored by other women, the closet is uncomfortable but at least it's safe"

It's the same exact bullshit a lot of represssed trans women tell themselves because it's what society tells us about trans women, that we are freakish parodies of women, that we will never pass, and if we don't pass we have failed and are ugly freaks. It's all to scare us into staying in the closet and make others hate and fear us. Transmisogyny permeates our society, and the majority, maybe all transfems will absorb and internalize some of it.

Coates says that it all is just applicable to her, but again so many transfems believe this shit before transitioning and realizing it's a pack of lies. If this bullshit was in any way valid, a lot of trans women shouldn't transition, because before we actually transition many of us believe it word for word. And "it's only true for me" is how we justify it to ourselves. We tend to be way harsher on ourselves than others. This kind of self-hating transfem tends to think: "Other trans women are beautiful graceful goddesses, earthly manifestations of the divine feminine, always destined to be women, while I'm an ugly forever male ogre who just has a fetish."

It's all bullshit, it's poison, it's internalized transmisogyny.

And the rest of the article is bullshit too. It is not some insightful mediation on gender as some people say, it's the author confusing and mixing up actual transmisogyny with an imagined problem of misandry. She does this because she has gone full repression mode, and decided she has no other choice to live as a man, so her dysphoria and experiences of transmisogyny are actually men's problems.

It's a bad article, excusable because as Coatas points out, it's "essentially a diary entry." that was meant to be a way to "vent frustration" and she "did not intend for anyone else to actually read it." It is clearly not the product of a healthy mind.

I hope the author sometime in the past seven years eventually did transition, and that for whatever reason she didn't want to publicly repudiate her own article. Maybe she lost access to the medium account so she can't delete it.

Far worse than the article itself is the response to it. I've seen it passed around as some insightful commentary on gender by the "feminists are too mean to men, misandry is real" crowd. I have argued against this before. And other people have made insightful comments about it.

And learning that saint-dyke claiming that he was inspired to coin the word "transandrophobia" because of this article is the cherry on top of this shitcake of transmisogyny. For my thoughts on "transandrophobia" theory and how transmisogynistic it is, see here.

Of course, Saint-dyke absolutely could be bullshitting here. Claiming that Coates's article is what inspired him to coin the word might be a lie to claim that transandrophobia theory is not transmisogynistic because it came from listening to trans women.

This is why "listen to trans women" doesn't work. Because TME people will always choose a trans woman who confirms their prejudices. Blair White has made an entire career out of this. And Coates article is popular because it says that misandry is real and trans women's issues are partly caused by it, misgendering herself and other trans women.

And it's popular for another reason. Coates has thoroughly internalized transmisogyny, and thus her article presents a trans woman that is exactly as transmisogynistic patriarchal society wants her to be. She is suffering, but ultimately accepts her assigned role. She truly believes that her biological sex dooms her to forever be male. She literally "manages her dysphoria by means other than transition" as conversion therapy advocates want us to do. She never makes an social claim on womanhood by actually transitioning, so she doesn't invade the sacred women's spaces. Yet she performs the role of woman perfectly by serving men, by defending them from supposed feminist misandry. And she fulfils the ritualistic role that the rhetorical figure of "trans women" sometimes serves in progressive spaces, of giving a blessing to TME people's pre-existing views and actions, all while actual flesh-and-blood trans women are destroyed by those same deeply transmisogynistic spaces. This time it's a blessing for the same "misandry is real" soft-MRA bullshit that has infested the online left and created the transandrophobia crowd.

That is why this article and the positive response makes me sick, makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. This is what its fans want trans women to be like. I'm acutely aware this kind of self-denial is exactly what transmisogyny wants from me and tried to indoctrinate me into doing it. And I want none of it. I want to live, I want to be a woman.

#my writings #transmisogyny #jennifer coates #this is a lot more emotional than i usually am #but i'm so angry and disgusted

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nocturna-iv · 4 months

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You're a loser, baby~

I love the level of detail in "Loser, baby" on a narrative level and how much it can tell us about HuskerDust. Husk didn't want to go after Angel; Charlie sent him. But at that moment, when the mask began to fracture, Husk extended his hand to the real Angel.

The smile? Husk has a plan. The kind of plan that involves pure nihilism and stopping self-judgment so Angel knows he's not alone. Husk doesn't need to do this, but he already knows the real Angel (when he's drunk) and likes him. So, Husk is offering the real Angel his company.

Angel is waiting for the typical “everything is going to be fine” talk. How many times has he heard it? Cuddles, hope, and light But Husk surprises him by treating him like an equal, someone who won't break. Obviously, it bothers Angel, and he gets defensive. Is this guy kidding?

The same guy who was annoyed by Angel's presence is now all over him, with the most pretentious smirk in the universe, calling him a LOSER (and baby). Angel is so confused by the turn of events.

So, obviously, Angel thinks Husk is playing with him. His face says it all! And Husk is still all over him, telling Angel the truth.

In this part, Husk shares his insecurities. Yes, there was a time, but the pain is still there. And from what he's gotten to know Angel, Husk feels like they could connect there. “You are not alone” goes both ways.

Husk manages to get Angel to open but does it with sarcasm. At this point, Angel doesn't think anyone is going to accept him as he is. So, he says something that many know: his contract with Valentino, who has a dangerous reputation. That's the opening Husk was looking for.

This part isn't Husk making light of Angel's situation. He's making it clear to Angel that he's not “unique”, that is, he's not alone. His suffering is not something that separates him from others. Husk is breaking into Angel's self-isolation due to his abusive relationship.

Obviously, Angel doesn't believe him. Years of abuse made it clear to him that no one is going to care for the real Angel. But he's indulgent with Husk, playing along, visibly skeptical, wanting to know where this is all going.

And Husk takes him by surprise again. He is gentle, guiding Angel, giving him space, always offering his hand. It's a fun dance for two. They are both losers. Husk isn't insulting him. He is telling him that it's okay to make mistakes. They both have done it.

So Angel decides to trust. Just a little. Because he knows how people react when they know who he is. Angel is barely singing, not fully entering the song.

And when Husk tells him that he's fine with Angel being like that, it's liberating. Angel sings, there is a crack in his voice, because he is having fun! He is not acting, he is being sporadic and exaggerated, almost a parody of his flirtatious mask.

Now it is Angel who seeks out Husk, recognizing him as the one who can understand him and is liberating! And Husk reaches him, reminding Angel that they're in all of this together. And Angel smiles. A big and real smile.

Husk shares his addictions to give Angel the opportunity to share his in a safe space. And now Angel sings with all his potential, being himself and having fun. And Husk reaffirms him. This is Angel, the real Angel that Husk met when Angel was drunk.

And that is the theme of the song. Embrace who you are and don't be ashamed. Take every self-destructive comment, dirty insult, and don't let them sink you. Say "So what?", it's you, you're fine, you're good.

Accept your mistakes, your failures, your flaws, and stop being your own enemy. It's hard to escape, but there is someone who understands you, and you aren't alone. Existence sucks; bite it with a smile!

And that's the point. Things aren't magically going to get better. The problems are not going to disappear. Life sucks, but you're not alone. The burden doesn't disappear, but it may be more bearable.

Angel is the one who comforts Husk, telling him that yes, existing is difficult, but he's not alone. He has him. And for Husk, that's something. The song is about them, after all.

And Husk tells him that maybe he and Angel can be losers and find happiness.

And now it's Angel who offers Husk his hand. Now it's Husk who puts his hand on Angel's. And Angel can't erase his surprise and smile.

Now Angel is the one accompanying Husk. Angel's voice becomes an instrument that follows Husk in harmony. The fun dance of two returns, but Angel includes his style. Husk no longer has to guide him.

They both reach for each other. Husk extends his hand almost at the same time as Angel, with his eyes closed, extends his.

And in the end? They both support each other, literally and symbolically. They are equals. Husk and Angel meeting in the middle. The real Angel being accepted by Husk.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust

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ozzgin · 10 days

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Yandere! Gamer Boyfriend Scenarios

A collection of parodies to satisfy everyone’s desire for a happy ending. Warning: crackhead humor.

Content: gender neutral reader, yandere behavior, brief NSFW, time machine to Wattpad glory days

[First story] [More parodies original works]

Case 1: Third contender

Very few people know about your stepmother. You’d kept it a secret, even from the tentacle monster, who was understandably confused about your boyfriend’s nervousness upon hearing your idea of a family visit.

“Try not to kill each other, please.” You say with pleading eyes.

“I’m more worried about you, (Y/N). Will you be alright?”

You swallow dryly. The evil hag had summoned you earlier this week, and you dare not oppose her. A tear threatens to form in the corner of your eye, so you turn around with a dismissive wave. You’ll be fine.

“I see you already have a suitcase”, the older woman remarks, puffing on her cigarette. “Good. You’ll be leaving today.”

“What? I just got home!” You argue in confusion.

“This isn’t your home anymore. Times are difficult, you see. We’re low on funds.” She ponders her words, then continues. “We’ve sold you to a famous K-pop idol group.”

You can only gawk in shock. Almost simultaneously, you feel a tap on your shoulder and hesitantly look back.

“You must be (Y/N)! Wow, you’re even cuter in person. Those photos I received of you barely do you justice.”

A tall, handsome man with a beaming smile stands behind you. He flashes you a little heart gesture with his index and thumb, and winks.

Is this the power of idol charisma? You can feel the faintest tug at your heart, deep red blush heating up your cheeks.

“I couldn’t possibly…I’m already in a…in a relationship!”

“You’ll be much happier with me. I can offer you the world.”

What a ridiculous situation. You stumble on your words, partly afraid, partly curious about the potential life of luxury as the beloved partner of a famous idol. Can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. You shake your head aggressively. No! You have two people (well, one monster) waiting for you at home. You need to get out of here, but how?

Just as you evaluate escape routes, the door bursts open and you gasp at the sight: your gamer boyfriend, followed by the tentacled creature.

“How did you bypass my security?!” The idol shouts in disbelief. “I have the best engineers in the world working for me!”

The gamer boyfriend smirks defiantly.

“Heh. Wasn’t too hard to hack into your systems, all I needed was my PS5 controller. As for the physical obstacles…” he says, turning to the ancient beast. “You might want to call a cleaning crew for what’s left of your guards.”

You run towards them, and the young man gently guides you behind him.

“Since when do you two get along?” You ask with the sarcasm of a witty Marvel character.

“Let’s just say we figured out a common goal.”

The goal of keeping other people away from you. Any kind of pride he or the monster might've held has been swiftly discarded for this greater purpose. After all, two heads are better than one. Or whatever encephalic organ the creature possesses.

The cherry blossoms sway in the wind, scattering the frail petals across the riverbank.

"It's too much!" you whine, your hot lips brushing against the overgrown grass of the hill, privacy filled to the brim with appendages. "W-what if someone passes by?"

You can't even tilt your head back to look at your aggressors; the weight of the attempted kidnapping was too great for the pair to bear, and thus they were overwhelmed by the urge to reclaim you on the spot. Right there, in the fields, on the way back home.

"I couldn't...care less about that, (Y/N)", the gamer boyfriend manages to blurt out between exhausted, husky growls. His knuckles white from gripping imaginary sheets.

“You belong to us.”

(No slick folds were harmed in the process)

Case 2: Picture frame

The screech slowly dissipates, and the room is quiet again.

Finally. The gamer boyfriend gazes at his masterpiece, a satisfied smile on his face. Now that he's gotten rid of his rival, he can have you all for himself.

“I hope you enjoy the flatness. I didn’t.”

The fight might've lasted longer, had the beast not committed the ultimately fatal mistake of underestimating him. It realized much too late it wasn't dealing with the same human who disappeared months ago. That one was weak and easy to remove.

"Please, what are you-...What are you doing with my body?"

"Relax. I'm just...borrowing it. Permanently, maybe."

Oh, how long he waited for that moment, that instant in which he was guaranteed freedom from the 2D realm. How delicious it was to snatch the escape from the boyfriend who worked so hard for it. All those hours spent romancing the characters, repeating the same dialogue lines again, and again, until the love meter blinked in achievement. And then he stole it, just like that, with a snap of the fingers.

Two things immediately struck him once he made his way out:

First, the third dimension. He'd never experienced such depth before, and all the angles and perspectives sickened him terribly. He spent days bedridden and nauseous. Equally baffling was the fact that conversations were always spontaneous, random, one-of-a-kind and without any subtitles or dialogue box. He tried in vain to reset his response to you, or to replay something you told him. Thankfully, his secret was of such absurdity, that you couldn’t even begin to imagine its possibility. You took his suspicious gaffes with an amused chuckle, calling him a silly goose.

Second, you. He had no idea who you were, but upon laying his eyes on you, a wave of warmth and affection flooded his innards. Were you someone important for the boyfriend? Either way, whatever leftover feeling was left inside the vessel swiftly turned into obsession. You took such great care of him. Guided him through this new world with unconditional kindness. Whatever the boyfriend was to you before, he deserved it more. He was certain of it.

Only one obstacle stood in his way, and he just took care of it.

The entry door unlocks, and you walk in, unsure.

“It’s been days. It always lived here, why would it vanish now?” you sob, shaken by the sudden disappearance of the ancient creature.

“Oh, Darling. Come here”, the gamer boyfriend coos sweetly. “You have me now, don’t you? Am I not enough for you?”

“Of course you are, it’s just…”

You stop in your tracks.

“When did you get this?”

“Today. Do you like it?”

“It’s…nice.”

You stare at the new picture hung in the living room. The ornate frame contours what seems to be an oil painting of a sea monster, tentacles preying out of the water.

It almost looks like it wants to crawl out of the canvas.

“Maybe it just got tired of you.” The boyfriend whistles, approaching you. “But I’ll tell you a secret. I’ll never, ever abandon you.”

“I know, (B/N).” you throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms.

“Who? Ah, right.”

Case 3: Hidden Ending

You sniff and wipe your tears again, filling your satchel with bread. At the very least, it’s good bread. You made the sourdough starter yourself, in the kitchen you renovated with your own hands.

Not anymore.

You button up your patchy peasant robe, glancing back at the couple one final time. Your gamer boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend, is following your movement with melancholic eyes. The tentacle creature is holding him affectionately, its tendrils of darkness wrapped around his small shoulders. The same appendages that lewdly traced your body.

You have been cucked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I…We never meant to hurt you. It’s just…we love each other.” He sheepishly lifts his hand, revealing a ring glowing with ancient, cursed energy of cosmic, long-forgotten springs. “We’re thinking of a tropical honeymoon.”

Your underbaked cinnamon orbs glisten with fresh tears, as thin streams caress your cheeks. No matter. You’ll find a new apartment. You’ll start again. You finish tying the bread satchel around the stick, and throw it over your shoulder.

“I wish you happiness”, you sigh, exiting the house.

#yandere #yandere gamer boyfriend #gamer boyfriend versus tentacle monster #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere meme #yandere parody #yandere imagines #yandere concept

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lucidloving · 4 months

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Here is a familiar picture: a girl surrounded by people she knows opens her mouth and shuts it again, the way one does with a shoe-box of old things that are precious only to the one who owns them. This is a self-imposed silence that emerges from understanding that a braided string, a misshapen crystal, and a blackened eraser stabbed 23 times have no worldly purpose. But with the profound solitude of loving something that no one else loves comes the lifelong necessity of loving that something enough to make up for the solitude. This is an ultimate truth. But most days it will feel like a burden. This is the other ultimate truth.

Sometimes there is a dull pulse in my ears which speaks of the absurdity of gravity: how all things must eventually fall, like apples, like arrow-shot birds, like people who’ve climbed to the top. It is as much a scientific fact as it is a personal doomsday clock (in fact there is a good deal of overlap between the two). But when you bear the responsibility of loving something, you cannot particularly afford to fall. It’s about pride. Or maybe pride is the bandaid-word for shame. Either way, your eraser parodies of Roman dictators are still waiting for you to come home, so come home you must.

But yes, some days, you will not want to come home. For instance, the day you come to the realisation that you exist purely as a convenient concept to most people you know is possibly crushing, depending on the person who inadvertently induces this realisation. Doomsday science pulls you back down to Earth—after years of believing that you’re more than just a figment of other people’s imaginations, your feet finally touch the ground. There is soil caught uncomfortably between your toes. Most people will never know this. In fact, you understand now that most people probably forget you even have toes.

I really believe now that to him, I’ll always be 17 years old, bright in useless ways and clumsy with my mouth and heart and hands. Forgiving to a fault, laughably predictable, and always, always beneath him. And I believe now that to them, I’ll always be a female option before I am my own person. It will never matter to them what I like to read or what keeps me awake at night or what that idiotic crystal meant to me when I was ten. And I believe now that to them, I am just an accommodating, one-dimensional idea attached to a four-syllable word.

They don’t tell you how hard it is to resist throwing out the whole goddamned shoe-box. But you know you’d regret it. Sure, it’s terribly old and it’s kind of musty and useless, but it’s yours. Even if no one gives it a second glance, even if they throw it down and step on it and spit on it, it’s yours. It hurts when they don’t see you as a person. But I am not an idiot who opens her shoe-box to people who don’t want to understand a thing. Closing my mouth is an act of pride, not shame. Precious things should be kept safe for those who love them, and to hell with those that don’t. This is my favourite ultimate truth.

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merakiui · 2 months

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[01] 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁.

villain!azul ashengrotto x magical girl!reader note - welcome to this very impulsive magical girl parody! i'm not sure how many chapters it will be exactly, but i'm looking forward to writing more. i hope you'll enjoy reading! chapter navigation: [01] (you are here) // [02]

Magic is a messy, complex thing.

It can enchant and amaze with beautiful, endless possibilities. It can terrify with traumatic results. Like any sort of power in this world, it is a heavy responsibility for those who wield it. Everything has its dark side; you’re sure the same holds true for magic. No matter how marvelous it may be, surely there exists some shadow.

It’s also something you can’t use, and so the good and the bad don’t really apply to you!

Not that this is cause for envy. Rather, you’re relieved you don’t have to worry about experiencing the problems that accompany magic. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is; magic would only further complicate it. With no other plausible way to return to your world, you’ve had to make your home here on Sage’s Island. It’s an isolated place, boasting two elite magical universities and a bustling town.

It also happens to resemble a chicken wing on maps, so that’s a plus. Truly an ideal getaway! If only you weren’t trapped here indefinitely… Maybe then you’d have better appreciation for it.

As it happens, you’re a janitor living in the abandoned, decrepit dorm on the outskirts of campus. It took a month since you moved in, but you’ve managed to clean it up into a habitable space with the help of its resident haunts. The Headmage hasn’t been very helpful or present since your arrival, and so you’ve had to make do with what little you’ve been given. But for all of his troubling qualities, he isn’t inherently cruel. He’s kind enough to pay you for your services (but then that was only after you threatened him into an agreement), and he doesn’t overwork you (again, this is because you made it abundantly clear you won’t do anything if it violates your own sanity in some way, shape, or form). At least he’s willing to negotiate every time you argue for humane working conditions.

He’s an irksome guy. You can’t believe he has the gall to call himself the ‘embodiment of magnanimity’ when he’s done the bare minimum. Even the ghosts have offered more assistance and they don’t have any sort of authority here! You’re pleased to share a space with them. Sometimes they seem more reliable than the Headmage.

Despite your attempts to acclimate, the illustrious Night Raven College is still a place wholly unsuitable for a magicless human such as yourself. You’re the same age as some of the students here, but they feel like they’re on another level. Flying overhead on brooms, casting spells, mixing up potions… You listen in on some of their conversations while washing windows or sweeping the floors and wonder if all magic schools are this rigorous.

Maybe that’s any school regardless of its curriculum. Any sort of academic pursuit comes with difficulties; that’s normal. But magic is a facet unique to this world. There aren’t any arcane academies where you’re from, but now you wish there were. They seem so fascinating.

“Not much of my problem, though, is it?” you mumble, shaking free of that thought. Being a janitor is great. You can avoid the stress of school and keep up with the gossip exchanged in the halls. It’s like reading the newspaper, only it’s spoken instead of written.

Morning spills through the part in the curtains when you open them. You shut your eyes and bask in the warming glow of a sunshine smooch. It’s going to be another great day—you’re sure of this—and a day as pleasant as this deserves to be lived in its entirety. Perhaps you’ll have a picnic outside or you could even—

BAM.

Your eyes snap open just in time to view the raven who’s slammed itself against the window. Disoriented, it jerks itself up and away from the glass, flapping its wings wildly. You watch its attempts with a pitying frown. And then, inching closer to pull the window open to allow the raven respite, you see it: the blue flames racing towards you at a rapid speed.

With a yelp, you dive out of the way just in time. Due to the forceful blast, the window shatters in a spray of glass. Heat licks at your face, so hot it almost singes your brows, and you stumble to the other side of the room in a panicked daze.

“You lousy bird!” someone exclaims, the words pronounced in a growl. “Get back here so I can nab ya and prove that I’m worthy of bein’ at this school!”

The raven squawks, fluttering wildly about your room. A sleek, obsidian-colored feather floats into your hand. You don’t have time to admire it, for the curtains have just caught fire.

“Come on—I just put those up last week!” you bemoan, looking on in abject horror.

From the opening, a furry creature bursts through. He resembles a grey cat with his short, fluffy stature, but his tail is shaped strangely and there’s blue fire flickering from his ears. The same blue fire he’s currently conjuring in an attempt to catch the raven…

You grab hold of the coat rack—the nearest viable weapon you can think of—and jump in front of him. He startles and leaps back when you swing.

“What’re you doing?! You can’t do that in here! Fuck—my curtains! Don’t light anything else on fire!”

Baffled, the cat-creature scoffs at you. “How was I supposed to know someone’s livin’ in here? Not my fault!”

“It’s a residence! Of course someone lives here! I live here!”

“When they make me the Great Mage Grim, I’ll fix this place up for ya. That’s a promise! I just gotta catch that bird and prove myself a worthy candidate. Just you wait—they’ll be puttin’ my name up in lights!”

“Like hell they will!”

With a devastated groan, you whack the curtains down with the coat rack. They land in a heap, smoke curling from beneath the pile and sliding out the shattered window in dark, wispy tendrils. It takes a frazzled few stomps and smacks before the fire fizzles away, leaving you with charred curtains and the distinct stench of something scorched.

Still panting from the adrenaline rush, you loosen your grip on the coat rack. This is a mess. What am I going to do? I don’t have enough money to fix this!

You turn your hateful scowl on the cat-creature. “You!”

“W-Wait! Wait!” He raises a paw to his lips and gestures towards your bedside table. The raven sits perched, a golden chain wrapped around its neck and an envelope clasped in its beak. In all of the chaos, you must have missed that. “Don’t say a word. It’s right there.”

He approaches stealthily, slow as a sloth, and pounces. He misses narrowly, ending up with a mouthful of feathers instead. The raven caws and takes flight, circling overhead.

He spits feathers. “Myahaha! I got it! I actually—oh. Dumb bird… No one can escape the Great Grim.”

The raven lands on your shoulder next. It cocks its head at you.

“What? Is this for me?” you ask, even though you’re certain of the answer. You pluck the envelope from the raven, who sets to preening itself now that it’s no longer occupied.

“Give it here!” The cat-creature hops up onto your bed, reaching with an expectant paw. “That bird’s got my admission letter!”

“Your letter?” You hold it out of reach and stick your tongue out at him. “No ‘great mage’ sets someone’s home on fire. You’re a subpar mage, if anything.”

“I am not! You just wait—I’ll show you!”

“I don’t want to see anymore.” Turning away, you break the wax seal and procure the parchment waiting within.

He swipes at you impatiently. “Lemme see! What’s it say?”

Written in elegant script, complete with a stamp you’ve never seen before, it looks very official. Whoever wrote it is exceptionally good at cursive, their letters swooping together seamlessly. It’s almost like a decorative artwork with its double-looped O’s and dancing cursive. You marvel at the craftsmanship, wishing your handwriting could look as refined as this person’s.

To whom it may concern, Greetings and congratulations on your admittance into the program! We recognize your outstanding achievements as a model student and believe you have what it takes to do wonderful things. It is with great pride that we bestow upon you a piece of magical history, referred to as The Tried-and-True Trident. You will find it enclosed in this letter.

You look up from the letter just as an aureate necklace lands in your palm. The raven blinks at you once before lifting itself off of your shoulder with a flap of its inky wings. It departs through the window, up into the cloudless, cerulean sky, in a flurry of feathers. There’s a tiny trident pendant hanging from the chain. It winks at you in the light, so shiny you think you might catch your reflection if you stare long enough. You’re not sure what part of it is tried or true, for it looks more like costume jewelry than anything. At least it’s cute. Kind of fashionable, even.

With this historic piece, you are now free to wield the wonders of the sea as you please. You are expected to use these powers to defend those you hold dear from the threat of tragedy. You should have met with your mentor already. If not, we shall send someone to escort you. We look forward to beholding your excellent heroics. Sincerely,

“Gimme that!”

Grim snatches the letter before you can glimpse the name signed at the bottom. The enchanted letter tears in two and then, before both of your eyes, it promptly disintegrates.

You eye the fuzzball with a fresh bout of vitriol. “What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Grim—the Great Grim—and I promise ya as soon as I—”

“Good. Now I know what name to carve on your tombstone when I put you in the ground for ruining my letter!” You reach for the coat rack, expression ablaze with newfound ferocity.

Grim yelps and scurries away. “H-Hold on! I can fix it!”

“How? It’s ash!”

“Well, what did it say? I’m sure I can explain it to ya!”

“It said something about this necklace. The something-something trident. Protecting loved ones from tragedy. Admittance into some program. A mentor…”

“Mentor… Mentor! Yeah, that sounds about right!” Grim laughs proudly. “Aren’t you in luck, human! I’m gonna be your mentor.”

“Sure you are.” You rest your hand on your hip, brows raised. “The same cat who destroyed my window and curtains is gonna mentor me in whatever this is. Funny story.”

His jaw drops. “A-At least pretend like it’s cool! And I’m not a cat!” He hops off of your bed with a huff. “Ungrateful human. You’re undeserving of the Great Grim’s teaching anyways! I don’t need you!”

“Other way around.”

“You don’t need me!”

“There we go.” You applaud him sardonically. “Look, I don’t know what any of this is. I’m sure it was a mistake. I’m not even a student here.”

Grim, who had been on his way towards the door, halts. He turns to face you slowly. “Yer…not a student?”

“I work here. There’s no way for me to be enrolled here because I can’t use magic.”

“W-Wha—can’t use magic?! Then why did you get in, but I didn’t?!”

You can only shrug. The necklace twists idly when you hold it up for closer inspection. “So this thing is supposed to help me? Hey, Grim, do you know what this is?”

You lower to his height and hold your hand out. He watches you dubiously before approaching and leaning in to sniff at the chain.

“Smells fine to me. Kinda like wet metal.”

“I didn’t ask for a flavor profile.” You heave a tired sigh. The day’s only just begun and you’re already swamped with nonsense. “Maybe that Headmage knows something.”

Grim gasps. “You’re chummy with the Headmage? You think you could talk him into lettin’ me join?”

“Why do you even want in so badly?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a renowned mage! They should be begging me to join!”

Anyone could’ve sent that letter. It might not even be from the Headmage… If I knew the sender’s name, I could just track them down and ask them.

“You said you wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you?” You offer your hand again, this time to shake on it. “Become my mentor. That’ll show that Crowley you’re plenty capable. Then you can get into this school and I can find a way to return this necklace to its rightful owner.”

Grim folds his arms over his chest, avoiding your hand like it’s the plague. “And what’s in it for me? My services aren’t cheap, y’know!”

“You can live here with me. I’ll find ways to sneak you into the lecture halls if you wanna sit in and observe the class.”

“How about food?”

“Food is…” Nonexistent, really. That cheapskate Crowley! I’ve got to talk him into raising my pay. “I get paid at the end of this week. We’ll have to survive off of what’s in the fridge and the lunch I’m allowed to get from the cafeteria for now.”

Grim’s features soften. “Hm… I guess it’s not terrible. Could be better. But all great mages start from humble beginnings—including myself, but you’d never be able to guess!”

“Right…”

With how carelessly you tossed that fire around, you’re the last mage I should be partnering with.

“Do we have a deal, Grim? You’ll be my mentor and I’ll help you wherever I can.”

Grim places his paw in your palm, his chest puffed out. “You’d better start callin’ me Teacher!”

A smile strains on your lips. “Not happening.”

With a firm shake, your pact is made.

“So what spells do you know? Any that might be able to fix up a window and some curtains?”

“You don’t need those lame spells! The Great Grim can do plenty of other amazing feats.”

“Like?”

“Very amazing feats. Didn’t you hear me?”

“You don’t know anything, do you?”

Grim flinches, guilt flashing across his countenance.

“Is blue fire all you can summon?”

“I… I can do much more! This is just a fraction of my true power! If I had a magestone, this whole spell business would be a lot easier.”

“A magestone? Ah, those things the students have on their pens? I guess that would be helpful. Where can we get one, though?”

“I’d tell ya if I knew.”

“The library might know. If we head there now, we can spend the rest of the morning researching and then we can get lunch.” You reach to fasten the chain around your neck. It’s tucked under your shirt next, safe and sound. “Wait outside for a minute. I’ll change out of my pajamas, clean up the window, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Grim trots out the door without resistance. “I’ll grab a snack from the fridge while yer doin’ all that stuff.”

“One snack! Don’t eat everything!”

But he’s already bounding away, singing as he goes: “Free eats can’t be beat!” Sighing, you shut the door and turn to assess the state of your bedroom. It could be worse. Your bed could have been damaged, or you could have sustained quite the nasty burn.

One mess at a time.

You change into your uniform, which is really just a PE jumpsuit. The same one the students wear. This one has seen better days and it’s a size too big on you, but it’s all Crowley claimed to have on hand when you asked about work clothes. Once again, you soothe yourself with your favorite adage: It could be worse.

You could be homeless. You could be starving. You could be dead.

So it’s not so bad to wear the spare. It’s still got the dorm patch and class numbers sewn onto it, albeit both have worn considerably. Your eyes are drawn to them as you admire yourself in the mirror. Octavinelle Dorm… You’ve heard there are seven dormitories at this school, each based on a historical figure and representing the various spirits of these people. The sorting at the entrance ceremony was something special for the incoming first-years. You’d felt a little awkward to disturb such a grand occasion, even more so when the Dark Mirror announced to a hall full of talented mages that there isn’t an iota of magic in you.

Quite the humbling experience.

But sometimes you wonder which dorm the Dark Mirror would have chosen if your soul was bursting with magical capability.

As of now you’re a faux member of Octavinelle—whatever that implies.

By the time you’ve managed to sweep the glass, dispose of the ruined curtains, and patch the window with a temporary placeholder—what a relief for pasteboard and masking tape—Grim’s nearly through the few items left in your fridge. You yank him away just as he reaches for a container of leftovers.

“If you eat too much, you’ll spoil your lunch.”

“Can’t imagine that problem.”

“You sound so proud of your bottomless stomach.”

“And you’re not?”

You roll your eyes and tug your sneakers on. “Let’s be off.”

“How’re we gonna sneak me in?”

“How do you feel about becoming my temporary purse pet?”

Grim looks unimpressed when you hold your tote bag open for him. “No way!”

“It has lots of space and it’s stylish. Besides, shouldn’t your dedicated student pay proper respect to her great, glorious mentor?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his approving smirk. “Well, when ya put it like that…”

After Grim clambers into your bag, you lock the front door behind you and set off for campus.

“Please don’t blow our cover, Grim.”

From within the depths of your tote, he scoffs. “The Great Grim is the stealthiest mage you’ll ever meet!”

“I highly doubt that.”

It’s the second time you’ve found yourself in the library, but it’s still just as impressive as ever. You could spend hours here, wandering between shelves and skimming all sorts of tomes. Some of them are written in languages you can’t decipher, so you observe the pictures provided in hopes of gleaning any clues. Grim lounges on a chair beside you, absentmindedly turning through a thick textbook. You managed to find a relatively isolated corner in the very back and it’s not especially busy today. The promise of a hearty lunch keeps him well-behaved.

“Find anything?”

“Nothin’ important. Ugh. This stuff is the worst! Why can’t a magestone fall from the sky? That’d be a whole lot easier than this.”

“It sucks, yeah, but what else can we do?” You rest your face against your palm and scan through yet another page of information. “Let’s keep looking. I’m sure we’ll find something useful.”

“Nngh… I’m hungry.”

“You just ate.”

“That was hours ago!”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Feels like it.”

You lean back in your chair and stretch, listening to the satisfying snap of your joints as they crack into place. “Can you understand any of these words?”

“Most of ’em.”

You point to a specific place in the paragraph. “Can you tell me what this one means? I think I’ve got the general idea based on the graphics, but I could be wrong.”

Grim glances at it, his blue hues waltzing across the page. “It’s about merfolk.”

“Merfolk? They exist in this world?” And then you pause to gather your delayed thoughts. “Never mind. That would make sense.”

“What about ’em?”

“Where I’m from, merfolk aren’t real. They’re fiction.”

“Huh. A place without any merfolk… Bet they don’t have anyone like me either. I’m one of a kind!” Grim chuckles. “So where’re you from?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. You usher Grim under the table, who goes but not without protest. He ducks under just in time, hiding within the shadows. A student rounds the corner and stops short when he sees you. He’s holding a few books in his arms, each looking more heavy than the last.

“Ah,” the both of you say in unison.

He clears his throat and offers you a cordial nod. “I wasn’t aware someone had already claimed this corner.”

You eye him carefully. He looks familiar. Glasses. Silvery-grey hair. Blue eyes. Where have you seen him before?

“It’s all yours. I was just leaving.” You move to stand, but he steps closer.

He peers at the open textbook lying in front of you. A smile you can’t quite classify as friendly spreads on his lips. “Is that so? You seem especially engrossed in this book.”

“I like to stay educated.”

I genuinely can’t understand a word in this text.

“On the anatomy of merfolk?”

You shut your mouth at once. That’s what this is? No wonder the diagrams looked…unique. But you’re too committed to your story to falter now.

“Especially the anatomy of merfolk.”

The student chuckles, but it sounds hollow to your ears. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. You’re in Octavinelle?”

You gape at him like a fish out of water before realizing the jumpsuit and its patch. “Oh! Ohhh, no, not at all. This is an old uniform.”

He looks at you with more scrutiny until it clicks. “I remember now. You’re the magicless girl who so carelessly interrupted—ah, forgive me—fortuitously appeared during the entrance ceremony last month.”

What a little fake. You narrow your eyes at him, suddenly defensive. Now you’re made aware of who he is. He was one of the few in the audience during your awkward arrival. Back then, he was clad in a robe with his hood up and so you only caught sight of his glasses and the swoop of his silvery-grey hair peeking out. You’re certain this is the same guy. You could’ve said that without the backhanded barb.

“So my reputation precedes me.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I disagree. You’re still quite the mystery.”

“Well, there’s nothing to solve.” You rise from your seat, reaching for your bag. “I’m just a janitor trying to get by.”

He hums. You can’t decipher the meaning in that, but you don’t particularly care enough to drive yourself mad over it. You feel around on the chair for Grim. He was just here a moment ago…

You drop to your knees to check under the table. Your heart plummets into your stomach.

Grim, you had one job!

“Is something the matter?”

You pop up from beneath the table so fast that your head knocks into it. “Shit! Ow! Yeah, no, I’m fine. I thought I dropped my pencil.”

You scan the rest of the space as discreetly as you can. The student watches you. You don’t like the way he seems to stare through you as if intending to gain access to your very soul. As if he sees something you don’t.

“Have a wonderful day. Study hard. Pass your tests. Get—uh—the scholarship or whatever.”

Flashing him your most nonchalant grin, you make your way down the aisle at a pace that is the exact opposite of relaxed. There’s no time to dwell on that off-kilter exchange. You’ve got a runaway cat-creature in dire need of capture!

The one day I take off and it’s the day my window’s ruined, I get a weird letter, and my new roommate is missing. That’s horrible luck!

You walk briskly through the library, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Grim couldn’t have gotten far. You were only distracted for a few minutes, and the library is huge. Perhaps he’s just lost and waiting in place for you to find him. For some reason you can’t fool yourself into believing this train of thought.

Your search takes you out of the library and down the hall. Where could he have possibly gone? Surely he didn’t make his way back to Ramshackle. You check the time on your watch. It’s almost lunch.

Lunch! Of course!

You hurry towards the cafeteria with rekindled purpose.

I’m going to start calling him Gluttonous Mage Grim if he makes this a habit!

Fortunately, Grim is predictable. You’ve only known him for a day—not even—but it’s not so difficult to pinpoint his location after you’ve worked out his motivations. Unfortunately, you make it to the cafeteria just as the grand chandelier falls from its support in the ceiling, crash-landing in a broken heap. And standing just feet away from the damage, looking very guilty, is Grim alongside two students you’ve never seen before. Crowley’s there as well, just as frazzled as the feathers on his coat. He’s in the middle of lecturing them about the importance of this relic—how it’s been with the school since it was founded and it’s an irreplaceable piece that would cost over a billion Madol to fix—when he takes notice of you.

“(Name), it’s devastating! A most heart-wrenching tragedy! Why, it’s enough to bring one to tears.”

“Seems so…” You shoot Grim a vicious look. So much for being covert. Not so stealthy now, huh? “I’ll get the broom.”

“No, not yet. These three—” he turns towards them, yellow eyes fierce— “are expelled!”

“Expelled?!” the navy-haired student exclaims. He looks like he’s just stared Death in the face. “This can’t be… What will my mother think? I promised her I was gonna get good grades, attend all of my classes, pass my tests…”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. That hairball’s the one who started it!” the other argues, his arms folded over his chest.

“No way! It wasn’t me!”

Crowley clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable. This school has zero tolerance for blatant tomfoolery. Surely you’re all aware…” He pauses to look at Grim. “And you! You’re not even a student here! Just what are you doing, trespassing on school property?”

Grim flounders dizzily. “Spinning…”

“He’s my roommate.” All eyes flick towards you. “I’m letting him stay for now. Sorry if that breaks any rules. I just don’t believe in turning others away, even if they’re prone to causing trouble.”

“What a noble soul,” Crowley murmurs, impressed. “Well, if that’s the case, seeing as he’s nothing more than a talking pet cat—”

“I ain’t a pet or a cat!”

“I’m afraid my previous statement still remains in place. He’s not to be on school grounds.”

“You heard the Headmage. No school for you.”

But Grim’s already lying flat on the floor like a defeated pancake.

“Then what about us? That hairball can’t get the easy way out and leave us with the worst of it!”

“There’s a way to fix this, isn’t there?”

“Y-Yeah! Can’t you just use magic to fix it right up? It’ll be good as new. Someone with your skill should be able to do it.”

Crowley shakes his head, mournful. “Magic is not limitless. Not only that, but the magestone powering this great chandelier is cracked. And those are not so easily replaced. I fear this is the final day this miraculous chandelier will ever grace this grand hall with its light.”

The ginger-haired student grimaces. “Not good…”

The other withers. “Expelled… What am I going to do? I can’t go back home with this news!”

A magestone… That’s what Grim needs. You glance at the one set into the chandelier. A ghastly crack runs up the surface. Are they really that special?

Before both can succumb to their melancholy, Crowley says, “There is one way! Possibly…”

“Really? What is it?” they say at once, eyes bulging with hope.

“This very magestone was mined from the Dwarfs’ Mine. Perhaps, should you procure one of similar qualities, the chandelier can be repaired.”

“Then… Okay! I’ll get a magestone! As long as it’s all right with you, sir.”

“Ah, but the mines have been closed for some time. I reckon the magestones are all but gone.”

“I’m sure I can find one. Please, sir, I’ll do anything to stay here!”

Crowley seems to consider this. Eventually, he nods his approval. “I’m willing to postpone your expulsion for now.” The navy-haired student’s relief is short-lived when he adds, “However, if you fail to bring a magestone to me by the first rays of the morning sun, it will be expulsion for the both of you. No further exceptions.”

With a hasty nod, he says, “Of course! I understand! Thank you so much for the second chance. I won’t let you down!”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

You gather an unconscious Grim in your arms while Crowley instructs the students on how to access the mine. They stride off with different degrees of enthusiasm. You open your mouth to ask permission, but Crowley beats you to it.

“Please do accompany them. I trust you’re responsible enough to handle any trouble?”

“If you raise my pay, I’ll do anything.”

He clutches his chest. “Your proclivity to bargain strikes through to my very soul! Ah, but since I am the kindest Headmage I shall grant your request.”

With a satisfied grin, you hold Grim tighter and run off after the pair. “Thanks again, Headmage!”

You follow them all the way to the Mirror Chamber. It’s just as imposing as you recall, but there’s a serene quality to the space that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s because you’re here willingly and there isn’t an audience to witness your poorly timed debut.

You approach both of them. “Hey! Sorry to bother, but could I join you?”

They turn to look at you. Grim shifts in your arms, groaning.

“I don’t see why not. Welcome to the team,” the navy-haired student says with an awkward smile.

“Might as well. More people means a faster chance at finding that magestone.” He points at Grim next. “And he better be coming, too.”

“That’s the plan. I’ll make sure he won’t cause any problems for you.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Today’s just not my day. What bad luck…”

“No time to sulk. We’ve gotta get that magestone,” the other says, turning towards the mirror. “Dark Mirror, the Dwarfs’ Mine!”

Grim jerks awake then. “Myaah?! Where am I? What’s goin’ on?”

You hold onto him tightly, preventing him from squirming out of your arms. “Relax. You’ll be fine. I think.”

“What d’ya mean by that?!”

The Dark Mirror brightens with life. There’s a blinding flash of light and then, just like that, you’re taken to the mine’s entrance.

Magestone, here we come!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #marvelous marine magic: sweet sea sorceress #3M:3S #3M:3S chapter one

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colleendoran · 1 year

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The Secret Language of a Page of Chivalry: The Pre-Raphaelite Connection

Adapting Neil Gaiman’s Chivalry is a decades-long dream fulfilled. The story as text can be enjoyed on multiple levels, and so can the art. You look at the pages and see the pretty pictures, but the pictures also have meta-textual meaning. Knowing this secret language adds to the experience.

Some people pick up the references quickly, but I’ll share with you some more of what’s going on under the surface.

In Ye Olden Days of Art Making, most painters made pictures that contained visual narrative cues. Flowers in a picture might be heraldic signs that signaled political affiliations, or could indicate purity, anger, or love. Purple was the color of kings. A dog in a picture might represent faithfulness, and butterflies could represent the soul.

There are Pre-Raphaelite paintings with so many symbols and ideas in them that you need a deep working knowledge of Victorian and Edwardian social mores to understand what’s going on.

For example, Ford Madox Brown’s Work, a painting which took some 13 years to complete, was first exhibited in 1865 with a catalogue explaining all its symbols and elements. There is nothing in that picture that doesn’t mean something.

I brought some of that visual meta-textual sensibility to Chivalry, (and I’ve written about the symbolism and meanings in the work in other essays.)

I also brought into the work direct Pre-Raphaelite art references.

From 1868-1870, Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones created four paintings illuminating the tale of Pygmalion and Galatea, entitled Pygmalion and the Image, and wrote a poem with each line titling one painting:

The heart desires

The hand refrains

The godhead fires

The soul attains.

A perfect little poem for Chivalry, and I think of it often when some people present me with what I think is a very strange question: why didn’t Galaad just take the Holy Grail from Mrs. Whitaker?

It kind of breaks my heart that people would even ask that.

Burne-Jones painted two versions of this series of which this is the second.

In the first panel of this page, Sir Galaad kneeling before the Grail is derived from the figure of Pygmalion kneeling before Galatea: The Soul Attains.

Sir Galaad’s restraint even in the face of his greatest desire makes him worthy of his prize.

There are two Pre-Raphalite references in this page, the most obvious being in panel 2: it’s Sir John Everett Millais’s 1857 work A Dream of the Past: Sir Isumbras at the Ford.

The painting was very poorly received on first exhibition, compelling Millais to redo significant portions of it. It was caricatured and ridiculed, and then ended up becoming influential and popular, and isn’t that the way it goes.

That’s an art career in a nutshell, really.

The Sir Isumbras image also influenced John Tenniel’s illustrations for the Lewis Carroll Alice in Wonderland novels.

Sir Isumbras derives from a 13th century Medieval romance poem about a good knight whose pride causes him to fail in his Christian duty. He is presented with a series of difficult challenges before he can find happiness again, reunite with his family, and be forgiven his sins. The painting by Millais is based less explicitly on the poem than it is on a later parody of the poem. (It’s complicated.)

My using Sir Isumbras as the base for the shot of Galaad with the children is obvious here. In the Millais painting, Sir Isumbras carries a woodcutter’s children across the ford. In Chivalry, Sir Galaad carries the children of Mrs. Whitaker’s neighborhood down the street.

While Sir Isumbras spent many years learning humility and Christian duty, Galaad has a long quest to fulfill before he can achieve his goal. And on the way to that goal, he’s humble and nice to children, too.

That the Millais painting was such a huge influence on many a depiction of knighthood over the years made it a perfect reference point here, and the story behind both the painting and the poem give it further layers of meaning.

The next panel has a far less obvious reference, but the source is Arthur Hughes’s painting The Rescue.

Arthur Hughes is one of the lesser-known Pre-Raphaelites, but his art is widely seen and influential. He’s certainly been a big influence on me, as many of his paintings appear again and again in Arthuriana references, as he was a prolific King Arthur picture tale teller.

The Rescue (1907-1908) was originally part of a diptych which was separated and sold back in the 1920’s. His style was becoming unpopular by the time Hughes painted the work, and little is known about this work except that one panel was in the collection of Andrew Lloyd Webber at some point. Maybe still is. Dunno.

Anyway, the diptych depicts a little child kneeling in prayer menaced by a dragon in one panel, and in the next, safely trotting away with a knight on horseback. I like that this is a diptych, a kind of proto-comic art form common in medieval religious art, so this was perfect to use here.

Another reference to Arthur Hughes is in this double page splash from later in the book as Galaad on his quest encounters the Hesperides.

I didn’t set out to reference this Arthur Hughes piece at first, but it’s one of my favorite paintings. When I realized my sketches for this scene kept echoing the Hughes composition, I went with it. The Hughes painting of Galahad is one of the most famous depictions of the character, so it makes me happy to have this referenced in Chivalry.

Kindly ask for CHIVALRY, published by Dark Horse Comics in the USA and by Headline Books in the UK at your local comic shops or bookstore. Written by Neil Gaiman. Adaptation and art by me.

For further reading on this project, go HERE.

HERE.

And HERE.

Thank you to my Patreon patrons for sponsoring my work and this post.

Colleen Doran Illustrates Neil Gaiman will be a solo exhibit at the Society of Illustrators in New York City this spring. Watch this space for updates.

Have a wonderful holiday season.

#neil gaiman #dark horse comics #king arthur #Sir Galahad #Comics #graphic novel #fantasy graphic novel #watercolor #pre raphaelite #pre raphaelism

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lesbopallascat · 11 months

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skizzisms list bc i felt like making a list (still adding on regularly so make sure to check og post if youre using this as a reference or something)

boat -> butt

okay? -> mmguh

flak -> static

DNR -> dinner roll

super dupe pooper scoop

get out of here you piece of JUNK!!!!!

[movie/song/tv show reference] whats that from 😏☺️

singing randomly

ooohuhuhu….ooo…

wuoh

nooch!

nooch. snoogins.

hup + bop (note that bop is mostly an impulseism but skizz has picked it up too)

you can bop if you so choose

saying single words/short sentences in a very abrupt way sometimes

jerk!

nicknames! eg: dipple dop, (tango) top, etc

mister doctor professor [name]

yeah babyy!

(high pitched voice effect) kevin bubbles malone refrigerator jimmy madeye dugan mug

messing with his poker chips while he talks

you’re amazing!

hungy dungy wungy chunky monkey

not an -ism but definitely a skizz thing: skompass (skizzleman compass) aka single blocks with torches on them that act like a breadcrumb trail

do/say x with my/your face

alriiight!

come on cletus

that’s what i’m talking about or that’s what i’m talking aboot

that’s for true

ah poopy :(

stop messing around (after messing around himself)

not really as common i think but sometimes he’ll put something in basic terms, and then say some variation of “but let me explain”/“what I mean by that is”/etc. (e.g. “Tango…you are such a perfectionist, but let me expand on this:…” in this stream)

there’s your thumbnail!

do you Need to take a Poopy. (phasmo)

(to the tune of “when the moon hits your eye…”) THAT’s moroiii (phasmo)

prreow. brrow (meowing. kind of.)

CRIT!!!!!!

makinabaaaabyyy

hi. how you doin'.

calling wardens "warden g"

you're amazing!

what's up!!

Ghoulie ghosty come out to play

(mimicking grian using the spirit box) are you heeyah

___ for a tick

you're not watching

im gonna leave that/leave it! (when he holds back on the opportunity to make a dirty joke)

___ is top shelf

combining two sentences into one longer sentence by just removing the pause for a period and continuing in the same cadence

Additions from notes:

random sounds while thinking (ex: lethr lethr lethr lethr)

What’s that gonna do?

great question newman!

in addition to “what’s that from”, Name it!

homie buddeh

“The Skizz”

HUYEAYUH/making faces along with that and other stream sfx

thats the first time in human history anyone has said that

in addition to you can bop if you so choose, singing the actual you can bop if you want to safety dance parody

mmmbye

(fns) you’re legit/are you legit?

(fns) come on knock on our doooor we’ll be waitin’ for youuu (in vc to bug the imposter) (part of the random singing point)

(fns) ope! crewmate again!

(fns) make-sure-to-eat-fruit (doing simon says)

DANGIIIIIT

what im gonnna dooo….

num-a-nums

well i Did/Am.

show me [item] salad!

the face he makes where his eyes go really wide and he tucks his chin in and stares

calling people he finds cool "cats"

referring to his face as his handsome mug

will sometimes not actually make his point yet before adding "you know what i mean?" as if there was a meaning to be had

claims he would never do something to someone that they did to him, despite the fact that he had or would do exactly that

lmk if i missed anything and i can add it Smile emoji

#skizzleman #i love paying attention to certain quirks and mannerisms that people have #skizzisms #skizzisms list #<- for finding easier

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 29 days

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04/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika; Samson Kayo; Kay Buchanan; Nathan Foad; Watch parties; GLAAD LAST DAYS; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika.

== David Jenkins ==

Okay so I apologize all-- somehow I missed that all the David Jenkins pics going around were NEW. I don't know why but I thought they were from a while back. My taxes brain really has me messed up. So these are from the past 2-4 days. Now it makes a lot of sense too as to why everyone's been honking louder! You can see him there at WB Studios, and yes that is him with OFMD fan-stickers on his laptop.

Source: Kinga Malisz' IG

== Taika Waititi ==

A small glimpse of Taika and his ginormous doe eyes on the set of Klara and The Sun. Src: Vas J Morgan's IG

== Samson Kayo ==

Samson was out in Abu Dhabi U.A.E sporting his Prada Sun Glasses! Chaos Dad and Samba happened to pop into his comments as well! Thanks @ashes-skye for pointing out these great photos! SRC: Samson's Instagram

== Kay Buchanan ==

Our lovely leatherworker Kay Buchanan posted lots of cool things today on her instagram! Stede's Dagger Sheath

Next up was the Gunpowder Pouches for OFMD

== Nathan Foad ==

Some first shots of Nathan in his role in #LovesLabourLost! Src: Royal Shakespeare Company IG

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Season 1 is done! Season 2 starts tomorrow with Episodes 1 and 2! Join Save OFMD Crew, and @/ iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== LAST CHANCE FOR GLAAD ==

Voting closes in two days, get your votes in while you can! Remember: you can vote more than once. 😉🏴‍☠️

IMG Src: @saveofmdcrewmates

== Fan Spotlight ==

One of our crewmates @/RabinaryCode on youtube has put together this cute Queen Parody for Rhys! Give it a listen if you have some time :) Vocals: @ferventrabbitao3

Lyrics: @tanteclem

youtube

== Cast Cards ==

To quote @melvisik "Tonight is Ian Alda (yup, related to Alan Alda) playing the clerk... reads notes Clark Clerkwell... person who told Stede he's dead "

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you all are having a fresh start to your week. I've heard good news and rough news, so I truly hope if you have good news, it stays that way and if you have bad news, it looks up for you!

I really am so glad to see people clowning though. I know no one wants to get their hopes up, but it's nice to see that kind of energy flowing through the fandom again. We deserve a little treat of hope once in a while and it warms my heart how much people are running with it.

Hope is the dream lovelies. All things spring from hope. Don't give up on it. Even when things feel the worst, hope is what keeps us going. I have so much love for you friends. I know we have our bad days, but I hope you know that no matter what happens me and the crew will send you love. We love sharing this space with you. Rest well lovelies. Some quotes about hope tonight:

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience." - Emily Dickinson

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Sorry, tonight's theme is just... this interview because every time I see it it makes me smile so horrendously huge. I love them so much and certainly together like this. The goofy bastards. Gif Courtesy of @captain-flint

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #david jenkins #chaos dad #samson kayo #ofmd bts #kay buchanan #nathan foad #watch parties

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smytherines · 2 months

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The wild thing about SAF is that it's a comedy spy parody musical from eight years ago, but people (including me) really have the most elaborate headcanons for these characters and are so invested in them, because they're not Good Representation for Fine Upstanding LGBTQ+ Youths, it's compelling representation for weird messy queer people.

Like I don't know if I'm expressing this well, but we're only able to have this kind of weird deep conversation about the meanings behind the gay comedy spy parody musical because these aren't sanitized characters.

One of them does absolutely nothing wrong to deserve the massively horrible thing that happens to him, gets hurt by the man he loves, gets abandoned. But he also tortures and kills people. He's canonically the villain, but he's sympathetic.

The other one is kind of an asshole- cocky, careless, jealous, petty. He fucks up big time, but he's also an ADHD himbo who is lovable in ways you can't describe. He's canonically the hero, but there's very much an "Oh, sweetie" vibe to him

And SAF succeeds at having such interesting representation because while the Big Reveal is meant to be a surprise at the end of the show, they layered it in from the opening minutes of the show.

It isn't BUT THEY'RE GAY HAHA, it's relying on our understanding of the rules of the spy genre to tell a surprisingly meaningful story. Mary Kate sings it right at the beginning- it's time to get the girl again. The reveal works because it plays against what you know, what you expect from this genre, so wonderfully.

And it also isn't Here Are Two Flawless Gays Please Do You Like Them?? It isn't PR. It isn't representation for the sake of representation. Being gay is not the only thing we know about them. And because the reveal doesn't happen until the end, it's arguably not even the most important thing we know about them.

It's just two kinda fucked up guys who might have been great together, but who lived in an era and especially worked in a profession where they had little realistic prospect of making anything work in the long term.

Who probably had a lot of shit on their shoulders from having to hide who they are their entire lives, growing up in wartime, and maybe even being neurodivergent. There's so much room to use our knowledge of the real world during this time period to flesh out these characters in a way the musical just doesn't have time to do.

And once you rewatch the show with the context of the Big Gay Reveal, it actually colors in a lot of those traits and interactions in subtle and interesting ways.

And especially knowing that this came out eight years ago, and was created by a tiny little independent theatre company, it's just... thanks, Tin Can Bros. I like your messy gays

#spies are forever #tin can bros #agent curt mega #owen carvour #curtwen #sorry somebody said they were spring cleaning their drafts and i got inspired

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forthegothicheroine · 1 year

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Do you have any gothic novels that you can recommend off the top of your head? Especially to people who want to try their hand at the genre? I've hit a wall in my project and I need to get some fresh inspiration, but I don't know where to start and the book side of tumblr failed me the last time I tried asking them for recs

Hell yeah! I made some old posts for this a while back, but it's good to look at it again with my more recent taste! Let's see...

Classic Gothics

Dracula: The one, the only. Often imitated, never equalled.

Frankenstein: Short, sad and world changing! Can get a little slow at parts, but definitely worth it. (True story, my parents read this to me as a fetus to calm my kicking, so it's part of my personal mythology!)

The Case of Charles Dexter Ward: The most gothic of Lovecraft's work, and possibly my favorite. Novella length, usually found in collections.

The Picture of Dorian Gray: Sinister, sexy, philosophical, with a main character I want to punch in the face!

Carmilla: Another novella, about as lush and swooning as vampire stories get.

The Hound of the Baskervilles: A very readable gothic mystery.

Confessions of a Justified Sinner: This one isn't as action packed, but if you have big religious issues like me, it's incredibly haunting.

The Monk: Like the above, but sleazier and crazier!

Northanger Abbey: A gentle parody of early gothics, starring an adorable proto-goth girl.

The Italian: I'll be honest, I find Anne Radcliffe kind of a slog, but if you liked Northanger Abbey and want to read what Catherine Morland reads, this is probably the most accessible.

A Long Fatal Love Chase: This starts as campy and then takes a plunge into gut-wrenchingly intense. The book Jo March was always trying to write!

The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: Another novella, and Stevenson is one of the best writers out there for excitement!

The Werewolf of Paris: Gothic monster as serial killer, still scary today.

Rebecca: The foundation of all gothic romance to come afterwards. A ghost story without a ghost, with an ending that's still debated as happy or sad!

Jane Eyre: The other foundation of all gothic romance to come afterwards. I bounced off the child abuse-heavy beginning a few times, but I'm very glad I finally read to the good stuff!

The Castle of Otranto: Considered the first gothic novel, a goofy b-movie in written form.

Modern-ish Gothics (post-1950 or so)

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein: Fuck the haters, I love this book.

Mexican Gothic: Genuinely scary, genuinely romantic, genuinely creative. A favorite.

Blackwater: A southern gothic saga of a family in a flooded town, whose scion marries a woman who isn't quite human. A whirlwind ride!

A Bloodsmoor Romance: Another family saga, this one northern gothic, with sisters whose lives all go off the rails in different supernatural ways. Give this a try before writing Joyce Carol Oates off entirely!

The Silver Devil: A nasty, problematic bodice ripper where you'll cheer for the heroine to bring the hero down low!

Interview with the Vampire: To be honest again, I'm not super into Anne Rice, but this is a page-turner, and every vampire book that has come after it has had to respond to it in one way or another. Read the next two Vampire Chronicles books if you like it!

A Taste of Blood Wine: My own preferred sexy vampire romance!

The Bloody Chamber: The ultimate dark sexy fairy tale work, accept no substitutes.

Haunted Castles: Contains the brilliant novella Sardonicus, as well as some other campy gothic stories!

A Great and Terrible Beauty: Many millennials were introduced to the gothic genre via this, Fear Street Sagas, or A Series of Unfortunate Events. This is my favorite of the three, though the sequels are a bit of a letdown.

Gormenghast: This series is a throwback to the pseudo-medieval, Otranto-style gothic, but much better. Don't read Titus Alone.

#books #gothic literature

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r3medialch8os · 9 months

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so since u guys liked that i did this with remedial chaos theory i will now also be doing this for epidemiology.

the most incredible thing about this episode is that it is in fact Not merely an homage like most concept episodes are; it actually happens. a zombie epidemic For Real takes place at greendale. it's not a gimmick or a game or a way to frame the plot. the actual conflict is derived from the fact that people are zombies and the study group need to outrun them/turn them back. how often can you say that a sitcom incorporates a storyline like this and sincerely pulls it off? never.

the emotional tension in this episode is framed around troy/abed/jeff and the dichotomy of being a nerd vs. being cool, which respectively get attributed the qualities of caring about the people around you who have turned into zombies or wanting to run and escape from the zombies without trying to help. abed and jeff's costumes are both pointed out in the beginning receiving clear denotations of 'lame' and 'too cool to care' and therefore their positions in the conflict are cemented. the episode has a push-pull with troy being the moving factor, having to decide what he thinks is most important. he gets swayed in the beginning by two girls rejecting him over his costume and jeff mentioning how expensive his suit is. he changes from his ripley costume into a 'sexy dracula'. abed spends the whole episode trying to get troy back to his side, even saying "what defines a nerd? committing to an awesome halloween costume with your best friend?" troy is eventually 'turned back' into his nerdy self (perhaps a zombie metaphor itself, keeping in tone with the theme of the episode) because jeff cares more about his suit getting dirty than surviving the herd of zombies.

a crucial part of the episode is that it is soundtracked by abba music playing from the dean's playlist. now, who would i be if i didn't investigate significant music choices connected to scenes? first up and probably the most important one: s.o.s. is used in the background of a scene where abed confronts troy about changing costumes. troy insults him and walks away. the lyrics are: 'you seemed so far away, though you were standing near. you made me feel alive, but something died, i fear. i really tried to make it up, i wish I understood. what happened to our love? it used to be so good.' next; gimme gimme gimme plays right before the scene where chang and shirley hook up. another insane choice is at the end when troy is fighting the zombies. the whole sequence has mamma mia playing in the background Faintly. then when troy eventually gets to abed and has to fight him, the music comes in much louder with the lyrics: 'here i go again, my, my, how can i resist you?', which i think fits perfectly. the ending song fernando has the lyrics 'there was something in the air that night', both referencing the thermostat changing the zombies back and the fact that it was just an incredibly weird fucking night.

troy is dressed as ellen ripley and also kind of acts as the ripley of this episode. his journey in this as being the sole survivor and the one to eventually save greendale adheres to a common science fiction model where a life-threatening force is faced against the protagonists and they fall off in degrees, resulting in one person being left to mend everything. here specifically, it seems to mirror ripley's journey in alien (1979) as it starts with a crew that eventually gets cut down leaving only her. i thought that was really cool.

more alien tidbits, but the jumping cat scene is also inspired by it. jones the cat is an imporant figure in the first alien movie. in various scenes, members of the crew will go looking for him, then get ambushed by the titular alien and subsequently killed. it is a minor homage to the movie through yet another subtle reference. the bit is also parodying jumpscares in horror movies in general, and how they are used to cheaply amplify the tension. anyways, it's quite the multilayered joke because it also really works out of context as a bizarre comedic moment.

troy and abed's scene in the basement pays homage to princess leia and han solo's scene in the empire strikes back. the conversation in the film takes place just before han is frozen alive in carbonite by darth vader. not knowing if he’ll survive, he kisses leia, only to be torn away from her by stormtroopers. she says 'i love you,' and as he descends into chamber, han replies, 'i know.' an undeniably romantic moment, maybe one of the most memorable ones ever, is applied to troy and abed who have held reign over the emotional core of the plot for the entire episode. it's pretty special that such an iconic moment is given to them, i feel like the creators of the show wouldn't just do this sparingly. it also perfectly resolves their conflict as troy makes such a vulnerable statement and abed assuring him that he already knew, validating their bond once again.

more on troy and abed, it is pretty amazing realizing the emotional implications tied to how dire the situation was. everyone in this episode was under the direct threat of Not Surviving, and still abed sacrificed himself for troy. he knew this was for real. he couldn't be sure if they were going to make it. but i think he had enough faith in troy to aid in his escape. it's very touching. further, it's incredible that troy is willing to fight all the zombies (all his friends) but when it comes time to punch abed, he refuses to do it. he's struck by the force of their friendship, mumbling 'we're friends' defeated before eventually succumbing to his bite.

troy saving the school by controlling the temperature; nicely setting up his further plot with the ac repair school.

him being the one to escape and abed saying 'be the first black man to make it to the end' subverts the common horror trope of 'black dude dies first'. a playful way of keeping up with the horror movie theme of the episode.

also ironically this episode, which features the song mamma mia by abba, sets up a plotline in season two about shirley not knowing who the father of her new baby is, which is functionally the plot of the movie mamma mia!, a musical based on abba's music. probably a coincidence but a pretty funny one.

at the end when the army arrives, they ask the dean about witnesses. when he says he is the only witness, one of the guards reaches into his jacket, suggesting that he's pulling a gun intended to kill the dean and get rid of the witness. when they notice everyone in the school is still alive, they abandon this plan and go for 'scenario b'. kind of dark but i laugh every time that scene happens.

anyways that's all i could pull from my brain crevices for now. this episode is a genuine masterpiece, it will never ever get old and will remain to be one of the most unique sitcom episodes ever created.

#community #abed nadir #nbc community #troy barnes #troy community #abed community #trobed #trobed community #troy and abed #epidemiology #community analysis #jeff winger #six seasons and a movie #shirley bennett #britta perry #annie edison #tv show analysis

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